Page 43 of Amnesty

I followed her eyes, looking up into the trees.

There was a deer stand over us, up in the branches. Leaves fell over it, covering the old, unreliable wood with foliage.

“That’s what I jumped from that night, the night you found me.”

My stomach twisted. Stepping closer to the line of trees, I peered over the edge, glancing down at the water. It was rocky down there. A few feet out, the water was clearer, less dangerous. She must have jumped outward, away from the rocks.

“I guess that proves the memory I have of jumping off it. Of running from him here, on this island.”

I lunged forward, grabbing her, roughly pulling her against me. I wasn’t sure if I was holding her so tight for her or for me. Maybe it was both.

“He’s not here,” I told her. “He can’t hurt you today.”

“The memories will always hurt me. They threaten to appear any moment.”

My heart squeezed. She was right, and I hated it.

Amnesia pulled away and continued on.

“Where are you going?” I said, rushing to catch up.

She didn’t answer, just kept moving, weaving through the trees. Abruptly, she stopped again, staring off in the distance. I could see the way her breathing increased, the way her chest rose and fell rapidly.

Her body began to shake. She chewed her lip nervously.

“Amnesia.” I grabbed her arm, trying to pull her close.

“Here,” she said, resisting me. “He’s here.”

Concern darkened my face. “There’s nothing here, baby,” I said gently. “It’s just trees and dirt.

Her eyes flashed up to mine. “He’s here.” She insisted. “I can feel it.”

She was creeping me out. “Okay,” I answered patiently. “Where?”

She turned in a circle, so I did, too. “We’re missing something,” she murmured. “Think, Amnesia.Think.”

We stood there for a long time. I watched her pace a small area over and over again. She became increasingly agitated, which was very difficult to stand by and observe.

Veering from her pacing, she wandered over toward the edge of the island. The drop-off toward the water wasn’t as sharp. She stood with her back to me, hair blowing wildly around her face, and the giant Loch Ness on the back of the hoodie stared at me, almost mocking.

“Why can’t I remember?” she screamed toward the water. “Why?”

I was done with this. Done with watching her suffer.

Rushing forward, I wrapped my arms around her from behind and pulled her tight against me. “That’s enough, Am. No more. You’re killing me.”

She started to cry. Deep, gut-wrenching sobs that wound me up so tight it hurt to even take a breath. “I just want to know,” she wailed, her knees buckling.

I supported her weight, keeping her upright as she sobbed. I pressed my face into her neck, wishing I knew how to take this away.

With a hiccup, she turned, wrapped her arms around my waist, and squeezed close. I pressed my hand against the back of her head.

She cried more, then ripped away, stumbling a few feet behind me.

I went after her. Before I caught up, she melted to the ground, sitting cross-legged and bowing her head.

Sniffles floated around her, and my heart broke. I sank down to the ground with her, spread my legs so she was between them, and tugged her close.

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