Forgotten Memories (I can't remember anything...)

Forgotten Memories. . . Chapter 1

Chapter 1

Shit, someone was following me. I could feel the person's presence behind me. Making sure I didn't falter in a step or show any signs that I knew he/she was there, I quickly took my compact out of my bag and pretended to check my makeup. I tilted the mirror slightly, and saw him. This man didn't look particularly threatening, just jeans, a white t-shirt, and a baseball cap.

What the fuck did this guy want? There was an alley ahead about 20 feet. I continued at my lazy pace. The guy was still following me. I got to the alley and walked in. The pocket on the inside of my black denim jacket always had a gun in it when I went out, and I was a good shot. If the guy followed me in here, I'd take it out.

Sure enough, the guy walked right in after me. I took the gun out and shut the safety off. "Hello, douche bag. Who the fuck are you and what do you want?"

He looked stunned. "Angela?!"

I gave him a confused look. "Who the fuck's that?"

"Angel, it's me. Scott." He had a hurt look on his face.

"I honestly don't have any idea who you are. And my name is Emilia."

"You're lying. I know it's you, I can tell. Where the hell have you been the past five years?"

Five years. Five years ago, I woke up under a tree in a park, wearing a black t-shirt and jeans, with no ID. I had no idea who I was, and to this day, I still didn't know. "Listen, I think you have me mistaken." I put the gun back on safety, and put it back in my jacket.

"No, I don't. Angel, why the hell did you leave?! Do you have any idea how crazy your brother is getting?!"

"I am not Angela or Angel or whoever. If you would please stop following me, I'd appreciate it."

"What happened to you? Everybody back home fucking loved you. Why. Did. You. Leave?" He was getting really mad.

"Okay, mister, you have the wrong person. I didn't leave from anywhere and I'd really like to get to work."

"Where do you work? The fucking corner?" That made me mad.

I punched him in the jaw. Not hard enough to break anything, but enough to leave a bruise. "I work at that club, Galactic, as a bartender. If you call me a hooker again, I will personally make it so you can't have kids." With that, I walked away, leaving him staring after me in shock.

What if I did know him from before? When I woke up, I couldn't remember anything about me. I spoke with a slight New York accent, but I woke up in Baltimore. I knew enough things to get me a job and an apartment, but I couldn't remember how I knew them.

I'd read about 50 books on memory loss in the first year. All of them said the same things could cause it. Traumatic experiences, getting hit on the head, Alzheimer's, and some other diseases. Getting hit in the head wasn't likely, because my head was fine when I woke up. I was too young for Alzheimer's and I had different symptoms anyway. If I had a disease that caused it, I'd probably be dead by now.

That left traumatic experiences. If something happened to me that caused me to lose 17 years worth of memories, did I want to know what happened? It would probably be smart not to try to find out.

But curiosity was always my weakness.

Scott's POV

I stared after her in shock. Her twin brother, Adrian, taught her to punch like that. Just hard enough to bruise. I ran to my apartment to find a picture of us or something to convince her.