The Girl With Lost Memories - Parts 1 & 2 (An OUAT Fanfiction)

𝒞𝒽𝒶𝓅𝓉𝑒𝓇 38: 𝒯𝒶𝒸𝑜𝓈

If Storybrooke is the home of a cult, who's the leader? Is it Regina? Gold?

Oh, my God! What if it's Mary Margaret? I never would've guessed.

Or it's Granny. That'd be a funny twist.

Holy shit! What if they think it's me? That's why everyone's so obsessed with me remembering and believing. They want me to lead their cult.

Okay, I'm overreacting. I'm sure Storybrooke isn't a cult...But what if it is?

Alright, Bella, calm down. It's not a cult. Though, I can't deny the people here act like they're all part of some secret society. There aren't many ordinary people around except Neal, Belle, Ruby, and Regina. They've also talked to me about magic and fairytales, but they're not as obsessive as the others. I suppose Granny is normal, too, except for her comment about owning a crossbow. Why the hell does she have a crossbow? Is she training to be an Avenger and become Hawkeye's mentee? Imagining Granny fighting alongside them is downright hil-ar-i-ous.

After breakfast, Henry and I head to the docks and stroll along the boardwalk. As we saunter, I can't shake off my paranoia about the flying monkeys. I keep glancing at the sky, flinching each time a seagull swoops by.

Henry notices my unease and says, "Are you okay, Bella? You seem nervous."

"Can't stop thinking about the flying monkeys," I reply, trying to shrug it off. "I know it sounds silly—I can't believe I'm saying this—but what if they come back and try to attack me again?"

"They won't," he assures me. "The heroes will make sure of that. Besides, you have nothing to worry about. You're safe in Storybrooke." His grin doesn't offer much comfort when considering the presence of Regina, Gold, and flying monkeys. Not to mention his remarks about daggers.

I force a smile and nod, struggling to push away my fears. Despite Henry's reassurances, something wicked looms on the horizon.

We continue walking, the sound of water lapping against the rocks providing calming background noise.

"Sorry for making you walk here," I say.

"It's okay. I don't mind."

"I should be able to pick up my car this week from the mechanic's." Visiting a mechanic has been long overdue. It's an old car, but I didn't want to risk getting caught by bringing it in for repairs. I've had it for a while and never got it inspected, so maybe Emma and David sending my car in is a good thing because it needs a lot of work. Though, I'm worried the mechanic will somehow find out what I've done and report me to Emma. The last thing I need is her arresting me again.

Henry quips, "Your stolen car?"

"I didn't steal it."

He pulls out a card from his pocket. "Then why did I find this ID in the glove compartment?"

"An old passenger must've left it there."

"Uh-huh."

I snatch it from his hand. "When did you take this?"

"When we drove to Storybrooke. You were too focused on the road to notice."

"I was trying to avoid the crazy kid next to me."

I couldn't believe I'd done it. I was only fourteen years old, and I stole a car. It was one of those things I never thought I was capable of. But that night, the anger and frustration toward Curt and Diane pushed me over the edge. They grounded me for what felt like the hundredth time, and I couldn't take it anymore. So I took matters into my own hands and went for a joyride. Over the years, I observed my foster parents driving their cars, and I figured I had a good enough understanding of how to operate one myself.