Don't Go (Jenlisa Adaptation)

42. Memories

This story is adapted from the original story 'Don't Go' by emjaywrites. This is just an adaptation! All rights belong to the original owner.

Enjoy and thank you for reading :)

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Lisa

Lisa awoke to Jennie. Where was she?

Jennie smiled down at Her. Smiled? Smiled at her?

"Here's your dinner," She smiled, handing it to Lisa carefully.

The scent of... a very interesting concoction of poison wafted up to her nose. She was very sensitive to poison, since it was often a way people tried to assassinate her.

She paused as Jennie watched her eagerly. She was trying to kill her. Where was this place? This was not the manor.

"Where is..."

Jennie's eyes narrowed the tiniest bit. Lisa licked her lips. "Napkin. Where is a napkin? Please."

Jennie smiled, but Lisa sensed the relief.

She was shot by her sister. The time line added up. But the only issue was... the memory after the boy brought her here is missing.

Which can only mean she was shot again.

It takes a full 3 years after being shot in the head, for her brain to retrieve the memories of the incident, and everything that followed.

Because having an alloy stranger than titanium was traumatizing to the brain, it removed any memory of any incident until it could recover.

Thus, leaving her in a state of amnesia for 3 years.

Because she couldn't remember up to that point, it must have meant she shot her. She could not gain access of the memories until 3 years since the incident occured.

But she didn't need a memory to know what was happening.

Jennie tried to kill her when the boy brought her here. Since the child was young when this whole thing occurred, and because it was a traumatic event, he didn't even know who he'd picked up.

Of course, Jennie did though. She forced herself to eat the poisoned soup as she thought.

Jennie seemed to have helped. She remembered someone being there, but it was a blur. She was most likely weakening her until she died with several doses of poison a day.

She looked up at her. She was so satisfied watching her spoon the letahl chemicals in her mouth.

Of course she wanted her dead.

Now it was a matter of what to do. She was weak, both from weeks of poison and months without exercise, proper nutrition and hydration.

Also... she owed her. She owed her much more than her life. So she played along.

The amount she was giving her would take her years to die. She almost wanted to tell her the correct amount of the correct poison to give her that'd finish her off in minutes.

It'd have to be something she hasn't built up a tolerance too though, and that was scarce. She was poisoned a little almost everyday by someone.

She considered it a sign of friendship these days.

She finished the soup setting it down.

"Thank you Jennie," She whispered.

She smiled, touching her face. "You seem a little pale."

She closed her eyes, trying not to head the silent glee at the though of her demise.

"Yes. I think I need sunlight."

"Oh... well, come on. We'll sit in the balcony."

She took her hand, walking her to the small balcony, where they stared out of the window.

"Jennie, what are you to me?" She asked.

"I told you. Your wife silly."

Wife...

"Yes, but just because you marry someone doesn't mean that you love them."

She narrowed her eyes at her. "That's true. But I told you we were childhood sweethearts."

Does she know? I wish I could tell her. She thought.

"Jennie, I feel better. If you give me my medicine, I'll leave now."

She frowned. "Excuse me?"

"well, even though we're married, I don't think I love you. I need to find myself. I need space to think-"

She sighs. She half expected her to try to kill her. Instead, she leans forward and kissed her.

Kissed her.

Lisa sighed, as Jennie stood, taking Lisa's hand. She led her to the bedroom, where she helped her lie down.

She straddled her, her body on top of her, her will on top of her, and told her not to touch her.

It was so familiar. Just like the last time. No this was different.

Because last time she was at her mercy by choice. This time she... unwittingly had her at her complete mercy because she was simply... simply too weak to resist.

Is this how Jennie felt in those days?

She felt betrayed. By her own body. By her mind. By her.

Nothing made sense. But she knew one thing: Jennie wanted her dead, and she wanted to watch her die.

Jennie was aware that she might regain her memory, and so she kept a close eye on her at all times.

It was going to be tough to escape.

Or she could just... die. She'd be so dismayed if she knew. With the concoction Jennie made, it'd probably take about seven or eight years, give or take, even with the amount of doses she was giving her.

Jennie must have sent the boy away. She'll hate her more, not being able to see her son for nearly eight years.

The boy would be about... 15 by then.

Jennie looked at her, but her hands on her bare chest.

"What are you thinking about?" Jennie asked.

"Nothing, Jennie." She smiled. "Nothing at all."

-

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