Page 21 of Please Remember

"It's hard for me to wrap my head around how you know so much about me. My memories start seven or so years ago, but you have this lifetime of recollections. Even birthday parties and school things that have nothing to do with us. It's such a crushing thought to know I've lost something without really knowing what I've lost." I pause and watch him stare at me. "Does that make sense?"

Nodding, he gives me a sad smile. "You miss something you don't fully know or understand."

"I have this gut feeling that I had a good life. Great, even."

"You did," he whispers, his grip on my hand unwavering. "You were happy. Not all the time, but no one really is. If they are, they're usually medicated to the max."

I giggle. "That's true. It's like missing someone you don't know. I miss myself because... I don't know myself."

"I get that."

A moment of silence washes over us, but it’s not uncomfortable, if anything it feels… welcome. Easy. Safe.

"You're staring at me,” I whisper, no sense of accusation in my tone. “I can feel it even if I can't really see it."

His mouth twitches into a sad smile. "I'm scared to fall asleep," Jax admits.

"You are?"

"I'm scared that I'll wake up to find you gone. If you're not here when I wake up, I very likely will need to be locked up in the loony bin."

For some reason, the comment strikes me as amusing, and I laugh. "Maybe that would be the best place for me for a while. It'll be secure, at least. I very much doubt whoever did this would try and walk into a psych ward to get me, and an added bonus is I'd get all the good drugs. I know you said I don't like being medicated, but it might not hurt right now. It might even be fun to bounce around in a padded room."

He chuckles with me, and it feels like this is kind of okay. Almost normal. "Only if I can go with you."

"Obviously. We'd be medicated together, and our same fears, for different reasons, would disappear."

"I just want to be wherever you are. I wish I could explain how it felt to be without you, not knowing where you were. Not knowing if you were okay."

The darkness we lay in gives me a boost of confidence. I can't easily see the expressions on Jax's face, and it feels like there’s a veil over us making it safe to say and ask what I want. "You don't like when I talk about what it was like in the basement, do you?"

"Why do you say that?"

"Anytime I mention it, you sigh. It's almost like you're resisting and pushing the words away."

"I suppose in a way, I am. It's just uncomfortable to think about, that's all."

I nod, realizing how it's normal for me. Scary, but normal. "I can avoid talking about it if you want."

"Do you need to talk about it?"

"It's the only thing I know. The only part of my life I remember. It's kind of hard to participate in much, especially when certain topics come up because it's the only source of reference I have."

He stays silent for a few moments. "I never really thought about it like that."

"It's hard for you to hear, isn't it?"

"It is, but I don't want you to keep it to yourself if you need to talk about it. Part of me wants to know because I want to know everything about you, but I don't want to know because it'll make it real."

Sniffling, I think about it for a few moments. "I wasn't never hit. No, that's a lie, I was hit a few times, early on, but it was more to keep me in line and teach me rather than the person taking pleasure in it. I was given food, even though it was gross, every day. I had a flashlight, and they replaced the batteries frequently to make sure I was never locked in the dark. And I had reading materials to pass the time. All things considered, it could have been a lot worse."

"It still sounds terrible," he says and sighs. "Sorry, I didn't mean to do that. I think it's involuntary."

"It's okay," I say, letting the silence and darkness wash over us.

My eyes close, and I start to fall asleep. The sounds outside prevent me from truly falling into a slumber, and my eyes pop open. Heart racing, I try and focus on Jax's hand in mine. Everything around me sounds so familiar. Just like before, if not louder. The sounds of bugs chirping around the house. A far-off howl of a wolf or wolf-like animal.

I remember lying on the cot so many nights in the beginning wondering if the wolf was able to get into the house. Into the basement. If he had, my shackles would have prevented me from running away, and I'd have been easy prey. There was also nowhere to hide or attempt to climb. No way for me to get away from anyone or anything trying to hurt me.

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