Bared

VI

My alarm clock woke me the next morning. I moaned, but sat up and rubbed my eyes. I realized that I had slept in my contacts. Not something I normally do. My alarm was ringing in my ears, so I shut it off. Its pathetic little moan as it silenced slowly sounded like a moan of death. With that happy thought in my head, I climbed out from beneath my gray blankets. Once my bare feet hit the floor, a shiver ran through my entire body.

    I looked towards my bay window, and the shiver ran through me again, this time edged in little spikes of fear. Nothing was out of the ordinary. Just my simple white wood bay window with gray curtains framing it. I watched the brittle oak leaves through the left pane, imagining something dark crouching there. When I blinked, the figure I had imagined was gone.

    I had a creeping suspicion that something wasn’t right. I just couldn’t put my finger on what it was. It was like there was a huge black hole in my memories, and if I reached too far in, I’d get swallowed by something I didn’t know. Or didn’t want to remember. I shook my head, and looked at my alarm clock. It was seven-o’-five on Saturday morning.

    Still trying to figure out what was wrong, I walked down the stairs. The shiver ran through me again as I hit a creaky one, but I ignored it. From the kitchen, I detected the smell of bacon and eggs. My favorite breakfast. For some reason, Whitney always made it on Saturdays. My mouth watered.

    I walked into the kitchen, and sat at the bar. Watching Whitney flip the bacon, I had a fuzzy image of something in my head. No. Not an image. A video.

    I was a little girl, barely five. I watched as blonde Whitney flipped bacon. I asked her why she always made bacon on Saturdays. She smiled at me, and right then I caught the glint of her moss green eyes. She said simply,”Your father loved bacon.” I laughed, and asked her how she knew my father. She smiled sadly at me, and said softly,”You, my little wolf, have your father’s courage. I knew him before he died. I also saw your mother give you up for adoption. That’s why I picked you.” She kissed the top of my head, then piled half the bacon on my plate. I dug in hungrily, already forgetting what she had said.

    I raised my head from the counter. I must have fallen unconscious when the memory passed through me. I looked at Whitney, her pale hand holding a plate for the bacon. I opened my mouth to ask her something, but she said,”Your memory is strong, Lex. I should have fed you more.” Turning towards me, the plate of bacon in her left hand, she handed me a glass of water with her right. “Drink it all. It’ll help you wake up.”

    But before I could put the water to my lips, Whitney put her hand over the rim. “Take away all memories of parents.” I opened my mouth to ask her what that meant, but she tilted the glass up, and I was engulfed in blackness once more.

    I raised my head from the counter. My eyesight was blurry, and my brain felt like it had been microwaved then frozen. I searched for the reason behind this, but my memory was as dark as an abyss. I heard humming, and looked up at Whitney. For some reason, I imagined her with black hair, but I couldn’t come up with a reason why. Eventually, I gave up and started eating the bacon that was before me.

    I was hungrier than I thought. I finished the entire plate of bacon, plus toast, eggs, and a bowl of cereal. Whitney just smiled at me and kept handing me bacon. She joked that if I didn’t stop, Kit and Austin would be angry to not have any bacon. I laughed, but continued to eat until Kit came down from upstairs.

    I got up from my barstool as Kit rounded the corner. I was sitting in his stool, and I was too confused with the black holes in my mind to fight with him. Whitney watched me cross the counter to the living room.

    I dropped onto the couch like my body was suddenly made of rock. My head was mainly filled with blackness, but the edges of it were gray. Imagine a squid squirting ink at you then the ink clearing little by little. Only this little was agonizingly slow. A headache was building behind my eyes, and it sounded like a howl from a wolf.