Amnesia is hard to battle, when the most recent memories you have of yourself are of living on cold cemented floors, and being on the run, constantly.
Amnesia is hard to overcome when you find yourself with a husband and a family you have no memori...
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There's a hammering pain in her skull—— one which only intensifies with each moment that passes. Her eyes can make out shades and strange shapes in darkened colours; and her ears pick up on the distant chattering of voices that blend together into a cacophony.
It is an unpleasant soprano that merely worsens her headache, and she cannot help but let out a groan. And she presumes it to be the unpleasant sound that leaves her lips to be the reason behind the cacophony trickling to a mere hum.
She blinks her eyes wide open, before squeezing them shut tightly, as bright white lights from overhead assaults her vision. She winces quietly, attempting to tighten her fists, only to find herself unable to move her fingers.
She attempts to move her neck slowly, with ears trained to pick up on any strange sounds or voices that could pose a potential threat. As she twists her neck slowly, the sudden flash of the scene which plays in front of her eyes, makes her whimper.
Grabbing the back of her neck, he plunges the knife into her shoulder, chuckling gleefully as she lets out a blood curdling scream.
There's the sound of beeping machinery which only grows louder as pain shoots across her skull and her heart beats frantically in her chest.
The intervals between each pump grows shorter and shorter—— her chest constricts and she feels restless. Hands press down on her arms, shoulders and legs, and she wants to scream at them to let her go.
Her voice, on the contrary, refuses to cooperate with her mind and instead she's left feeling helpless and trapped—— until a sharp prick on her neck near the place she'd been stabbed, makes her stiffen.
It is merely a few seconds later, that she loses comsciousness
-^-♡-^-
The first thing her mind registers is the quiet hum of machinery nearby—— one which makes her jittery. Her fingers itch to move; as does she—— wanting desperately to move from the bed which she lies upon.
She swallows, registering the dryness of her throat. She opens her eyes slowly, registering the dim lights and the singular cat shaped lamplight which sits on the desk opposite her bed and near a couch.
The door to the bedroom swings open, and she watches as a man in a white lab coat, with a ponytail enters, followed by a much shorter and petite woman who looks annoyed.
"You're awake, babe," the short-haired and tall man grins.
She merely blinks in reply.
"Would you like some water?" The woman in the lab coat's face morphs into a friendly one with a warm smile, which seems most genuine.
