Page 124 of Amnesia

My voice was shaky when I spoke. “If he wants me back so bad, why did he try and kill me in the first place?”

“Kill you?” She scoffed, incredulous. “He didn’t try to kill you.”

“Yes, he did!” I cried, lurching toward her. She waved the oar near me, clipping me on the shoulder. I grunted and fell back. “I remember! I’d been drowning in the lake, and he was looming above the surface, waiting for me…” I swallowed, pushing the fear that arose in me back down. “The second I came up for air, he hit me with something hard, and I blacked out, nearly drowned.”

“Is that what you think?” she mused, once again calmly rowing like this was some Sunday afternoon activity.

“I know,” I spat, unnerved by her erratic mood swings.

She chuckled. “You have it all wrong. He never tried to kill you that night. We haven’t tried to kill you since.”

“But I remember,” I argued, starting to doubt myself. An uncomfortable, dark feeling arose within me. I stared at the widow as she rowed.

“Someone did try to kill you that night.” She went on, adding fuel to the sick fire within me.

“Who?” I commanded.

Her eyes, which were dark and sort of vacant looking, swung to mine, and though she was looking right at me, it was as if she didn’t see me at all.

“You,” she answered simply. “You’re the one who tried to kill yourself.”

The reply was like a current of supercharged electricity slamming into my chest and electrocuting my entire body. I fell back against the boat. The wood on the bottom dug into my scalp and shoulder blades the second I collapsed. I stared up at the endless sky, inky black without the presence of stars. It served as a backdrop for the memory that overtook my brain, flickering to life like a B-rated horror film.

The terror of the present fell away, and I was transported back to the past.

The night I tried to kill myself.

I couldn’t hear anything but the sound of my own frantic breathing. My lungs wheezed and burned, but I begged them not to fail. If they did, a fate worse than death would befall me.

I was so out of practice in running, but I did it anyway. It was hard and I was scared, but part of my brain flickered with freedom and the rush my limbs got from being able to move the way they were meant to.

My bare feet were cold and numb. I could feel the flesh ripping with every step I took. The rocky, uneven ground tore into my soles like a hungry wolf after the first scent of fresh blood. I kept going, trying not to stumble as I glanced behind me every few seconds.

I heard him yelling, the sound of breaking branches and rustling trees as he lunged after me. He was angry, so, so angry.

I didn’t care. This was my chance, the only one I’d ever had and probably ever would again.

Long-fingered trees reached out to me, my hair tangled in the branches, and I felt it torn from my scalp as I continued to rush. The smell of earth and water was all around, the air tinged with something sweet… something like honeysuckle.

He hollered again, and I tripped and fell. My hands and knees smacked into the ground, the palm of my hand slicing open on a jagged rock. Shoving up off the ground, I continued running, looking for somewhere to hide.

Not far ahead, there was an old hunting stand. I remembered it from the one time I was allowed on this side of the island. I remembered staring up at it, wondering what the view would be like that high above the ground and wondering if I would be able to signal for help.

Glancing behind me once more, I saw he was out of sight. Hope sparked inside me, an emotion I genuinely thought had drained away completely. I surged forward and leapt onto the tree. The ladder leading up was broken, so I had to climb partially up the tree to get to it.

My fingers and toes shredded on the bark, but I clawed my way up until my hands closed around the ladder and I was able to scramble the rest of the way. Once atop the hunting stand, I didn’t admire the view or scream for help. I squished myself as far into the corner, as close to the rotted railing, as I could, rocking back and forth, praying he would forget this place even existed.

The sound of him crashing around below made my body tremble so violently I had to scoot forward so I didn’t fall off the edge of the stand. The view caught my eye, and I noticed the endless stretch of lake just beyond the platform. The sun had nearly set; the hour was twilight, quickly fading into night.

Below, the water was moving rapidly, smacking against itself. The color was ominous and turned up a putrid brown shade.

“Got ya!” he growled, his voice nearby.

A small whimper escaped my throat, and I went to the other side of the platform to stare down below the tree. Our eyes met and held.

He smiled.

I wondered if I would see a pleasant smile ever again. I probably wouldn’t even recognize what it looked like.

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