Don't Forget Me

1

Quite honestly, I don't even know where to start. I guess I should start with the fact that I died. To be pretentious, in Shakespeare's words, I was dead as a doornail, not breathing, no heart beat. But somehow I'm here now, and I'm painfully alive. I'm writing this after all.

I thought I'd give up writing after everything that happened. I thought I wouldn't need to anymore. But New York changed everything, and now there's a new threat one that caught us all by surprise. So now more than ever, I need to put my thoughts down on paper. I have to document this time, because who knows what will happen after this.

Everyone will say I was a traitor, that I was the enemy. But this is here to tell you, I wasn't. I never wanted any of this to happen. I know that somehow this is my fault, and you can't even fathom how much that devastates me. But I was always on your side.

Whoever you are, and I think I know who you are, remember this about me: I was never the enemy. I don't care what others have to say about me, they can call me a traitor, they can call me whatever they want. What matters to me is that you know the truth. The whole truth, something not everyone knows. I was never who they thought I was, and I will always fight for what I think is right. That's all any of us can do.

This time I remember exactly when, and where it all started. It started when I woke up for the second time. I don't remember much of walking up the first time, but apparently I was very hostile. I think I might have tried to fight the medical team that was taking care of me. Why? I'm not sure, but I have a feeling it was because they wouldn't shut up. It was for that same reason that I woke up the second time pissed off. There were maybe five people in the room with me the second time I woke. But it felt like there were twenty of them screaming in the room with me. The room was a standard hospital room, maybe a little bigger. I was in a hospital gown, in a hospital bed. There was medical machinery around my bed, although I wasn't connected to any of them anymore. People in scrubs, surrounded me curiously.

"Can you guys be quieter?!" I asked sharply, surprising myself with the sound of my own voice. They looked at me like I was crazy. And in their defense, I probably seemed that way, because none of them had so much as moved a muscle in their mouth. All these loud voices were inside my head. And that confused me, because I thought I heard them talking about my conditions. For the first time in my life I shut my mouth and didn't mention the voices to anyone else again, until I figured out what they were.

Fury was my first visitor. I imagined they called him in as soon as I woke up. I had no idea where I was or what had happened to me.

"Hello, Anna," He greeted walking up next to my bed. His arms were crossed and he looked at me in an observing fashion. He was looking for something, or trying to notice anything different about me.

"What the hell is this? Why won't anyone tell me what happened or more importantly what is happening?"

"Do you remember the GH-325?" He asked me. I brought my hands to my face and rubbed my eyes.

"Jesus Christ, Fury you mean to tell me I was dead?" I mumbled, Fury failed to saying something witty back, so I figured I had hit the nail on the head. The GH-325 serum was extracted from an unknown alien, and it could regenerate cells bringing the dead back to life. Only a few people knew about it.

"Why did you do that?" I asked him almost disappointed.

"The world isn't quite done with you yet." Bullshit.

"How much time has passed?"

"Almost two years." That didn't make sense. The GH-325 serum was supposed to work almost immediately. I was getting more confused, and scared that I was in some kind of alternate dimension or something even more outlandish. The last burning memory I had was of a worm hole in which Aliens flew out of, so a different dimension wasn't out of the question for me.