Another World

Night Fourteen ~ Fiction ~ Don't you remember?

He looked at me with such a curious expression. His mind reeling as he tried to comprehend what was standing in front of him. His fingertips grazed my skin. Eyes wide with wonder. A step back, uncertain. I stepped forward mimicking him. It's been so long since I've seen a man let alone another human. My how strange he looks. But I couldn't help but notice his beauty. The twinkle in his eyes, the way his hair was swept back. I could just get lost in his gaze. 

"Who are you," his eyes sweeping over me. "Who are you," I mimicked. He seemed a tad thrown off. A step forward, inches from me. Something glinted in his eyes. Recollection maybe? "Is this real," he said slowly. It was almost as though he was questioning his sanity. Why was he so shocked? I was the one who's been isolated from society for so long. Locked in this dreary basement. I would've died long ago had it not been for the abundance of food & water. Any memories of the life I had before had fled my mind. Only glimpses were left. A child, a husband. A small house we called ours. No memory of how they looked, except... Except for the child's electrifying blue eyes. 

I looked to this man. He should not be so shocked or astounded. Or should he? No, I have no recollection of him. He stepped closer, our bodies nearly touching. I was not afraid. For the life of me couldn't figure out why. Perhaps it's due to the familiarity of his voice, of him as a whole. There was something about him I had once known. Tears welled in his eyes. "It can't be," he whispered. Despite the tears, he looked as though he was about to explode from happiness.

He clutched me tightly. One moment I was free, the next I was entwined in his arms. "Elizabeth, it's really you!" Elizabeth? I pulled away. I shook my head.  "Who are you?" Those simple words devastated him. The man fell to his knees. Hands clutching his head. "It's Matthew," he said almost pleading. "Matthew," I repeated. That name was so familiar. He stood. "Elizabeth, don't you remember me? Our life? Our child? Anything," he pleaded. Child? Could he be? No, I should know. But could this be my husband? A name came to mind. "Alison," I trailed off. His eyes widened with hope. "Yes, honey! Yes! Alison is our baby girl! Well, not so baby anymore. She's fifteen now..." Fifteen? How long have I been here? Any recollection of Alison is when she was five or younger.