I became aware of myself before I knew what it meant. I knew
some things but other things remained foreign. My arms and legs were tied
tightly to a wooden chair with rough coiled rope. The pressure of a cold hollow
room pressed upon me, the emptiness profound in its nothing. Voices echoed off
the walls, ringing in my ears in an empty vibration as if I too were hollow. Voices
echoed sharp and angry against thin metal sheets and fell flat and hostile on
the dry cement ground.
My eyes struggled to see into the enveloping darkness facing
me. I saw a towering ceiling as my eyes adjusted, at least 20 feet high, and
the room spanned out in front of me until the pitch swallowed the twinkling
light leaking through the cracks between the nails in the tin ceiling. Grime
covered windows lined the top of the walls.
My feet were bare, the heels covered in dirt and a few
fallen leaves sat beside them. My toes glowed in pale cleanliness while my
heels hid in murky shadows, giving the appearance of the German version of the fabled
Cinderella when the ugly sister cut off her heel in order to fit into the glass
slipper. I rubbed my feet on the concrete, convincing my fear soaked mind they
were whole. A knee length, deep blue cotton dress fell in tatters at my knees. It shifted softly on my thighs like a slip. The
weight of my heavy hair brushed my shoulders in comfort but I had no idea if it
was blond, brown, or red.
I
struggled against my bindings. I pulled and tugged at the rough coiled ropes
at my wrists and feet until they were red and raw. I tried to shake the chair to the side, but found it bolted to the
ground. Not knowing why or how I got here didn’t
matter, it was clear I needed to get out, and fast. My heart rate picked up,
beating loud in my chest until I thought I would pass out from the force of it.
I continued to struggle at the ropes on my wrists, urgently trying to loosen
them before the people who owned the angry voices showed their faces.
Then
they arrived.
My
stomach clenched when two men appeared out of the dark. Their heavy boots thumped
against the concrete floor with purpose. With new fervor my arms yanked at the
restraints. I screamed in frustration and fear filled my throat with hot air.
Tears itched at the corner of my eyes before releasing into a steady stream down my
flushed cheeks.
Being
tied to a chair meant interrogation. Interrogation meant information. These men
wanted information from me but I didn’t even know who I was.
“It’s
awake.” The taller of the two men growled.
They
came toward me but stopped a good five feet away. Their shifting gazes and
pause told me they were scared.
“Please,
let me go.” My voice croaked.
Salt
slipped onto my lips. I licked them, the flavor strange and wonderful, new yet
strangely familiar.
“Yeh
right.” The other man said. He was short
and round, his belly shook as he bounced on his heels, staring at me with
possession and greed as his hands dove in and out of his back pockets in
anticipation. I had to look away from his grotesque form. “Yer not going anywhere til’ we get the
government here and get our rightly due money.” He said before giving a great
hiccup, the stench of celebratory liquor wafted, and stale smoke rode on the
waves.
The
sight of these men in their stained clothes and alcohol drenched breath made me
lean away, pushing against the wood backing of the chair. They called me ‘it’,
what the hell did they think I was? Clearly I was a confused and dirty girl in a
ruined dress. And they called government? Maybe I was a spy and I
couldn't remember, maybe I took a pill to forget so I wouldn’t divulge any
information.
“First
we gone do some tests and stuff, before them cops show up.” The first said.
“But
they said they ain’t coming unless it be to arrest us.” The chubby guy said. The tall man yelled in outrage at being talked back to and smacked the short man on the back of the head, causing him to stumble forward, closer to me.
His face shone bright red with anger at being
hit. Straightening, he saw how close he stood to her and yelped, leaping back.
The other man laughed before bringing out a large switch blade from his belt.
As
one man retreated, the other stalked forward while eyeing me like dangerous prey.
He crouched low holding his knife out. I flinched as the cold blade pressed
against my calf. He pressed the blade harder and slit it along my skin. My breath caught and a squeak of horror slowly inched from my throat. When he did it again I screamed.
The sound scared me as it echoed back like a caged animal. The pain was horrible, it burned my leg and blinded my mind. I coudn't see. I feared the wound
somehow broke my brain as I struggled to breathe and think. I sobbed as fear and
pain fought for domination. As my vision cleared I saw dark red blood drip down my
calf into a small pool gathered next to my foot. I shook, feeling lost to life, and
stared in horror as the men looked on in shock at the blood. Disappointment and anger
clear on their slack faces.
