Foretold Memories

Chapter One

                  

*Prologue*

"Alyssa"

Silence.

"Alyssa wake up"

Shuffling, warm sensation.

"Alyssa come on its morning"

More silence.

"Is she awake yet?"

A new voice, deeper.

Fading footsteps, warm sensation leaving.

"No, maybe we should just leave her until she wakes up."

More voices.

Darkness.

*Present Day*

I open my eyes to a blurry mixture of colours and shapes. I blink a few times and gradually my vision becomes clearer with every shutter. Where am I? I wonder silently. I sit up way to quickly and have to close my eyes as the world tilts and blurs. Now alert of my surroundings I realise I'm sitting on a four-poster bed with white transparent curtains encircling me. I run my fingers through the silk blue and purple sheets that cover me; I revel in the beautiful sensation of its smoothness. I crawl to the end of the bed, open the curtain and stretch my legs to touch the cold timber flooring. Wondering where I am; I stand up, slower this time, to gain a better view of the room. The walls are painted a beautiful shade of ivy green, patches of the wall are darker and more pronounced similar to a stormy sea, while others are fainter, worn, akin to a patch of grass that's missed the rays of the sun. I spy a white desk to my right, within the corner of the wall beside the bed with photos and writing materials meticulously placed. Turning to my left I discover an almost picturesque window seat complete with plump cushions and a blanket. A feeling of loneliness and longing sweep over me in a wave of sour misery. Despite the acrid taste of despair that it leaves on me, the seat pulls at me, calling me to dive into its murky depths. I pad over to the window and sit down; regardless of the promise of sorrow, the warmth of the sun envelops my body in its fiery embrace. I close my eyes and drink in the comfort, sinking into its welcoming life. I snap my eyes open, suddenly aware of the confusion and dread that has been clawing at the back of my mind. What is this place? I try to remember how I ended up here in this room, yet nothing comes to me, my mind seems to be an empty void. I try to remember the little things; I even try to drag at a memory of my name. I contemplate, straining my mind, delving into the darkness to find a sliver of who I am. Sharp pains begin to prick the side of my brain as nothing comes to focus. Beginning to panic I try to remember my age, nothing. My parents, nothing. Where I live, nothing. My school, nothing once again. Oh god. "Who am I?"  Utterly afraid, I run through how I could have become this seemingly vacant shell. Amnesia? Head Trauma? Drugs? Who takes memory altering drugs, or gives them? The last thought fills me with spine shuddering terror. I couldn't have been abducted could I? Footsteps and voices came from outside the door disrupting my thoughts. Fight or flight. I fling myself at the bed choosing flight. I scramble underneath and tuck my legs under my body just as the door opens and a pair of tan feet walk in. Self-preservation is obviously a strong trait, or coward-ness I surmise. Well, I guess we will find out along the road. If I get to live for that long anyway.

"Where'd she go? Dammit, he's going to kill me if I've lost her!" The impulse to suddenly go to this man flows through my body, my fingers begin to twitch in need. I follow the pair of feet with my eyes towards the window seat, something squeaks, like doors. The pair of tanned feet than swing around and storm out of the room, slamming the door behind him. I let out a tiny yelp and jump at the unexpected sound, I slam my head on the bed frame above. "Jesus!" I squirm around trying to find a comfortable position. No way am I leaving form under this bed now. If the man with tanned feet was talking about, whom I'm assuming is his boss, is ready enough to kill his accomplice than no way would he have any qualms about killing me. As I lay under the bed with my newly found headache, questions start piling into my head again. Who am I? What am I doing here? Who are these people? And most of all why do they want me? I try to sift through my memory once again going through the motions of trying to find who I am. Nothing's there, not a single wisp of a memory about anything, let alone myself. Everything is just that, now becoming familiar, vacant void. What if I really have been drugged... and kidnapped. I can't be so special to warrant so much attention to be kidnapped, could I? The man with the tanned feet, he sounds kind, upset but kind. A nagging feeling in the back of my mind tells me that I can trust him, but why? Why should I trust the man who came in here if I can't even trust my own mind? The footsteps and voices sound outside my door again. He's back... I try to silence my breathing and hope to God they can't hear my thrashing heart. I hear two people arguing outside the door, I strain my ears to listen while I try to stop myself from having a heart attack. I don't really want to die a few minutes after waking up, in a sort of new life beginning way.
"I tell you she's gone." Says tanned feet, his voice tinged with distress. Two pairs of feet stride into the room and stand at the base of the bed. The pair of tanned feet that came in earlier and another, new pair. This new pair is also tan, just not as much as the other set. He has a jagged scar that starts from in-between his big and second toe that leads up his ankle and into the unknown as the bed frame obstructs my view. I wonder what he deserved to get that. Maybe from kidnapping innocent girls, like myself? Well, I don't really know if I'm innocent or not... but I can always play innocent right? I smile at my ingenuity, play the unsuspecting blameless girl. They'll eventually relax just enough for me make a run for it, perfect.

"She is not gone she's probably just hiding again, she does this sometimes." Again? My mind tingles with recognition. Where have I heard his voice? My body tenses as my stomach flutters and heat spreads down through my feet and rushes back up my body to settle in a tingling sensation bursting across my back. My body is on fire. He has the most amazing voice. I close my eyes momentarily reveling in the feeling until I realise what he said. I've been awake before? They must drug me over and over again. But why am I attracted to his voice. I frantically shimmy backward on my stomach, trying to get away from them confused about these churning emotions and feelings inside of me. Unexpectedly my feet hit the wall. The light thump smothered the flames licking my skin. I solidify, locking my body in place in shock, hoping to hell they didn't hear it; hoping they don't drag me from under this bed and hurt me. I silently scream at myself for my foolishness. I listen for any signs that they heard me, but all I can hear is their voices arguing in angry whispers. Good, they're too hitched up in their own problems. They won't always be so distracted; you've got to be more careful! I go through my head, trying to place where I've heard the Angel like voice before. Little things came in and out of my head, a bright and sparkling city. Faces of different people, jumbled sentences and words carry through my mind.

I pull out of my thoughts and realise that I can't hear the voices anymore, in fact it was so quiet you could hear a pin drop. I looked up the base of the bed. Oh god, they moved. I start to panic and stare wide eyed at the door, they couldn't have walked out, I would've herd the door close, unless they left it open? I dismiss the idea; kidnappers wouldn't just let their prisoners roam around, would they? I look to my right and there they were, both pairs of feet standing right next to my head facing towards the bed. Have the found me? "She may be inside the house somewhere; can you go look for her?" Says angel voice. "Ah, yeah sure. Hey dude don't worry she'll be here somewhere." Replies the tan one. What kind of kidnappers are they anyway? They actually seem genuinely concerned for me, as if they care. Do they treat me nicely? This room is lovely admit, so could it be a possibility? Or is it all a facade and they treat me like a prisoner of war the moment they discover I'm awake? Tan feet walk out of the room as the guy with the voice of an angel just stands stoic. After what felt like hours of trying to control my heavy breaths, his legs bend into a crouched form, he twists down until I see the half crescent of his face. He locks right onto my quivering body. His eyes...  I was gazing into the most piercing, round green eyes, almost the same shade of a stormy sea. My once heavy breathing disappears entirely in one single moment. His ruggedly handsome face sports a strong jaw line, a slightly upturned nose and a pair of very kissable lips. Yep, it's official; I'm in some deep shit.