Amnesia

XVI.

Remy sat up, but the feeling made her gasp.

"What the hell?" she asked, but the only noise that came from her mouth was a whispering breath. Her body felt light as a feather. The boys continued speaking around her as if nothing had happened.

Confused, she turned around and whisper-screamed as she saw herself. It was her, pale skin, dark under-eye circles dark as bruises, and long hair that looked tangled, ratty, and parched. Her eyes were closed, and Jimin was kneeling next to her head. Remy - the sentient, awake Remy that could take in what was happening around her - smiled when she saw Jimin gently running his fingertips over her forehead, not taking part in the conversation the eldest four boys were having. Jeongguk wasn't talking either. He and Taehyung were sitting on the couch that was indeed still bloody.

Jeongguk looked worse than ever. His eyes were dark, and Taehyung was rubbing a hand up and down the younger boy's back in a way that was definitely meant to be soothing but had little effect.

"Weird," she said.

"Lacie?" a quiet, unfamiliar voice wormed its way into the room. She turned to look at the boys. There was no change in their reactions. She was the only one who had heard.

"Lacieeee," the voice sing-songed.

Whatever spirit-body Remy was in acted before she could think. Remy balanced herself onto her feet and hobbled in the direction of the voice. She followed it to the bottom of the staircase and looked up to the top of the stairs. It was dark up there

"Lace, come on," the voice urged from the top of the stairs. "I know you can walk faster than that."

This person wasn't talking to her. This person couldn't be talking to her. Still, she found herself replying as she walked up the first few steps. "My name isn't Lacie. Or Lace." Her voice still came out whisper-quiet, just a murmur.

The voice laughed. "Lacie, come on!" It was different this time. It sounded like a young boy laughing while he played.

The old wood stairs creaked as Remy climbed up them, even though she was sure she weighed nothing. The playroom looked the same as it had before, old dolls still staring blankly at the ceiling or at the dusty floor.

"Lacie," the boy's voice urged her. He sounded less playful this time, and Remy knew he was in the hallway with the empty bedrooms and the bathroom with a blood-soaked dress. "You're taking a really long time to find me. I thought you were the best at hide-n-seek!"

"You really can't take a hint, can you?" she panted. Walking in this strange spirit form was exhausting her, like she was running miles and miles. It felt like she was pulling a huge weight behind her that was trying to pull her backward. But she had to keep going. She couldn't explain why she knew that, she just knew she needed to find whoever or whatever was speaking.

"Somebody's feeling cranky today," The voice was older now, probably a teenager.

Remy stopped walking. Her legs felt like they were going to give out on her. "You can hear me?"

There was no response, and Remy struggled to make her way to the hallway. There was a figure at the end of the corridor, looking out the window where the branch still tapped against the glass. It was so dark. So dark that she couldn't really make out any fine details about the boy. Remy could tell it was a boy from his stature, but all she could see was a silhouette.

The figure turned and stared back at Remy.

"Lacie." The voice was coming from the figure.

A lighter, the same one that Yoongi had found for the syringe, flickered to life in his hand, and Remy found herself looking at the face of her former best friend. The first real friend she had ever had, the first friend she had thought she would spend the rest of her life happy because of.