“You
can’t fool us! You might look like a girl and bleed like a human but you
ain’t!” The plump man yelled.
The
taller man, clearly the leader of the two, shushed him, staring intently into
my face. I looked back too scared of what he might do if I looked away, afraid
weakness of not meeting his gaze would show guilt of something I didn’t understand. They didn't even believe I was human.
“Please,
let me go.” I whispered again, pleading for them to see reason in their
disappointment. I widened my eyes, coaxing them to see the truth. Willing them to see into my soul, I was not what they thought I was, how could I
be?
“Not
until them officials get here.”
They
refused to see the logic missing from the statement. When the officials arrived,
I would not be let go, rather transferred.
“Tell
me where you’re from.”
“I…I
don’t know!” I said, my voice breaking, “I don’t know who I am or anything.”
The
tall man’s eyes narrowed. His knuckles whitened on the knife as he approached
me, rage contorting his face, “You’re a fucking alien! You fell from the sky,
you’re going to kill us all or take us over. I won’t let that happen!” he
yelled into my ear as his knife slinked up to my throat.
Pure
terror filled me. My eyes squeezed shut and through my lids I saw a white light. A high whine followed by a loud pop filled the room. The light
dimmed, then silence. I opened my eyes expecting to see government officials
crashing through the high windows, swinging on ropes with guns at the ready.
Nothing.
No government officials in riot gear wielding guns, no men in suits with dark
shades sauntering over, and no drunken men with knives. I felt something slide
along my wrists and glanced down to watch the ropes that held my wrists and ankles
fall to the ground, singed black and broken into pieces. Tentatively, I lifted my arms up. The raised red skin encircling my wrists had a fine line of
black ash along the top where the rope burned.
I
hugged myself for a moment, feeling the relief of being free of the bindings. Then with a start I
shot out of the chair and sprung forward, getting away from the imprisoning
chair, wondering how long I had been captive to it.
My
legs, unused to standing, failed me. I fell to the ground, bruising my palms. I wanted to scream but nothing came out, I
had no voice left in me. I wanted to
understand who and where I was. I curled onto the ground and sobbed.
Minutes
later I stood up feebly, my legs still did not want to carry my weight. I took
one small step at a time, expecting to find an exit through the dark envelope
ahead. As I stumbled through the dark, I approached a lump on the ground. I
avoided my gaze, somehow knowing it would be a gruesome sight. As I continued to
walk by more pieces, I experienced what could only be cooling blood congealing under
my naked shuffling feet. I ignored it, moving forward. I refused to look, to see
blood trickling from the open mouth of the fat man, eyes staring vacantly
toward the ceiling. I didn't look but still I saw it. I knew. And, I
knew I had something to do with it. I tore them apart.
I
told myself I didn’t hear anything but a pop. I lied to myself, I had heard ripping, screaming,
blood splattering and then a dozen thumps as body parts smacked onto the
cement.
I
shuffled faster, away from the bodies. A door with a faint red EXIT sign appeared
to the right. I raced toward it, my feet adjusting to my balance as I leaned forward, pushing toward the sign. Eager for the fresh night air outside the door I was unable to stop my momentum and smashed into the door. My head thumped on the cold
metal, rocking me backward. I groaned and placed my palm to my forehead. My
knees began to shake with the effort of holding me. I look down at the door
to see it had a horizontal handle along the middle segment, a metal push lever
to open it. I smashed into it, the force of my body flinging it open.
The
night gloriously held clear heavens filled with bright stars that pinpricked the
deep velvet of the sky, calming me as I continued to pick up pace across an
abandoned parking lot. The lights of nearby stores and street lights flickered off as I passed.
My
soft feet ached as I trudged along. Cuts and blisters formed on the soles of my
feet. I winced with every meek step. The air rushed through me, the dress
flapping at my knees. I had to get away, further away, off the warm tarmac and
onto cool grass.
Dawn
began to approach as I burst into a park far beyond the reach of the building
where I was held. Towering trees guided me through crisscrossed paths to a bench
beneath a large oak. There I watched the pinks and purples of the sun in the distance.
I reluctantly said goodbye to the night. A strange feeling of losing a friend. I
could not place the feeling, except it had a deep heart wrenching of loss.
I
took a final look at the last star visible in the lighting sky. It blinked at
me, winking, before disappearing with the rest. I had the vague idea I somehow
belonged to that last star, that we knew one another and now I wouldn’t see it
ever again.
