more ↠ lrh

two

We were driving. I was in the driver's seat, both hands clutching the wheel tightly as the speedometer slowly rose higher and higher.

"You need to slow down, Arabella, slow down!" Someone yelled, their voice echoing through my head.

I ignored them, pressing the pedal into the floor. I threw my head back against the seat, squeezing my eyes shut.

"Bell, slow down!"

Suddenly, we were driving over the edge of a bridge, my hands moving from the wheel and into the air as the car flew through the air.

"Arabella."

I watched as the car spun and flipped against the ground, screams and crunching glass filling the air around us.

"I'm sorry." I whispered as my body thrashed back and forward.

"I'm sorry," I repeated over and over. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry."

"Arabella."

My eyes flew open, my chest heaving with fear. I thrashed around the bed, pushing away the hands that were on me.

"Bell, calm down." Someone laid hands on me as I breathed heavily, squeezing my eyes shut.

Their hands ran smoothly up and down my arms and my hair, calming me as my heart pounded against my chest.

"Calm down, baby," his voice was gentle and soft. "You're safe here."

My eyes shot open at the sound of his voice, immediately prying his fingers from me. I looked up at the blue eyed boy everyone called Luke, tears filling them as the stranger stared at me.

"Arabella, it's me."

I shook my head. "I don't know you, I'm sorry."

He sighed heavily, falling in the chair beside my bed, running his hands through his hair. All the times I've seen him, he was moving his hands in his hair anxiously.

"I can't believe this is happening," he breathed, his voice thick with what I could only assume to be tears. "Fuck, I can't believe this-"

"How do you know me?" I asked, pushing myself in the corner of the bed to avoid touching the stranger.

"You're mine, I'm yours," he chuckled, crying softly beside me. "You're my-"

"Luke!" my father opened the door, yelling at the boy in the chair. "We told you to go home."

He quickly stood up, glancing towards me. "I'm sorry, I need to be here. I want to be here with her-"

"She doesn't want you here."

He turned to me and raised his eyebrows in question. I quickly looked away, needed to put as much space between the stranger and I. He knew me but I sure as hell didn't know him.

"We need to get her dressed so she can come home." My mom said, a bag of clothes in her hand.

"With you?" Luke scoffed, setting his hands on his hips.

"Her home, yes."

"Her home is with me," Luke said to them. "She hasn't even seen you in eight years."

"We're taking her home until she gets better."

"Her home is our apartment." Luke immediately said.

"We think it's better for her to go home with someone that she knows, someone that she remembers." My mom said as Luke turned to me.

I just looked away, nodding to my mother's words. There wasn't any way I was going home with a stranger. I don't care what he said, I didn't know him.

He just sighed, leaning over as if he were to kiss me but I just flinched, turning my head. Luke pulled back, sadness clearly covering his features. "Sorry."

I didn't meet his eyes, I was too scared of what they might hold.

"I'll see you later, Bell."

"No, you won't." My mom said to him.

I just watched as he sent dirty looks to my parents before leaving the room. I frowned as I got dressed, the clothes stale and rough, too small for my large figure. They haven't been worn in a while.

"Whose clothes are these?" I asked, pulling at the tight clothing.

"They're yours, honey," my mom said, setting a hand on my shoulder. "You haven't worn them in a while."

I just nodded and stood up, ignoring the spinning in my head. The doctor smile softly at me, handing me a bag. "This is what you had on you when you came in. Let us know if you start feeling any pain or start to remember anything, we'll see you in a few weeks."

I nodded again, taking the bag from him. I followed my parents from the hospital and to the car. I peaked through the bag, grabbing my wallet and opening it.

I had twenty-five dollars in cash, a few gift cards, and one picture. It was a polaroid of the blue eyed boy and me. My mouth was open as I reached out to the camera, Luke smiling like an idiot as he snapped the picture. 

I frowned at the picture, upset that I couldn't remember it being taken. 

There was a necklace in the bag, covered in dried blood. I twisted the diamond in my hand, wondering where I got it from. I cringed at the sight, reaching for the last thing in the bag. My phone. I clicked the home button but it did nothing, it was dead. There was one long crack along the screen, which must have happened in the accident.

"What kind of accident was I in?" I asked them.

My mom looked hesitantly to my father before meeting my eyes in the rearview mirror. "It was a car accident, you were thrown from the car but you landed in the grass. A drunk driver hit you."

"Was I driving?"

My mom didn't answer, just pulled into the house and got out. I furrowed my eyebrows and went inside, looking around at the familiar space.

The first thing I did was take a shower, watching the pink water flow down the drain. Every time I tried to recall the accident, or Luke, or anything before college, my head would start to pound and I had to squeeze my eyes shut to make the pain go away. 

I just sighed and got out, my old bedroom holding memories I could easily recall. The pictures of me and my high school best friends, clothes that were too small, decoration that easily portrayed a child.

I hadn't been here in years. Whether or not I could remember it, it was easily seen on the walls.

Maybe this wasn't home.