Zero

zero chapter 1

I remember falling.

But nothing before. And nothing after.

I don't remember who I am, or where I am, or what I'm doing here. I feel lost.

I'm vaguely aware of a sharp stabbing pain in my right shoulder and a throbbing in the back of my head.... One side of my body feels like it's burning despite the freezing water that causes my clothes to cling to my body.

But I'm also vaguely aware of a presence hovering over me. My instincts tell me to keep my eyes closed, don't move, play dead, at the very worst shove my fist into their chin and make a run for it, but I don't know why.

Something cold strikes my heels and I flinch reflexively only to realize that it was only the lapping of the water on the sand, but I've already given myself away. Hands that had been laced together on my chest, trying to pump life back into me I realize, move to my shoulders, gently trying to shake me back to consciousness. I try to take a deep breath only to find myself choking. I cough and sputter as a lungful of water erupts from my mouth. Warm, salty water that burns in my throat. My eyes flash open to find the world shrouded in black, inky splotches left over from unconsciousness.

The world is chaotic, still trying to sort itself out, the sky's blues and grays bleeding together as they try to find their places. The sounds of the ocean and the rain and the wind clash together creating endless noise that refuses to calm. I just want all the chaos to stop.

And then out of nothing, there's a face. A pale face turned rosy from the cold. A face with freckles printed across her nose and deep, deep brown eyes framed with black eyelashes. Eyes that search my face, full of worry.

She suddenly looks up, her hair the color of black coffee blowing wildly in the wind and yells something that's muffled by the water in my ears. A seagull soars over her, high above us in the waves of cloud and sky, navigating it's way through the storm. I expect it to call out, make a sound but it's so far away I know I won't catch it. The girl looks back at me and the relief is clear on her face, though her dark eyebrows are still knitted together.

“Are you going to be alright?” She asks me.

But I don't know what the answer is, I don't know the answer to anything anymore.

She lugs me up the beach with the help of an eight or nine year old boy and into a lighthouse where she lays me on a couch. I can only guess that this is her home but I don't have time to contemplate on the fact because I'm beginning to realize the fullness of my injury as she desperately tells the boy orders. She tears the sleeve off over my shoulder and I wince in pain as the boy returns with medical supplies. I can feel tears gathering in my eyes but I manage to glance down at the wound to see red, puckered skin torn open as she tries to mop up the blood. I grit my teeth together, trying to rack my brain for an explanation for the pain, but there's absolutely nothing there. No recent memories that would reveal how I came to be here, but no memories as to where I was before I came here. I let out a pained sob and it's all I can do to not become hysterical. She looks at me and I can see the terror in her eyes surfacing, the fear is plain on her face.

“I'm so sorry,” she says as she digs tweezers into the hole in my shoulder. I scream as she plucks a bullet from the wound.

My stomach is turning as she applies a new piece of gauze to my shoulder, pressing down hard to stop the bleeding. The tears roll down my cheeks as heat builds in my face. My head feels light and everything seems distant.

“Where am I? Who are you?” I manage to say but it's too late because I'm gone before I can hear the answer.

When I wake, the house is dark. I'm still on the couch but with a knit blanket draped over me and a clean gray tee-shirt on. I glance down at my arm, still hurting but subdued, and slip the sleeve over my shoulder to find it patched with a clean white cloth secured to my skin with medical tape. I scan the room and find her sitting in a rocking chair to my left with a book, a lamp lit on a table next to her. She glances over at me and gives me a tired, halfhearted smile. I try to return the gesture but end up grimacing.