Treacherous

Chapter Thirty-Seven

*~*~* Amie's POV *~*~*

Nothing.

That's all I can remember.

Absolutely nothing.

The feeling is calming, but alarming at the same time.

I can remember how to think and speak, and I know my own name.

Other than that I know zilch.

My toes squinch up as they come into contact with cold leather. I start to move around and listen, trying to seek out any tiny detail that can help me recall past events.

When my hands are brought up to my face, tracing over my features, my breath picks up when I pass over my eyes. It's now that I find out that nothing is covering my eyes like I had suspected earlier. I gulp and continue running my hands over my face. I don't even know what I look like.

I can't be too good looking; I'm too skinny and I don't hear anyone else here. No male companion or any friends to say in the least. What I do hear, though, is the television. Some show I don't know the name of is playing out and one character says a joke that I get. I start laughing, but return to my pondering state as I try to figure out who in the world I am.

I feel light and... happy, which I find incredibly strange. Shouldn't I be panicking more?

I shrug mentally and continue trying to think, but my only memories consist of the few I've just made.

A phone goes off and I jump, startled by the sudden sound. Some voice from above reads out the number, saying the name 'Eleanor' after it, and asking me if I'd like to answer it.

The name sounds strangely familiar, so I tell the voice to answer it. A newer, sweeter voice is replaced by the other, but it still comes from all around me.

"Amie?" Eleanor, I'm guessing, asks.

"Yes. This is Amie," I state, not sure how to react to her. "How do you know my name?" I figure that it won't hurt to ask. She'll tell me if it's important, and maybe she knows something that I don't. It's very probable that she does.

She waits a few seconds before warily saying, "Amie, I'm your friend, Eleanor. Did you forget?"

"It seems to be that way." This whole time I've had a smile on my face. I feel wonderful. "Do I do this often?"

"Yeah. Look, Amie. I'll be over there in about 10 minutes. Just stay on the phone with me until I get there, okay?" I start to say 'yes', but something stops me. I'm capable of taking care of myself for 10 measly minutes. My smile falters and turns into a frown. I'm not a cripple.

I tell the more monotone voice to hang up and Eleanor's protests sound around the room. They are cut off short as she tries to scream my name. I smile at my triumph, but it soon leaves as the house goes silent.

It feels empty. Deserted. Lonely.

I last the 10 minutes perfectly fine. All I do is sit and wonder about who I am, and where I am, and what I'm doing. I don't have a very good explanation for any of those. There are simpler answers that I can use, but I want to go deeper.

I want to find myself again, but a teeny tiny, microscopic sliver in my brain is saying that I don't want to remember.

I just want to know why. Why don't I want to?

Eleanor pounds on the door as few minutes later and I navigate to the door with ease, not bumping into many things on the way. It looks like my brain remembered something.

I open the door after figuring out how to unlock it and someone rams into me, wrapping me into a hug and causing me to fall backwards. Déjà vu hits me at full blast, but I don't recollect the original memory. I groan in pain, my bones aching from the impact.