She Forgot The Sky

Prologue

Light seared through her eyelids — cold, humming, nothing like the warmth of sunlight she'd once known. 

She tried to sit up, but something tightened around her torso, pulling her back down. Straps? No — something firmer, colder.

The light kept pushing inward, needling into her thoughts. Then came the sound: a steady beep, soft at first, but quickly sharpening into agony.

"Rain?"

A voice — warm and thick, like honey poured over the sharp edge of her mind. Familiar. Too familiar.

"Who are you...? Where am I?"
Her voice rasped, broken, like it hadn't been used in weeks. Panic clawed at her as she reached for memories — and found nothing. 

"I didn't think you'd ever wake up."
The voice cracked. Not just from surprise — from grief.

As her vision sharpened, her gaze locked onto a pair of piercing blue eyes — eyes so achingly familiar that her whole body seemed to exhale at once.
She felt herself melt, not just from recognition, but from something deeper — a sense of safety she hadn't known she'd lost.

"You feel so familiar... and yet I can't remember you."
Her voice trembled, thick with despair, as tears spilled silently down her cheeks.

"Do you remember your name?" His eyes search hers, desperate for even a flicker of recognition. It's on the tip of her tongue, hovering just out of reach. She squeezes her eyes shut, willing the memory to return, heart hammering against the emptiness that won't give way.

In the void, all she can manage is a small shake of her head. Her heartbeat thunders in her skull as she tugs and pulls at the restraints. "I'm not some kind of monster! I shouldn't be tied down like this!" It feels like a scream, but really, it's a desperate cry.

The blue-eyed man leans closer, grief and pleading etched across his face, and for a moment, she wonders if he's the only thing keeping her tethered to herself—or if remembering him will be the thing that shatters her completely.