Page 73 of Amnesia

I was shocked to realize they weren’t much taller than me. Not nearly as big as I’d thought before. I couldn’t make out the size or shape of their body because the stupid cloak was gigantic, covering them like a tarp.

“What do you want?” I demanded, my heart pounding relentlessly.

The person lifted their arm, pointing at me with a gloved hand and arm. They said nothing, just stood and pointed.

I think that single act was creepier than them trying to drug me with a chemical-drenched cloth. I jolted into action and started around the bed to run for the door. To get out of there, to get some help!

The person shoved the bed into me, the mattress swinging inward. I fell back, screaming, grappling for something to break my fall, and caught hold of the curtain that hung around the bed. I dragged it down with me. The popping sounds it made coming unhooked from the track in the ceiling were so loud they were like gunshots.

“Help me!” I screamed again, getting tangled in the fabric.

“Amnesia?” someone yelled. “Call security!”

Out in the hall, another voice shouted, “Stop right there!

After fighting off the curtain, I clambered to my feet.

Mary Beth was there helping me up, steadying me. “Oh my gosh, what happened?” she asked.

“Someone tried to drug me,” I said, glancing wildly around the room. But the person was gone. The only thing they left behind was the tinge in the air of whatever they were trying to poison me with.

“Chloroform,” Mary Beth said, making a face. “I’d know that awful scent anywhere.”

“Amnesia!” Ellen exclaimed, rushing into the room. “Are you all right?”

“Did you see them? Did anyone see?” I asked desperately.

“I did,” Ellen said sagely. “I saw them run down the hall, all covered in black.”

I sagged in relief.

Mary Beth put her arm out to steady me. “Back to bed,” she told me, steering me toward the crooked bed.

“I’ll call the police,” Ellen said, rushing from the room.

Tears fell down my cheeks and trembles overtook my body.

“What can I get for you?” Mary Beth asked, concern in her voice.

“I want Eddie,” I wailed.

Where the hell was he?

I didn’t know how to feel or what to think.

Actually, my brain was filled to the brim with thoughts. Sorting them out was the problem. Focusing on just one seemed near impossible.

I wandered the halls aimlessly, barely paying attention to where I went or how long I walked. The doctors lectured me about not going back with her. They needed time to stabilize her, and I would only make their job harder.

So I walked away. Actually, they shoved me away, but gradually, I went. I knew Am would be okay, but I was a different story.

I felt I was walking through a mixture of the past and present. As if I were outside walking through sunshine and bouts of rain.

I thought I’d known. In fact, I’d been absolutely sure. It felt right.

Amnesia felt right.

But it was wrong. Totally wrong.

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