Beautifully Damaged

1. Awakened

For the third time, I gained awareness. This time I was cautious. My eyes remained closed tightly as I listened closely to my surroundings. A slow, cool breeze rustled the leaves on the trees off to my right. My body still felt like it was on fire, but the ground beneath me was cool and moist against my cheek. I shivered, but not for the cold. I opened my eyes to a dark night on the pavement of a deserted road.

My throat was dry and I felt like a train wreck, but the atmosphere felt more… stable than it had before. Swallowing, I looked at my hand splayed by my face and moved the fingers. They responded. A sigh of relief escaped my lungs at the small accomplishment. Using my shaky strength, I pushed myself away from the ground and stood. The world tilted and lurched around me as I swayed on my feet, limbs outstretched as if I were a foal attempting its first wobbly steps on uncertain legs.

Strands of silvery blonde hair fell in my face, tickling my skin. I breathed in the scent of rain, making the woods to my left smell earthy and rich. Pure joy rose in my chest and I couldn't quite stifle the urge to laugh. Everything felt so real.

Once the initial euphoria of the situation faded, I realized that I still remembered nothing. With that revelation, the world came crashing down on me. Where did I live? Where was my family? Where was I? My blood ran cold. What had happened to me? My first words escaped my mouth.

“What’s my name?” Utter despair welled up in me. “Oh god,” I moaned wretchedly, running chilled, moist hands through my hair.

I had a vague memory of white lights, darkness and panic but I couldn’t even remember what had happened prior to waking up here. I searched further into my surroundings, trying to jog my scant memory. As I turned, my foot collided with an object on the ground. When had that gotten there? Uncertainly, I looked around for the owner of the bag before coming to the conclusion that it must have been mine. Suspicion ran rampant through me as I stared at the offending object. Sighing in resignation, I sat down next to it and opened it up. Inside was a wallet, a flashlight, a set of keys, a cell phone and a note. The note immediately set off alarm bells in my head, starting to feel like I was the victim in a well-crafted horror movie.

Finally, and with a frown, I took the slip of paper from the bag and flipped it open.

Your apartment is No. 54; floor five in the Taurus Building. Call a cab with the number listed below and the keys I left should gain you access. Your garage number is 6 and everything should have been taken care of. In the morning you will attend the local High School, directions are on the counter. I’m sorry I can’t help you anymore than I have.

Nothing but a local cab service phone number and an address was included at the foot of the note. Trepidation soured my stomach. There was no mention of who had written the note or, more importantly, why. None of this was in the least of ways making me feel any better about my situation. I could be walking to my death, but what did that prove? While I had so few facts, I couldn't judge where I stood or what made sense. The whole thing sounded pretty shady, but what else did I have? While I knew nothing of the world around me, I'd have to trust the anonymous writer. The thought didn't exactly inspire me with confidence and warm feelings.

Saving my despairing thoughts for another time, I snatched the wallet out of the bag. The leather sheen wasn't as worn as I thought it should have been if it was really mine. I felt like I was holding someone else's belongings and not my own. Prying the wallet open, I first searched for photos- real evidence that these things were meant for me would have been nice. Instead, I counted about two thousand dollars in cash and a visa card. Surprise nearly stopped my heart, and I had to count again to make sure.

Who was I, if I could confidently carry such a sum of money around? Two thousand dollars. That number felt so alien to me, so strange. It didn't take me long to wonder why. I quickly closed that part of the purse with shaking hans and searched through the documents in there instead, a rising sense of panic blocking out the thought of money.