Forget Me Not

Chapter 3

I sat in silence as the man in front of me named Ryan seemed to have gotten closer to me. He wasn't the Ryan that was last in my room. No, he was scarier, darker, more.. How do you say it? Menacing? He was just.. Dark. Maybe even full of hate and rage. I took a deep breath as he took a seat beside me. My hands were shaking and the room seemed suddenly more cold. I couldn't find the nurse button, nor could I find the light switch in the room. Hearing the hard breathe beside me, I winced. I finally couldn't move anymore and became frozen with fear. This wasn't a feeling I was used to, or maybe I was? I don't know, but I didn't like it. I took a deep breath in. Calming myself down a bit before looking over at him, I sat up slowly and got up. Instantly falling to the ground and letting a scream out. I heard someone crash through the door. The person was instantly next to me, pulling me off of the ground and holding me up. I started to fight her off.

"Megan!" She screamed a bit, shaking me. "Megan! Relax!"

She pushed me down on the bed. My eyes soon focused on the room. I looked around quickly and took a deep breath in.

"Where is he?!" I asked. I soon realized my hands were gripping her skin harshly, my nails digging into her pale skin.

"Where's who?" She asked.

"Ryan, where'd he go?"

"Megan, there's been no one in here except me. You've been asleep. Ryan's in Tallahassee with his band." Her eyebrows slightly creased together as her hand softly rubbed my back. I took a gasping breath in. Quickly shaking my head. "You've been dreaming, babe."

"It wasn't that Ryan.." I sat up shakily. I looked at the girl, Liz? I believe that was her name. She came to see me everyday. She brought flowers all the time, along with chocolate and some other goodies and we'd stay up all night, or until I passed out, watching movies or testing my damn memory. She looked back at me.

"What do you mean?" She asked quietly.

"He was dark.. He wasnt anything like the photo you showed me. He looked mean and just.. So angry. His face was black and his hands were as cold as ice. . When he touched me, it wasnt loving. Or even caring. It hurt.. It was like a stinging pain. His voice was raspy, rough and a bit harsh. It wasnt friendly. HE wasnt friendly."

"Did he touch you?"

"My legs.."

"Let me see."

"If I was dreaming, there'll be nothing there."

"Megan," she said more sternly. "Let me see."

I shook my head. My heart started beating out of control as Liz stared into my eyes. I knew my eyes were unsure, maybe even unfocused but I never realized how badly I could unfocus them. I looked down at my fingers. My thumbs were twiddling and my hair soon fell out from behind my ear. Hiccuping, I slowly sat up more. My trembling hands took a piece of the fabric and pulled it up gently. Looking upon my leg, I noticed a darker shade than it's normal paleness. I didn't see white. Instead, I saw a purple mark mixed with a blue and black shading. Liz let out a loud gasp. Her hands covered her mouth instantly. She ran over to her purple studded purse, picked it up and pulled her phone out. She dialed a number quickly, placing the dialler up to her ear.

"Cam?" Her voice was panicked as she paced back and fourth in my room. Though, I didn't know exactly what she was doing or who this Cam person was, but I continued to watch in silence. The pain in my leg now showing it's true colors, but I ignored it. My mind was racing with so many questions. Who is this Ryan? Why is he trying to hurt me? Am I engaged to him? Why isn't he like the Ryan I saw in the picture?

I took a deep breath in, tuning back into Liz's phone conversation as my nerves tried to settle themselves.

"Cameron! No, listen to me. She's hurt. Who? I don't know! She said it was Ryan. Where the hell is he? He's with you, isn't he?" She looked at me. Sighing quieting, she placed a kiss on my forehead before walking out of the room and out of hearing range. I leaned back into the bed. What the hell is going on? The Ryan in the photo looked nothing of the Ryan that was in my, well, room last night. I picked the picture back up off the nightstand and held it close to my chest. Who ever this Ryan was, whatever his purpose was, he isn't the Ryan in this picture. I know that for a fact.