Sittin' in the Back With You

My eyes start to flutter in the light dancing over me.  I don’t want to open my eyes; something bad will happen.  It’s safer in the darkness…

“Eurgh…” I groan croakily as I peel my eyes open in defeat to the light.  I look around uncertainly, shuffling awkwardly as I let my gaze slide around.  Same floorboards, same windows, same…wait.  Do I have floorboards?  Or that soft fluffy- carpet?  Do I have floorboards or carpet?  I try to picture my room, except my mind comes up blank.

What?

“Where am I?” I mumble to myself as I sit up, my body aching in places I didn’t think could ache.  I look down hesitantly and recoil from the sight of the dark and ugly colours spread blotchily over my pale skin.  I look away from the colours quickly, my heart hammering in my chest, and look around the room.  The curtains are lacy blue and white and don’t do much to stop the sunlight prancing in as if it has every right to wake up sleeping women.

“Do I live here?” I ask the empty room uneasily as I try to shuffle off the bed, only for the room to tilt around me ominously.  I perch on the edge of the bed, determined to keep my breathing even enough to be able to get up without sending hot pain searing through me.  “I don’t think I do.” I answer my own question, heaving myself to my feet.

Okay.  I’m upright.  That’s a good sign, right?  It means I’m not…paralysed or anything.

I just have to think about this, don’t I?  And then everything will come back!  I know it’s in my head somewhere, it’s just finding it that seems to be the problem.  I breathe slowly as I attempt to find the space in my head that I can’t seem to reach, only to end up holding my breath by accident as I try to claw into the depths of my brain.

Oh dear, the small voice in the back of my head mumbles.  Well, that’s reassuring.  Not.  I guess I’m not the sort of person to go to for reassurance.  So what sort of person am I?  I struggle to think past the giant brick wall that’s materialised between me and my memories, desperate to know what sort of person I am.  Actually, no; if I could just remember anything right now I would be incredibly grateful.  And calm.  Definitely calmer.

Right now I’m just stressed, and somehow I can’t see that leading to me remembering.

I look around the room worriedly, swallowing back the thousands of questions begging to be asked as I decide that I’m not going to remember anything if I’m just sat in here contemplating.  I take a few shaky steps towards the door, using the lightly coloured wall for support the whole way, wondering if I’ve hit my head or something.  That’s how people forget things, isn’t it?  A knock to the noggin!  I just need to un-knock it, and everything can back to how it used to be!

However that was, I grumble as I slip out into the hall and walk slap bang into someone.  My head snaps up, terrified of seeing the face of whoever’s stolen me.

“You’re up!” He exclaims in surprise.  “I thought you’d be out for longer!” Oh God, he drugged me!  He’s a psychopath!  “Me and my girlfriend found you in an alley; we brought you back and cleaned you up a bit.” Cleaned me up?  What the hell are they going to do?  Sell me at auction?!

“O-okay!” I squeak, not really knowing what I’m answering to as I try to edge past him.  “Thank you, I have to go!” I add hastily, practically stumbling over my words.

“You shouldn’t be going anywhere!” Mr Psychopath reprimands me and I swallow nervously.

“Well, I am!” I point out defiantly.  “I’m going…home!” Wherever home may be, I think edgily as I get to another door that I’m hoping leads outside.

“You were practically dead, Clover!” Mr Psychopath tells me, making my hand pause over the door handle.  My name’s Clover?  I suppose it could be worse!  “Just stay here for a few days whilst you get over it all!” He continues, a tone in his voice that I find unfamiliar.  Did I know it before?

“Okay.”

It comes out before I can really think it through, but where would I go?  I don’t know where I live, and I don’t think I even have anything with me.  Somehow, I don’t think homelessness will suit me.

“Great!” Mr Psychopath grins, almost making me gape.  He’s a psychopath!  He shouldn’t be allowed to have such a lovely smile!  “I’m Desmond, but everyone just calls me Des.” He introduces as he sticks his hand out.  What the heck does he think I’m going to do with that?  What a silly thing to do.

“Clover.” I shake my head, resisting the urge to squirm on the spot.  Mr Psycho- Des looks confused by my reply, staring at me with startled hazel eyes as if waiting for something.

“Right.” He nods slowly.  “Clover.” He repeats.  “You can stay in there.” He continues as if nothing’s happened and nothing strikes him as completely wrong about this situation.  “Mona won’t mind.” He adds as if it’s going to mean something to me.

“Thanks.” I repeat when I realise I’m expected to say something.  “I’ll go…settle.” I say uncertainly, going back into the room that I guess is mine now, not sure if I’ve just been swindled into going along with being kidnapped or not.

How am I going to do this? I wonder hopelessly as I shut the door and sit back on the bed.

I hope I’m good in a crisis.

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I know I shouldn't be starting a new story :$ but I like this one!!  So please...no slating!  Votes are appreciated though ;) hope you enjoy this latest story!

Dedicated to Wonder Woman, because I think she needs a bit of a cheer up!

Swinnie x