The Last Life

Chapter Two

When she woke up and tried to open her eyes, nothing happened. They seemed to be glued shut. She knew she was alone, for there were no muffled sounds of someone breathing, nothing moving around even in the distance. Surely, she should be hearing something?

Maybe her ears, along with her eyes, were refusing to work. Perhaps she should try seeing what else she couldn't do. Tentatively, she tried to move her fingers, first one hand, and then the other. The right hand seemed to tremble, and finally, one finger stirred a little. Disappointed, she gave up trying and concentrated on her other senses.

She sniffed. At first, she couldn't smell anything and almost added another lost sense to the growing pile of hopelessness. But she could smell something, something so slight she almost missed it. She sniffed again. Yes. The faint unmistakable smell of clean linen, giving her the idea she could be in a hospital.

Gradually she became aware that her eyes were trying to open, but nothing she did made them open any faster. Her head moved slightly and she heard the sound of her hair against the pillow.

So, she wasn't deaf after all and appeared to be lying on a bed, possibly in a hospital. She wondered what could have happened to her.

Her eyes were fully open now and she searched frantically for clues. In the darkness, there were vague shapes but nothing she could recognise. She tried to shout, but no sound came out of her mouth. She summoned up the strength to move her head again, but the effort made her giddy so she gave up.

She desperately needed a drink of water, for her mouth tasted like dirty cotton wool. Most of her senses seemed to be working after all, but this knowledge was eclipsed by the hopelessness of being alone in the dark, unable to attract any help. She had no idea what could have happened to her.

Realising she had no idea who she was either, came as a bit of a shock and tears silently slid down the sides of her face and soaked into her hair.

She cried silently for a while, not that she could do otherwise. Her body was refusing to move, even in emotional desperation. Why couldn't she remember anything? She wondered what kind of life she had before this, would it even be worth remembering?

Obviously, something quite serious had happened to her. People didn't end up in hospital minus a memory for no reason, frustrated to the point of fury with her brain for refusing to spill any beans at all. Not one word, or a scene, something she could recognise.

Right then she would have welcomed a riddle, anything to prove her brain could work, and would again.

A voice spoke to her in the darkness, although she was sure no one was there. It wanted to help her to remember what happened last time, that it could be important. What did it mean by 'last time'?

Assuming her eyes were still open, hard to tell in the darkness, she looked around again, searching for something, anything, to prove this wasn't going to be a permanent state. She reasoned it couldn't be, if she were dead she wouldn't care if she could move or not.

This thought made her feel a little better and she tried to lift her head again. It might as well have been glued to the pillow, for she couldn't make it move at all.

She thought she heard a noise a long way off and wondered what could it be. A door slammed, or something dropped?

She tried to imagine where the door might be, for there had to be one somewhere. Suddenly, what could have been a memory spilled into her mind. She saw a small child, feeling her way around a dark room, sliding her hands over the walls. The child seemed calm, but even as she watched, the moving hands became more urgent as the child failed to find what she sought.