Back to you

Oblivion

Two sets of footsteps, two voices and being lifted from the ground is the last thing I remember before it all fades to black.

. . .

When I come to my senses I make note of two things right away. I don't know where I am, and I think I swallowed fire. I attempt to sit up only to fall right back down as I feel a white hot pain rip through my left side and right shoulder. "Don't move. It'll only make it worse." I hear from behind me. I groan at feeling the pounding in my skull and the dull ache pretty much everywhere else. "Where the fuck am I?" The words leave my mouth before my brain can register them. A face comes into view, a girl no older than 16. Her hair a chestnut brown accompanied with quite possibly the most crystal blue eyes I've ever seen. Either she didn't hear me, which isn't likely, or she simply chose to ignore my question. "Hurts like a bitch don't it?" she says as she gestures to my side. I don't respond, just go to touch it before she slaps my hand away. "No! Don't touch the stitches." She scolds.

"Stiches?" I find myself asking.

"Yes, stitches." She repeats. "You got shot. Three times. You were also stabbed." At this I nearly choke on air.

"I- what?" I ask, completely confused by the situation.

"Let me start over and explain everything I know." She sighs.

"I was walking home from school, when I saw you stumble from out of the woods and onto the side of the road. At first glance I thought you were drunk, but when I got a closer look I saw that you looked like a human punching bag and there was blood all over the hand you had pressed to your side. When you turned I saw you had a knife sticking out of your right shoulder. Like an actual fucking steak knife. You just straight up pulled it out and then collapsed. I called my brother and we brought you back here and stitched you up." She says.

"Why didn't you take me to a hospital?"

"We were going to, but when I sugguested that, you went ballistic and made us promise, under no circumstances, would we take you to a hospital."

"What about the bullets?"

"What about them?"

"You didn't say anything about removing them and how did you know how to give me stitches?"

"My brother is at med school. He went to remove them, but couldn't find them. He was confused because there weren't any exit wounds. You kept going in and out of consciousness. At one point when you woke up briefly, you said you took them out yourself. You're one crazy bitch. I mean who walks god knows how far with a knife lodged in their shoulder and then pulls it out themselves after removing three bullets? Crazy bitches that's who."

I let out a laugh despite the fact that I was still beyond confused.

"So anyway crazy bitch, you gotta name?" She wonders aloud.

It was then I realized that I couldn't answer that question... because I didn't know. I also realized that I couldn't remember anything. "I don't know."

"What do you mean you don't know?" She asked as she furrowed her eyebrows.

"I don't know." I repeated. "I can't remember."

A few emotions seemed to wash over her face. Two of which being realization and pity. "Memory loss." She states. "I'll go get Carter."

Before I could ask who Carter was she disappeared.

. . .

The girl came back after a few minutes with a boy in tow. He seemed to be in his early twenties, with dark curly hair and skin that denotes he's of mixed race. He had very chizled features and the same blue eyes as the girl. Despite their difference in skin tone, they do look awfully alike. "Hi, my name is Carter. I'm the one who stitched you up." He gave me a warm smile.