Page 126 of Amnesia

I was running from myself. Scared of myself.

Oh, I was so much more fucked up than I ever could have imagined.

“Amnesia!” a familiar voice yelled in the distance. “Amnesia!”

I perked up, forgetting momentarily about the memory swamping my brain. “Eddie!” I screamed.

“Shut up!” Widow West shrieked and swung the oar at me again.

I was ready for it this time, though, and caught the end before it could smack me. The force of the blow rattled my body and made my arms ache, but I held firm, stopping the hit and throwing all my bodyweight into shoving her and the oar back.

She stumbled and tripped over the side of the canoe, her body making a splash when she hit.

“Eddie!” I screamed again before turning back to where she fell in the water.

“Am!” he roared. “Where are you?”

The widow was sputtering and splashing around. Her angry yells barely registered as I scouted around the bottom of the boat, feeling through the darkness for anything I could use to signal where I was.

The low hum of what sounded like a motor sounded in the distance, and hope spread through my chest that it was him and he was coming for me as fast as he could.

Hope. Not a feeling that was gone forever after all. Maybe all I needed was to forget how it felt to have none at all.

My hand closed around something slim and cold. A sound of triumph slipped from my lips as I found the button and clicked on the flashlight.

“Here!” I yelled, waving the light around madly, trying to signal where I was.

The boat rocked, and I fell backward. The light slipped from my hands, dropping into the bottom of the boat. Widow West was attempting to pull herself over the side. Grappling for the flashlight, I used it to smash down over her hands.

She cried out in pain and dropped back into the water. Clicking the light, I glanced around for the second oar so I could use it to get away from her. But there wasn’t one; the one and only oar had gone overboard.

Using the light to create a spotlight on the dark, murky water, I sought out the paddle. It wasn’t hard to find. The widow was using it as a floatation device as she stared daggers at me.

“Give me the oar,” I ground out.

She laughed.

I reached for it, trying to pull it from beneath her, but she swam backward, out of arm’s reach. Frustration welled in me, but the sound of a boat drawing closer made me forget about it. I surged around and began waving the light again.

A shape appeared in the dark. It was a light spot against all the black, and my heart leapt. I screamed his name and waved my arms wildly, ignoring the dizziness in my head and the pain in my crushed fingers.

The canoe began rocking as the boat approached, made a wide turn, and the engine cut. Silence settled over the night, with the exception of the moving water.

“Am,” Eddie called across the short distance. “Thank Christ. Are you hurt?”

“I’m fine. What about you?”

“Fine now that I have eyes on you,” he said. “I can’t get much closer,” he explained. “I need you to swim over to me.”

I nodded, tossed down the flashlight, and prepared to jump in.

The widow emerged from the depths, somehow throwing herself into the canoe. I stumbled and fell under the unsteady movements of the boat. Mrs. West leapt on top of me, her hands going to my throat.

“I don’t care what he says!” She raged. “I’ll kill you!”

Her eyes were nearly popping out of her head, the wet strands of her hair in clumps around her face and shoulders. Her icy fingers wrapped around my neck. It was as if she were coming apart right before my eyes.

I felt sorry for her. She was evil and nasty, but I knew she was a victim. Just like me.

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