The Smell of The River

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AN: Joseph Murphy pictured above

"So, you have more questions? What if I can't remember anything at all?" Calla's voice dropped from slightly confident to nearly mousey in a matter of seconds while she asked Charlie, Ricky, and Joe what would happen next. The three of them shared a look that told each other they had no idea what was going to happen if that were the case. 

"We just need to know what you remember last if you can't remember anything at all, then we'll just start from square one." Charlie laid it on as lightly as possible, he wasn't a doctor or anything and their med student brother wasn't here at the moment, but he didn't want to upset her in any way. 

The three of them could tell she was nervous, if they were in her shoes they would be just as bad, if not worse. Seeing her pick at her fingers and tuck her hair behind her ears every few seconds, all these were signs of her not being ready to remember. 

"Close your eyes and try to think. Anything would help, and using your sense of smell would help too." Joe spoke up this time, she hadn't spoken to him or Ricky as much as Charlie but she still likes them. Taking in a deep breath, she readied herself for the possible things she would see behind the lids of her eyes. If the man and woman with dark hair made a return, she would have to tell them more about it. She wasn't sure if she was seeing her parents or if it was the people that did this to her, but whoever they are, she just wished to remember. 

Her eyes slowly closed, lingering on the three guys in front of her and letting the light of the lamp on the table near the fort lull her into as deep of thought as she could get. She could practically hear her heart beating in her ears as she tried to think about what happened before they found her. Before she woke up in the fort surrounded by sheets and curious eyes. Before the lavender bath and the bruises on her skin. Then it slowly started to come together...

The sound of rushing water suddenly filled her ears. She could smell moss and damp leaves, her heart was no longer beating softly in her chest, but hammering in her ears as it pushed her toward something. She couldn't see where she was or hear anything around her but the smell of the river was undeniable. 

"I can smell the river, the wet leaves and moss on the rocks and shore. I can hear my heart beating out of my chest." She began to relay what she was hearing and smelling, but she didn't feel like it was enough. She tried to concentrate harder to get something other than smell or a flash of darkness around her but nothing happened. 

"There's nothing else, I'm sorry," her voice cracked and she pulled her knees up to her chest to bury her face into her hands and knees. She didn't hold back when her body shook with sobs of pain and thoughts of failure. When a hand reached out to her she jumped a bit but looked up through tear-filled eyes at Charlie who looked as sad as she felt. 

"Don't hurt yourself trying to remember, none of us had a lot of hope for it. You took quite a spell in that water but hey, you ended up here, that's gotta mean something!" He tried to cheer her up and it started to work, a smile tugged at her mouth. 

"What if I made some popcorn and we watched a movie?" Joe piped up and Ricky nodded along with his idea. Charlie helped Calla up from the floor and moved a few of the sheets around the fort so she wouldn't trip. "We'll have to go in the other living room if that's okay," Charlie asked her just to make sure she was still feeling safe and wouldn't run away or try and hide. He wasn't sure what to expect with someone who went through all the shit she's gone through, and they don't even know everything that happened to her. 

"It sounds like fun, I'm not sure what movies I like but we can watch a bunch and find out, yeah?" Her mood turned around making Charlie feel more at ease knowing they didn't scar her for trying to remember what happened to her. Joe ran ahead and got the tv and stuff ready while Ricky slapped a bag of popcorn together in the microwave. He set it for three minutes and watched it turn in under the light. He hated burnt popcorn and had a habit of watching it until he couldn't hear any more kernels pop. 

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