Start It All Over Again

Coming Out of the Dark

Kara's Point of View

Where am I? I thought. A sea of black encircled me. Sharp shoots of red flashed, lighting up the darkness for just milliseconds at a time. Then, I started running towards it. I was engulfed by the bright, white light. I felt warm and peaceful and safe. Everything started to fade as all my pain melted-

SMACK! Pain shot across my cheek. I receded out of the comfort of the light. My eyes shot open and I sat up way too quickly. I felt something oozing down my face. It was  warm and sticky, and in the dark I could just make out that it was also red. Blood.

I panicked a little before noticing the young man beside me. Had he done this to me? Had he punched me!?

"Did you just hit me?" I asked the stranger huddled over me, disgustedly.

"Well, yeah, but- wait I know what you're think-" I slapped him back. "Who are you!?" I searched my brain for people I knew. I couldn't find him in any memories. In fact, I couldn't find any memories at all. I thought harder and harder, but all it did was give me a bigger headache. I couldn't remember anything. Who was I?

"Who am I!?" I screamed, demanding the answer. Racking my brain ten times over, I failed to come up with my identity.

The guy looked at me like he was so horrified he was going to be sick, and in that moment I was sure he'd had something to do with this. "I... I don't know. I don't know! You we're just standing at that door and I hit your head with it really hard!" He stammered.

"ON PURPOSE!?" I shouted.

"No, no, you were just there while I was coming out! It was an accident! I'm so, so sorry!" He looked around for a solution which obviously wasn't just sitting there, much to his dismay. He finally thought of it.

"Come on, I'll take you home with me." He said this slowly, but kindly. But I was highly wary of this situation. He could be one of those forty year old, balding men who lock girls in intricate torture chambers in their basements in disguise. I looked up at him and touched his face. His skin was smooth. I felt his hair and kind of moved it around. He looked at me like I had three heads. For all I knew,  I did. I decided he wasn't wearing a wig. 

So, he wasn't a balding, forty year old man. Doesn't mean he still can't be a serial killer and/or rapist, in utter seriousness.

"No, I don't know who you are! You could be a murderer!"

"Well I almost was tonight! Thank God you're alive. Trust me. Please, just trust me. I'm not." He looked at me pleadingly. The look in his eyes was sincere, from what I could tell. And, what other option did I have?

"You can't just sleep out on the streets. You could get mugged or beaten or even killed. No, I'm not letting you just lie here while you bleed to death. Jesus Christ, you've probably already lost a good amount of blood! Please, just come on. I can't let you die. You can't die." 

He was right. I tried to stand up, but found much to my horror that I simply couldn't. "I can't move." I stared blankly at him, feeling nauseous and weak.

"Holy fuck. Erm... I- I could carry you?" He said, more like a question. I nodded slowly. He picked me up gently, wedding style. After a little while of walking, I laid my head on his chest, feeling overly tired. He now felt safe; secure. I didn't even know his name, yet he was strapping me into the front seat of his car. Every movement was blurry and hazed in a commotion. My heart beat so fast.

I blacked out as soon as I hit the seat. I awoke to a tapping on my shoulder. The boy stood over me, unhooking my seat belt. I tried to move. I was still too weak. I looked up at him. He gave me a sympathetic smile, and picked me up again.

"My name's Louis... Louis Tomlinson. Sorry, I should've said that earlier. What's your n-" He stopped, sighing deeply.

"I really wish I could tell you..." I said, sadly. Did it start with... An A, maybe? Anne? Ariana? No, these don't ring a bell. Perhaps an I? Isabelle? Ingrid? Still not right.  He fumbled for his keys, but realized he couldn't grab them without putting me down. And from the looks of it, he didn't want to do that, and he had a damn good reason not to. He kicked lightly at the door, until someone came to unlock it.

A teenage boy a little  younger than Louis with dark, curly hair opened the door. He took one look and I and laughed. "Well, this is an interesting way to take a girl home with you, isn't it?"

Even in my highly woozy state, I blushed fifty shades of red.

"Well, Harold, I actually think you're quite wrong on this one. You see, it's more of an interesting way to almost kill someone by accident and give them a place to stay until they remember who the fuck they are." 

The curly haired boy immediately stopped laughing and moved out of the doorway.

Chapter 2 mah lovelies! I'll update again soon, but until then-

Much love forever and always,

~Kara Rose xx n_n