The Memory Left Me

Chapter 1 Photograph

The shower was running.
Maria stood beneath it with her eyes closed.
Warm water slid through her hair.
For a few seconds, there was nothing else.
No thoughts.
No memories.
Just water.
Then she smelled something strange.
Metallic.
Maria opened her eyes.
The water falling from the showerhead had turned dark red.
She froze.
She looked down.
Her hands were stained.
Her sleeves were wet.
The bathroom floor was filling with the same color.
Maria stumbled backward.
"No..."
She reached for the tap.
It wouldn't move.
The water kept falling.
Then she heard a voice.
Quiet.
Almost familiar.
"Maria."
She stopped breathing.
Slowly, she looked toward the mirror.
Steam covered the glass.
At first, there was nothing.
Then a shape appeared behind the fog.
A person.
Tall.
Motionless.
A black mask hid the face.
Maria turned.
The bathroom was empty.
She looked back at the mirror.
The figure was gone.
But something remained.
A single number had been written across the fogged glass.
18
Maria stepped closer.
The lights flickered.
Once.
Twice.
The bathroom vanished.
Maria woke with a gasp.
Her eyes flew open.
Dark bedroom.
Silent room.
She sat completely still.
Her breathing was too fast.
Her heart hammered against her chest.
She looked around.
Her desk.
Her books.
Her curtains.
Her lamp.
Home.
Not the bathroom.
Not the shower.
Just her bedroom.
Maria pressed a hand against her forehead.
"Just a nightmare."
She said it quietly.
As though saying it louder might make it untrue.
Then she felt the dampness.
Her hair was wet.
Her shirt was damp.
Maria slowly looked toward the bathroom door.
It was closed.
She checked her phone.
6:42 a.m.
She hadn't been in the shower.
She was sure of it.
Then she noticed something on her pillow.
A photograph.
Maria stared at it.
She hadn't left a photograph there.
She picked it up.
The image showed her bathroom.
The same shower.
The same mirror.
The same tiles.
The same narrow window.
Maria's stomach tightened.
Then she saw the corner of the photograph.
Someone was standing inside the bathroom.
A black mask.
A dark coat.
Watching.
Maria turned the photograph over.
Blank.
She turned it back.
Her eyes moved to the mirror in the picture.
There was a reflection.
Maria.
Standing beneath the shower.
But the photograph had been taken from behind her.
Someone had been in the bathroom with her.
Someone close enough to take the picture.
Maria's fingers tightened around the edges.
She turned it over again.
Something was written there now.
Four words.
YOU DREAMED THIS BEFORE.
Maria stopped.
Before?
She blinked.
The writing remained.
Her eyes moved lower.
Another sentence had appeared beneath it.
THE 18TH WASN'T YOUR FIRST TIME.
Maria stared at the number.

Something inside her shifted.
Not a memory.
Almost a memory.
A road.
Rain against glass.
Headlights stretching across wet pavement.
A voice shouting her name.
Then-
nothing.
The image disappeared.
Maria dropped the photograph onto the bed.
Her phone vibrated.
She looked down.
UNKNOWN NUMBER
One message.
DON'T TRY TO REMEMBER.
Maria stared at the screen.
A second message appeared.
YOU'LL REMEMBER HIM FIRST.
Her fingers went cold.
"Him?"
She looked toward the bathroom.
The door was still closed.
Her phone vibrated again.
A photograph appeared.
Maria opened it.
Her bedroom.
Her exact bedroom.
Her exact bed.
Her exact position.
The photograph had been taken from the hallway.
Right now.
Maria slowly raised her eyes.
Her bedroom door was open.
The hallway beyond it was empty.
She looked back at the photograph.
Something was different.
At the edge of the frame-
a black sleeve.
And beneath it, barely visible against the darkness-
a hand resting on the doorframe.
Maria looked up again.
Nothing.
The hallway was empty.
Her phone vibrated one final time.
She looked at the screen.
One sentence.
HE REMEMBERS YOU.
Maria didn't move.
For several seconds, neither did the house.
Then, from somewhere beyond her bedroom-
came three quiet knocks.
Knock.
Maria held her breath.
Knock.
She stared at the open doorway.
Knock.
And this time-
something whispered her name.
"Maria."
She knew that voice.
She just couldn't remember where she'd heard it before.