Bring The Heat

1. Bring The Heat

The girl woke up. She felt like she had just woken up for the first time, but she knew this wasn't true. Looking back on it, though, it might have been; she couldn't remember waking up before. She... couldn't remember... anything. This might've made her panic, had she been aware of what memory she had lost. But really, she was just confused, like looking at a blank piece of paper that someone had used, but you didn't know what used to be there.

She sat up slowly and drowsily. Around her was a completely empty apartment, with beige walls, and a soft, cream carpet. There was no smell in the air, no feeling in the room. Rays of sun lit the room, though it wasn't obvious what time of the day it was. The girl had no reaction. She noticed a door open across the room from her. Behind the door, the light was on, and a fan was whirring.

The girl stood up slowly, noticing that she was wearing a pure white t-shirt and pants. She thought this was odd, but couldn't really remember what people typically wore instead. She walked over to the room. It was a bathroom, small, with no toilet paper or towels. It wasn't empty though - there was another identical pile of white clothes on the floor that smelled really bad, and were soaked in sweat. The girl felt a repulsed frown cover her face. The movement of muscles felt strange; like she hadn't stretched them in a long time. She looked over at the mirror.

She saw another girl in the mirror a tall girl, with blonde hair tied up in a messy bun, and except for a moderate scar from the edge of her jaw to her lower cheek, she had a completely blank face, pale as if she was sick. She was wearing the exact same outfit.

'Well. One of us is gonna have to change.' said a thought dashing accross her mind. Both girls smiled. She realised that she hadn't really been thinking this whole time. Consciousness hit her like a wave of warm air, like she was a passenger thrown into the driver's seat. She felt cold. Her legs ached. Her throat was dry. She was hungry. The mirror girl was her.

This last revelation made her smile. She was pretty, at least she thought so. She looked about 16 years old, but her ill, tired face made it hard to tell.

On the mirror also was a post-it note, with 'WREN' scrawled hastily accross it. The girl looked at the post-it note, then at her reflection.

"Wren." she said aloud, with a scratchy but young sounding voice. "Wren. Wren... Wreeeeeeeeen.". She liked how that word felt in her mouth. Wren was her name, she decided.

Wren watched her face in the mirror. She tilted her head left, then right, then down, then up. She closed her eyes, but then realised she couldn't see herself, so she opened them again. She opened her mouth wide, and went, "Aaaaaaah... aaaaaaaaaaaaaah... AAAAAAAAAAAAAAHH...", then clasped her hands to her cheeks. The slap noise made her laugh, then cough. Her throat hurt. She decided to do something about it. Almost instinctively, she picked up the pile of dirty clothes and threw them in the hamper. Wren went to leave the apartment. She didn't feel like tap water, she wanted something sweeter. She couldn't think of what this could be.

There was a bomber jacket hanging on a hook near the door. It was half green, half black, seperated by a zip down the middle, on both sides. There was red and white writing, in a different language, or maybe not language at all. It smelled like chemical deodorant, like a boy's locker room. Wren felt inclined to take it. There was a name tag inside, that said 'Chelsea' in felt tip pen. Wren thought about leaving it, or staying and waiting for this 'Chelsea' person. Maybe he would come back and explain what was going on. Or she, Chelsea didn't sound like a boy's name. Or they. But no, Wren thought, I'll come back  after I get a drink.

In the apartment building's hallway, Wren felt a lot more comfortable; it smelled of something, like an old building. There was plant pots on small tables, but the plants were going brown. This made Wren sad for some reason. She felt her personality recovering as her world expanded. She was... sympathetic... she felt confident, despite her confusion... her thought from earlier was funny. All seemed good so far! Wren continued down the hall, reaching out and letting her fingers brush the plants as she passed by. She went down some stairs, and out of a door, with two men smoking next to it. She liked the smell.

Outside now, Wren found herself in an alleyway. There were newspapers, and bags, and bottles, and lots of things strewn about on the ground. Wren wondered why people didn't put them in the big bins nearby. Had she the time, she might have done it herself. She walked out onto the street, where there were a lot of people, and a lot of cars, and a lot of smells, and a lot of sounds. It was even colder outside. Wren put her hands in the pockets of her jacket, and found two plastic wristbands that had been ripped off, with barcodes and a red lining on both. One seemed slightly burnt. She also found some dirt, and a small white flower. Strange...

But she was still thirsty. Wren walked down the street, and found a small store. She went in, and saw a can that said 'COLA' on it. She grabbed it, inspected it, and went to leave.

"HEY!" someone yelled. Wren turned to look, startled, like a deer in headlights. "You gotta pay for that!". It was a woman behind the counter, who looked angry. Wren remained frozen, feeling other people in the store glaring at her. She was so afraid, her eyes began to well up.

"Wait." said another voice, "I got it.". This voice came from a tall, dark man, dressed in a suit, and with a really weird hairstyle that looked like someone had stuck a steak to the top of his head with three big, brown ballpins. He handed some money to the lady behind the counter, and Wren felt stupid now, remembering that she had to give people money for things.

The woman seemed to disapprove of this act, but the man ignored this, and turned to Wren. "It's ok, you can go now. Pay next time, or at least ask, yeah?" he said, in a voice smooth enough that Wren was no longer paralyzed. She stared for a few more seconds, then decided to leave. She didn't open the can, though. It felt like she wasn't meant to. She also... kinda didn't know how.

Wren walked around for another couple of minutes or so, finding a bench to sit on. She got up again soon after, and returned to the original street. She walked down it the other way, until something caught her eye. A wide, theatre-like building on her right, with a short line of people outside. There were two large signs, on either side of the line, with big bold text saying 'THINK YOU CAN OUTSMART ME? TRY IT FOR A CHANCE AT £1000!' and a picture of a man sitting in a chair, looking smart. That man... he was the man from the store! Wren decided to enter.