Amnesia (Book 1 in The Forgotten Series)

Chapter 3

She brushed a hand across the oak desk as she walked by. The room was fairly decorated with colorful knick knacks in its orderly design, but lacked spirit, as if abandoned. Was this really my room? She opened a drawer and pulled out a small journal. Further examination revealed a small lock. The key could be the answer.

Setting the journal down, she rummaged through the drawers, coming up empty handed. She tried underneath the bed and in her pillow cases next before giving up. Snatching the journal, she sat onto the bed and attempted to open it, which only got a couple inches. She rested it upon its side and peered inside, reading slurred dialect. After a few attempts of reading the dialect, she shut the journal shut and ran a few fingers down the tan cover before playing with the pink ribbon hanging off the lock.

Her nail ran over metal, and upon further examination, found a clip. She unclipped the pink ribbon and held it up, mystified at how small the decoration was. The mirror that hanged over the desk could easily be used from where she was sitting. Her eyes twinkled back at her. I can use this.

She had clipped the ribbon to various position of her shirt before the idea of other places had become appealing. The clip had then been yanked out of the tip of her hair, and fallen out of her hair. She had positioned it a few more times before deciding on leaving it in the top of her head, tilted to the side. She looked into the mirror. The girl in the mirror looked comical in her blue T-shirt and baggy grey yoga pants, the mismatched bow too small for her head. Laughing, she stood, twirling once for the girl. The girl, certainly pleased, bowed with her.

"Dawn what are you doing up there, raising a baby elephant?" The shout came from somewhere downstairs. She froze, looking down, the goofy smile still plastered on her face.

"Sooooorry!" She shouted back, adding a little sing song as she did.

Hiding the journal back in its original spot, she surveyed the room once more, making sure the room was free of secrets. Once she was positive she had checked everywhere possible, she left the room and started clomping down the stairs. Dean peeked up as she came down the stairs. "Where did you get that bow from? It looks ridiculous."

She paused in the middle of the staircase, touching the bow. "I think it looks cute."

He sighed, leaning on the railing. "Dawn it's too small for you."

She put a hand over the bow protectively. "No! It's mine." She stuck out her tongue.

He closed his eyes, comprehending that their was no point in arguing. "Okay!" He huffed. "Fine, keep the bow." Dean turned, muttering under his breath. "Why does she own a bow for little kids?" Doesn't he realize I can hear him?

Grinning, she skipped merrily down, leaping off the second to last step boldly. She broke out into a fit of laughter after landing on her feet, crouching. Dean glanced back from his spot on the couch and shook his head slightly. "Don't do anything stupid." He turned back to his programs.

"I know!" She glared at him. "I'm not an idiot!"

Scanning the room, she tilted her head slightly, looking back towards him. "Where's Nadia?"

"Out." He continued watching television as she hopped over the sofa.

"Where?" She plopped down next to him.

"Didn't say." His attention seemed to be more focused on what was on. Frowning, she glanced around, unamused. He won't play, she's out; Dawn was unsure what to do. Standing up, she walked into the kitchen, an idea formulating. Opening the screen door, she glanced around once more, a simper growing on her face. Sneaking outside, she shut the door quietly behind her and inhaled the fresh air.

The rain made everything fresh and anew, leaving it with a sparkling figure. She walked barefoot through the grass and leaves, her eyes unable to chose what to process. Everything's so interesting, she spun around with her arms raised. Stopping by the tree, she slid down the trunk, catching her breath. The click of a door in the distance caught her attention. Standing up, she took a glimpse at the gate from behind the trunk. She's home already? To her bewilderment, the silhouette was leaving the property, not entering.

"Dean?" She called out to the figure. Stepping out from behind the trunk, she tried getting a closer look. "Dean, is that you?" She kept one hand onto the bole of the tree, leaning away.

The individual turned around, freezing. He was an older man around his late twenties to early thirties with a scar that cut across his left cheek. Other than that he seemed dressy, to his black hat down to his tuxedo shoes. Why's he wearing a suit? She paused, assessing the situation. "Who are you?"

The man split into a grin as he answered. "Let's keep this a secret, alright sweetheart?" A chill went down her spine despite there being no draft. His eyes glanced over to the bow in her hair. "Just wait a little longer and everything will be revealed." He turned around and started on his way.

"Wait!" She cried out, running to the gate. "Who are you?"

The man didn't pause nor look in her direction as he answered. "Just an old friend." She watched him disappear from her sight before gripping the gate. What else has been lost? Lowering her head, she bit her lower lip, lost in thought. Why are these people saying such things?

"I don't understand," her voice became hushed. "Why can't I remember?" She reached up and touched the bow before rubbing the fabric between her fingers. Standing there for a duration of time, she came to no conclusion. A soft sigh entered the atmosphere. Best to sneak back in before someone figures out what happened. She straightened, slinking back into the house.

Pulling out a water bottle from the fridge, she twisted off the cap and took a few large gulps. Better than nothing; she tossed the plastic bottle into the air. The bottle landed with a thud, the water drizzling over her. Picking up the bottle, she glided across the slippery tile and threw it out.

Looking down, she shrugged and found the paper towels, attempting to clean up the mess. Upon finishing, she went to hide in her room. Now what; she shut the door behind her and glanced around the room once more. Further examination of the contents of the drawers revealed a variety of cosmetics, hair accessories, and a assortment of souvenirs. Nothing in here; she shut the drawer and started looking through her clothes.

Going through five pairs of outfits, she twirled in front of the mirror and winked. The blue skinny jeans seemed to match the red tank top that was partially exposed by a black jacket. She clipped the bow back to her hair as a finishing touch. Somewhere downstairs, she heard a door open and close, a conversation between two familiar voices starting.

Grabbing her boots by the door, she slipped them on and pulled them up. Opening the door, she ran, thumping down the stairs. She caught their attentions, as they turned to face her. Only one had a smile etched on there face from the whole scene. She snatched her roommates hand. "Can we go out?" Dean glanced over at her.

"Yeah, we can go out." Dawn returned her smile. Was this just like the older days?