Never Take the Brown Bomber Jacket

Secret Weapon

            A knock at the door had interrupted me from doing my homework.  Sighing dramatically, I rose from my seat to answer the door since I was home alone so no one else would.

            “If you’re looking for Cole or Cathy, they—” I began to say as I yanked the door open.  I stopped short when I saw the two men standing on the doorstep.  Something about their faces poked at something in my memory, but I couldn’t put my finger on it.  “Who are you?” I asked.

            “Hello, Holly,” the one with the bright green eyes said in a British accent, a polite smile on his face.  “May we come in?”

            I raised my eyebrows.  “Um, I have no clue how you know my name, since I’ve never met either of you before, so no, you can’t come in.”  I tried to slam the door shut, but the younger man with the glasses stuck his foot in the doorway.

            “No can do, dude,” he said, his voice reminding me of America from Hetalia.  He kicked the door back open, forcing me to step back, and the both of them entered my house.

            Raising my arms, I continued walking backwards slowly.  “Get out of my house, now.”

            “Sorry, love,” the British one said, reaching into his jacket.  “No can do.”  He pulled out a vial of strange looking purple liquid.

            “What’s that?” I asked.

            “Don’t sweat, dude,” the younger man said, waving a hand at me.  “It’s just a potion to erase your memory so that no one will come and hunt you down.”

            My eyes widened.  “What?  You two are crazy!”  I spun on my heel and ran for the back entrance.  “I’m calling the police!” I yelled as I ran, taking out my iPhone.  However, I was quickly tackled from behind and as whoever my attacker was and I fell, my phone flew out of my hands.  I landed on the hardwood floor in the piano room with a thud, the air whooshing out of my lungs.  I tried to get back up but my attacker spun me onto my back and straddled me.  It was the British man with the green eyes.

            “America, pin her arms down!” he shouted.  I realized then that I totally could’ve shoved him off of me, as he was preoccupied with taking the stopper out of the vial, but for some reason, I didn’t.  I also happened to realize that he called the dude who looked like America from Hetalia America...

            I gasped and stared at the British man, finally making the connection.  “You’re—”

            He smiled sadly and nodded.  “That’s part of the reason why you have to take this potion, Holly.”

            I just stared at him with my mouth hanging open.  He took the advantage and dumped the contents of the vial into my mouth.  I swallowed on instinct, and my vision immediately became blurry.  Someone moved out of the corner of my eye, and I tried to make them out.

            “Mom?” I asked groggily before losing consciousness.

            “Holly,” an impatient voice said.  “Get up.”

            I groaned and rolled over.  “Go away, Cathy,” I mumbled.  Then it clicked.  I sat bolt upright, my eyes wide as I took in my surroundings.  I was on a mattress in what looked like a prison cell, and Cathy was standing in front of me.  “Cathy?”