The Daughter

Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas

Bing Crosby's "Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas" played on the bar's jukebox. The smoky interior was dim with sparse but tacky Christmas decorations. Emily sat in a booth in the back corner, playing with her straw absentmindedly. There were few people in the bar as it was Christmas Eve. Everyone was probably getting cozy with their families before Christmas morning. Emily did not have any family as far as she knew. Her parents were both dead, long before she could remember them vividly. All the memories were fuzzy but mostly revolved around fighting and medical procedures.

...then nothing...

An odd blank slate of time. No memories, not even a sliver. Then from what she was told, she was adopted by a family in Michigan, much different from her home state of California. Aside from her early childhood, her life was normal. She excelled in school and was accepted to study medicine, which led her here, drinking after studying all semester and nearly losing her mind, but finishing successfully nonetheless. She was offered a research position in her area of study and had everything going for her.

And... another drink empty. Emily got up from the booth and made her way to the bar.

"Another gin and tonic please." She asked, pulling cash from her wallet, and glancing up at the bartender. "Oh, is Mark out for another smoke?" Mark had been replaced with a slightly shorter man with dark hair.

"No. There was an emergency and he had to leave" the new bartender said straightly. He had a mysterious, no-questions kind of attitude to him, but isn't that the case for all bartenders? She looked down as he was filling her cup with ice and noticed his left hand was amputated and replaced by a plastic hand replica. She swiftly avoided eye contact to not stare and continued with the small talk.

"Wow, on Christmas Eve? I'll have to give him a call tomorrow, I hope he's okay" She had never seen this bartender before but she also never came in during the afternoon, "Sorry, I didn't catch your name".

He slides the gin and tonic my way, sloshing some of its contents on the counter "Alex" he says curtly, turning around and walking away.

Rude... the bartender was definitely new. Emily walked over to her booth, trying not to think about the work ahead during her research tonight. The stress of trying not to ruin a corpse while examining DNA can only be pondered so many times. Emily took a few sips of her drink. He made this one particularly strong. She shuddered, she didn't think she was already tipsy, but her vision was already starting to get blurry. Reaching over for her bag, she went to grab her phone to check the time. She thought of possibly calling a cab, she didn't like being drunk alone, even at her normal bar.

She knocked her bag over, spilling its contents and her phone across the bar floor.

"Fuck..." Embarrassed by my sudden lack of coordination, I went to bend over and grab my bag. The world began to spin. My vision doubled and I began to feel confused. Unable to handle bending over to grab my bag, I fell to the ground.

I was mortified, people were going to see me making a drunken fool of myself. From the ground, I looked around the bar and was surprised to see no one around, except the bartender. He was staring at me, but he didn't look surprised I was on the floor of the bar. He stared at me with cold eyes. He walked to the front door, the music on the jukebox stopped as he switched the deadbolt to lock. He turned around and walked towards where I was sprawled on the floor.

My stomach dropped, I was unable to speak and I wanted to scream for help. The sudden realization that there wasn't an emergency Mark needed to attend dawned on me. Who knew what he did to Mark? Who knew what he intended to do to me?

"They thought they could hide you" his voice was echoing in my head, distorted through my drugged haze. "You are too important to us that we would just let them hide you away."

He bent down over me and moved the hair that was covering my eyes.

"It is uncanny though, you look just like her."

Everything went dark... whatever was in that drink did its work.

But then the visions came, but this time more vivid as if they were happening in real time. The visions came to me as nightmares before this. I'm always in a bright, all-white room in a simple hospital gown. Men stand around me in surgical masks and sterile garb, speaking to each other and writing things down. I can't make out what they're saying. I can't speak or move. They all leave the room and a bright flash of light blinds me.

I am on the ground and it's wet. A stark change from the sterile room of my vision. I'm cold and shivering and I can smell dirt and rain. I slowly opened my eyes, my head pounding, the drugs I was given still lingering. I am surrounded by forest, but the trees were not like those from Michigan. They were tall, towering pines from somewhere like the Pacific Northwest. A mix of rain and snow fell from the tree cover, freezing me to my core.

I looked down to see that I was wearing the hospital gown from my vision. I had no shoes or socks on and my bag was nowhere to be seen. Groggy and weak I managed to shakily get up. I felt like a newborn deer taking its first steps. This wasn't Michigan and it was no longer evening. It looked like the sun was beginning to set through the trees.

"...Hello?" I shouted into the forest. My voice was dry and hoarse. "Hello?!"

There was no answer, only the silence of the forest. But then, in the distance, the sound of tires moving quickly on the wet pavement.

With weak legs and frozen feet, I stumbled through the forest to the sound of the road. I clambered up a small hill, slipping on the cold, muddy forest floor, tearing a hole in the gown I was wearing. At the top of the hill, I could make out pavement a few feet ahead of me. A car sped past. It was going fast enough to be a highway or some countryside road.

I scrambled to the side of the road, my gown soaked in mud and sleet. I collapsed, having used the last of the energy I had left in me to make it to the roadside. My muscles were weak and screaming as if I had run for miles.

There was a road sign just visible in the distance through the foggy, wet weather, WELCOME TO OREGON...