Unremembered (Unremembered #1)(11)
I squeeze my fingers inside and draw out a crumpled and tattered piece of yellowed paper. The stale texture tells me that it was in the water with me.
I bring the paper over to the dresser and work to unfold it, smoothing it against the wooden surface.
I lean forward and squint at the shaky, faded letters, handwritten in thick black ink. The salt water certainly took its toll but I still manage to make out the only two words visible on the page.
Trust him.
A lump forms in my throat but I quickly swallow it back. I read the note over and over again, feeling more discouraged with every pass.
Trust him?
Trust who?
Who wrote this?
I squeeze my eyes closed, trying to shut out the frustration that is welling up inside me but it’s pointless. Emotion takes over. Scratching underneath my skin. Burning me from the inside out.
Why does everything have to be so cryptic? Why can’t anything just make sense?
I crumple up the note and bury it in my fist. Then I grab the locket from the top of the dresser and sit down in the chair that rocks. I sway until the exasperation has subsided.
I open the heart-shaped charm and stare into the emptiness, thinking about what might have been inside. What might have been lost at sea along with the memories of my favourite foods, car rides and summer camp.
Something Heather said as I was helping her wash dishes after lunch today is echoing in my mind.
‘We’re not here to replace your real family,’ she explained to me. ‘I want you to know that.’
I told her I already knew.
‘We’re just here to help out until they can be found. And I’m 100 per cent positive that they will be found. But we’re here for you as long as you need us.’
I thanked her and placed the plate in my hand into the dishwasher like she’d shown me a few minutes earlier. I liked how each dish had a place that was made especially for it. A perfectly sized slot.
As I hold my locket in my hand and read the inscription again, S + Z = 1609, I find myself wondering if such a place exists for me. Maybe it did. But maybe it, too, was forever lost.
Everyone around me is so confident that one day I will remember. That my family will be found, my memories will be restored and my life will be returned to me.
But unfortunately I don’t share this conviction. I don’t believe what they so strongly believe. Because for some reason, my memories don’t feel temporarily misplaced. They feel gone.
And if that’s the case, then my only chance of having a life that I can call my own is to create one myself.
I place the crumpled piece of yellowed paper inside the locket and snap it closed. Then I stand up and walk back to the dresser. I pull open the top drawer and slide the necklace inside, vowing to forget it along with everything else from my past.
Vowing to move forward to find my new perfect place.
8
CRAVED
I am back in the crowd. Trying to leave the hospital but I can’t get through. The swarm of people is too thick. They ask me questions. Pull at my clothes. Grab my arms and legs and hair. They yank me in different directions.
My escort has been swallowed up ahead of me. I am alone.
I try to fight them off. But they are too strong. Because there are so many of them.
I plead, begging them to let me go. But they don’t answer. I try to capture somebody’s attention, but one by one they fade before my eyes. Until they have all blended into one giant, dark stranger. With cold, ruthless blue eyes and a wide, sinister smile. His features are cast in shadow but I know he’s watching me.
Always watching.
He doesn’t speak. He never speaks. He only observes.
There’s a hunger in his presence. A greed. He wants me. He anticipates me. And every day his desire for me grows stronger.
I squirm under his gaze, eager to get away. But there is nowhere to go. I am trapped. His prisoner.
His voice emerges from the darkness like a snake slithering into the light. ‘When will she be ready?’ he asks.
I scream and wake up.
This is my first dream.
9
SCANNED
Today Heather has to go to something called a supermarket to buy food for Cody’s return. Scott is at work and she doesn’t want to leave me home alone so she takes me with her, promising that no one will recognize me.
I still feel better when she offers to lend me a navy-blue hat with a white logo on the front. ‘Scott’s favourite baseball team,’ she explains as she pulls the rim down to my eyebrows, cloaking most of my face in shadow. Then she slides something she calls sunglasses over my eyes and the world becomes a few shades darker.
‘Now I can imagine how all those celebrities must feel,’ she says with a laugh as I get out of the car.
Heather has loaned me a few more articles of clothing to wear until we have a chance to buy some for me. The pants are too big and have to be held up by a belt and the green collared shirt is long but it covers the belt.
We enter the store and I immediately stop and take in the overwhelming site.
Market: a location to buy and sell merchandise.
Super: very large.
Heather places her hand gently on my elbow. ‘It’s all right. Just stay close to me.’
I do as she says, watching with immense curiosity as she places item after item in the cart. She adds commentary along the way about Cody’s love of certain foods and his allergy to others. She makes guesses about what I might like, referencing things she’s heard or seen on TV about what teenage girls prefer to eat.