I
glared at the edge of the sun, bringing light onto me. Taking away all I
thought I knew. I wanted the night. I may not have known who I was, but I knew
the first time I was aware was nighttime. I wanted to sleep in night’s
welcoming dark warmth as the stars winked secrets in the portal of my eyes.
I had no idea what to do next. Soon
there would be nothing left in me and I would shrivel up and crumble to the
ground like misplaced trash. With no idea where
I was, where I was from or who I was, I couldn’t come up with a place to go.
Even if I did, I wouldn’t know how to get there.
Without
my approval, tears again pooled down my cheeks. I brushed them away roughly. The
cut at my leg throbbed and I knew I had to get it cleaned and bandaged. I could
walk around hoping to find a hospital but I would have no ID to
give them. I had no money and so no means to help myself.
I
looked up to the tree, the leaves so still not a single one rustled, yet I shook like a leaf. With the shock of what had happened, I began to hyperventilate. Even as
I put my head between my knees and tried to regain control of my breathing, I
grew annoyed at knowing what hyperventilating was, and how to stop it, yet I
couldn’t even remember my own name or age. Amnesia took away the most important part of a
person.
As I
sat with my head between my knees, cursing myself and crying into the grassy
ground beneath me, I noticed a pair of feet sidle up next to mine in worn black vans. The slight
depression of the bench beside me gave me a start and I stopped breathing. Head
between my legs, not breathing, I hoped this person would not engage me in conversation.
Maybe if I stayed absolutely still, they wouldn’t see me.
“Are
you ok?” A young man’s voice asked.
With
an internal grown I sat up, pulling my dress down and crossing my legs. The man
was young, mid-twenties. He had black hair speckled
red in the sun. His dark green eyes gazed down at me, concerned and so large they were all I could see of his face. The man indicated to my bare and
dirty feet and torn dress.
“Rough
night?”
“The
usual kidnap, tied to a chair and amnesia.” I mumbled, betting the truth sounded more like a dismissal.
First
he looked confused bordering on amusement as his lips curled up, but wonderment
got the better of him as his eyes narrowed. He straightened and leaned in closer.
“Are
you ok?” he asked again in hushed urgency as his eyes bore
into mine, “Should I take you to the police?”
I nodded,
then remembered the men in the warehouse; their deaths and how they called the police because they thought I was an alien. The same police this man would take me to. They would want to question me then detain me when
I could not answer the questions they sought. It would lead to psychiatrists I couldn’t
pay for and then a strange hospital.
Shaking
my head I told him no, not the police. The guy didn’t question me or demand a reason.
He simply nodded and remained silent and by my side for a good ten minutes. I
fidgeted with the hem of my dress, pulling on a loose string, unraveling it further. The deep blue thread was silky. I wrapped it around my finger in an
endless spiral.
The
man reached out and placed his hand on mine, stopping me from further ruining the dress. I stared at his hand on top of mine, my heart pounded in my
ears. Looking up at him I saw him staring at me, kindness and concern lined his
forehead. He removed his hand but deftly took the thread and yanked quickly,
snapping it short and close to the dress.
I was left with an inch of the silky thread dangling from my wrapped finger. I took the excess string and tucked it
under the wrapped segment on my right middle finger. The wound blue thread
reached from my first to second knuckle. I stroked it, a part of the night
still with me.
My head became fuzzy, black dots started to build up from the bottom of my vision. I could feel my body wavering, swaying from side to side as I tried to catch my breath. Holding my head with one hand and onto the bench with the other, I willed my mind to stay awake, to not pass out.
“Right,
you’re coming with me.” He said.
The man stood from the bench and held out his hand. Unwilling to outright trust him I stood
on my own and faced him, trying to figure out
his intentions. I started to sway again, unable to keep my balance. The guy hesitated, in that moment I knew he didn't want to touch me or help me as much as he now intended to. He didn't know me, after all. But he lifted my left arm around his shoulder and I begrudgingly let him.
“You
don’t know who you are, have no place to go, and are about to pass out.” He said. "I want to take you to my place so you can get cleaned up, eat and get some fresh clothes. Once you’re rested and refreshed, we can figure out what to do.
But, I can’t leave you out here alone and beat up.”
With
nothing else to lose and only help to gain, I looked into his inky green eyes
and let him lead me with most of my weight on his shoulders.
