The Hidden Box

Mr. Goody-Two-Shoes?

Although my instinct was to just pick up the largest object and throw it at him, mostly due to the adrenaline high in my body due to the fight-or-flight mode my body had turned on, I stared at him. Maybe subconsciously I was waiting for him to show any signs of aggressiveness or probably I was hoping that he would be more friend than foe.

During my body's current confusion as to what to do, my mind was trying to place him into one of it's records, to check if his face matched with any familiar files stored deep deep inside. Finally I placed him to be the third face I'd pictured. The leather jacket, strangely endearing bad boy.

Just to be safe- as I could not afford any misconceptions, I staggered backward, my hands behind me trying to find something heavy and solid once I bumped into the dresser. Feeling a vase behind me, I grabbed it. Not bothering to dump the flowers out I hurled it at him. He manged to side-step the vase and slowly walked toward me with his hands raised. "I'm not gonna hurt you", he said. I narrowed my eyes. "Sweetheart", he spoke again,"I'm here for you". Quickly realizing what he just said could have meant, he tried to re-phrase his words. "I am not here to harm you, but to protect you. I never would want anything bad to happen to you, please believe me."

I was debating inside whether to let him know that I couldn't remember or just pretend to understand what he was saying, like it all made sense to me. But I guess I had passed the stage of pretending to know what was going on. I would just have to handle this situation in a basic way.

"Who are you and what do you want?" I asked. For a second a hurt expression flashed across his face, but as quickly as the thought occurred did it change. He laughed like he had just found something really funny and was in on the joke. "You got me Sar! I know it April Fool's Day and this is what you have come up with, but seriously? Poofy eyes? You know how much I hate it when you stay up late watching TV at night". His expression turned softer at the last sentence. Like he was worried about me.

His talk just confused me further, if he wasn't the person to write on the wall, who was? " I am asking you one last time. WHO ARE YOU?", I almost yelled trying my best to be fierce and brave and stern.

"I am Matt". He looked at me, almost pleading. "I love you. We love each other", his tone was heart breaking,"What has happened to you Sarah? Did you get another flashback?" He looked so concerned at that moment, I didn't know how to react. Before I could do anything, Matt came close to me and held my hand, like it was the most natural thing in the world and tenderly squeezed it. His face was probably only a couple inches far from mine.

He seemed genuine. Some part of my brain was a hundred percent sure that he meant each word he said. The smartest thing to do for now was believe him, though I did not enjoy him coming so close to me and holding my hands.

"I don't remember anything", I whined. "I don't remember you", at this point my tears started falling. A saline drop touched my lips and soon enough I could taste it. "I woke up this morning to the place like this and couldn't even recall my own name! I just could barely picture some faces in my mind. One was you I think, I assumed you were responsible for this mess."

Matt's worried eyes softened as he cupped my face in his palms...almost. Suddenly he held my shoulders and distanced me from him, almost tripping me as he pushed me back, probably sensing the possible uneasiness I would feel. After a quick glance around the room, he lit up and started speaking, to distract me from the swift change in positioning. "How about I clean this place up while you go take a bath? Then we can talk about this further", sensing my hesitance he added,"Just breathe. Everything will be fine".

He gave me a reassuring pat on the shoulder and set off to start picking up things fallen on the floor. I quietly picked up some jeans and a white t-shirt, making my way toward the shower while being careful to not trip on anything.

Once in the shower, I stared in the mirror for a while. I focused on my chest rising and falling as I breathed. It was funny looking at your own reflection like it didn't belong to you, as if you are seeing the person staring back at you for the first time. I looked at how I could see everything around me in the mirror when my eyes fell on a note. My heart started racing as I picked it up. 'You won't escape because you can't hide from me now'. It was a yellow sticky note.

Suddenly I heard a knock on the door which made me literally jump back. My heart was in my mouth. "Sarah?", it sounded like Matt. "You forgot to take your towel. Should I leave it on the door handle?" "No. I'm coming", I replied. I opened the door slightly, holding the back scrubber in my hand. Matt was standing there with the towel, sensing no danger I took it and quickly locked the door.

Had I not seen the note before? Was it possible that it was kept right now, in the past few minutes? "Matt!", I yelled. "I'm right here Sar! Is everything Okay?" Matt almost instantly replied. He was here with me. He sounded genuine. I was safe, I guessed. "Nothing", I replied after sensing he must have been waiting for a reply. Some part of me told me that he wouldn't have hesitated to break through the door if he sensed that I was in danger.

I hurried back into the shower and quickly stripped of my clothes. Some warm water may help me to calm down. Everything that was happening around me made me suspicious. This was definitely not how I wanted to live.

When I opened the door the house was spotless. I was shocked. Seeing Matt in the kitchen I walked toward him. He was hovering over a stove. "How did you clean so fast?" I asked him curiously. Hearing me, Matt grinned, "You took a really long shower Sar. Apparently it gave me enough time".

"Tell me about myself Matt", I asked.

"Well, you are beautiful and hot and sexy...." he started.

His words made me giggle and blush. "I'm serious", I insisted, keeping my eyes down.

"I am serious!"

"Matt!", I glared at him.

"Okay, okay. You are 23 years old. We've been together for a little more than a year and a half..... Do you want some hot coffee?" he asked as he kept a mug of piping hot cappuccino on the counter in front of me.

I could tell that he was unsure of what to tell me, perhaps worried about how I would take his words. I glanced at the wall where the bloody handwriting was as I slowly sipped the warm joy from my cup. The way it seemed, Matt had apparently tried to scrub the stains away.

"I think we should visit a doctor, maybe you could get some answers about what happened to you", Matt abruptly said.

"Why can't you just tell me!", I groaned.

"I've heard its much more satisfying to learn about yourself on your own".

"Stop it! Just stop okay? Stop trying to be nice and stop trying to carefully place your words in front of me. I deserve answers! You have no idea of the trauma that comes with memory loss!" I yelled, standing up from my seat and looking straight into his eyes.

"But a doctor can help you in figuring things out...", Matt lamely tried to convince me. He seemed so helpless when talking.

"I want to know who wrote on the wall Matt! And you know who did it! I found another note in the bathroom as well!" I wasn't sure if Matt knew, but if he was as close to me as he was behaving, he would have known.