Chapter One.
The first flash is simple- a classroom, my freshman year of high school, a tall, tanned junior walks into the wrong class. Cute, maybe. I can’t remember his face well enough to tell you myself.
And that’s it. Like I said, flashes. I’ve only had two so far. I don’t know why I’m being kept in this blank room. The walls are gray, and cold, gray tiles cover the floor. My clothes, also gray. I have a scratchy wool sweater and thin, sheet like pants. Gray, heavy boots encase my feet, preventing me from moving more than a few feet.
There’s a mattress in the corner, filmy gray sheets spread across it. That’s about it for decoration. The only thing that verifies that time is actually passing is when the slot in the wall opens and gloved hands push through mush. Gray mush. Everything is gray.
My skin is pale and sickly, at least the parts of it I can see. I cannot see my face, but only my gnarled, blonde hair. A few freckles dot my arms, but I don’t like to lift my sleeves to see them. Odd, purple scars dash up and down my legs and arms. My flashes don’t show what it’s from. Not yet.
Light comes off in sputters from the dull fixture on the ceiling. They keep them on constantly. I do not know “they” are, or if there’s even more than one. Maybe it’s a singular female. Maybe it’s him. I don’t know any names, any people, only me. My name is only jumbled letters. I hear it spoken in my flashes but I can never remember it after.
BINABASA MO ANG
Flashes
Teen FictionThe days in the past come in flashes. And the present days are non-existent. I’ve no idea of time, no clocks, no windows, nothing. I fear that the future will never come if I can’t remember more than flashes.
