Mariposa

chapter 6🦋🦋🦋🦋🦋🦋

Mariposa

WARNING: EXPLICIT OUTFIT PHOTO.

I hear movement and look over, seeing Chris sit up. "Baby, why are you crying?" I'm crying? I move my hand to my face and feel the tears falling. "It isn't fair." I can feel my face scrunching up to match my anger. He tilts his head, "I know love, but we'll get your memories back, and then everything will be okay. I promise, baby. I love you."

I look at him, annoyance bubbling up inside me, "But what if it's not!? What if my memories never come back? What, then? We both know you're gonna get tired of me! You're already mad, cuz I can remember Sophie but not you!" I glare at him. My teeth clenched.

"You remember her name?" He looks at me in surprise. Oh. I forgot he didn't know I remembered something again. "Yeah. Sophie. But I called her Lemmy for some reason." I roll my eyes, "that's not the point right now." He stares at me, seemingly angry again. "How the hell do you remember so much about her!?" I scoff, "SEE!? YOU'RE MAD JUST CUZ I REMEMBER HER! ITS NOT MY FAULT! I CAN'T CONTROL WHAT I REMEMBER!" His face starts getting red, "IT IS YOUR FAULT! YOU WOULDN'T HAVE BEEN TAKEN IF YOU HADN'T BEEN WALKING AROUND LIKE A SLUT!"

I stare at him in a mixture of shock and hurt. "A slut?" His eyes widen as he realizes what he said, but then they turn angry again. "Well, what would you call it? Your skirt was so short, I could see your underwear, your shirt was practically a bra." Was it my fault? No. I shouldn't have to be afraid of what I wear. But If I had worn something less exposing, maybe I would still remember who I am.. did I do this to myself?

I watch him swiftly walk out, flinching as the door slams, echoing through the empty room, and snapping me out of my spiraling thoughts. Wow. It's only been a week and we already had our first fight -or at least the first one I can remember- and I don't even remember the so-called 'slutty' outfit that caused the fight. Now I'm all alone, in this cold, lonely hospital room. I look at the round, sky-blue, analog clock. The clock reads 4:29. I know it's afternoon cuz Chris already ate. I haven't felt like eating today.

I glance over, noticing Chris left his phone behind. It's an iPhone 16, with a black case, and a rose being held by a skeleton hand on the back. I can't help but be tempted to snoop. Maybe it has something that can jog my memory, Something I don't remember, something that could help me understand. So I stand, walking over to the phone, hoping it might have some answers. I pick it up, pressing the on button. The screen pops up, revealing the lock screen.

I can see a notification saying that Spotify is open. 'Strawberry Shortcake' by Melanie Martinez is playing. The background is a picture of me, wearing a skimpy outfit. Is this the outfit he spoke of? I'm not looking at the camera, in fact, it seems like I don't even notice someone is photographing me. I'm smiling at a beautiful, tall girl.

She seems to be the girl from my memories. She's wearing the same outfit with inverted colors, her belly button piercing exposed. has a necklace that seems to be on a white string. The necklace is tucked into her shirt, not allowing me to see the charm. I'm wearing a necklace with a black string. It's about as thick as a small hoodie string. There's a jagged, amethyst crystal hanging from it. It looks like the necklace Chris wears.