The Dark Stranger

Lost memories

"The Dark Stranger" © VeGirl 2014

I don't want to believe any of this weird stuff Vincent is telling me, but the evidence seems to be piling up. The vivid dream-sequences seem to be parts of my life that I no longer have any recollection off, but how could that be true?

Do I want it to be true?

I spend my weekend at my mom and dad's place just north of Phoenix. My mother is ecstatic to see me, but she does her best to prod me for info about my lovelife.

"There's nothing to tell, mom," I sigh.

My mom snickers. "My friend Irene has a son that..."

"Whoa stop it right there," I interject. "I am not here to get fixed up!"

"Really? This guy is really cute..." she pushes.

"Mom!" I laugh with her by then. "Please don't do this. I actually have two guys, no wait, Eddie's cousin Trey is on my case as well, so I have my options open," I brag. "I really don't need any more guys fighting for my virtue," I add with a smug face.

"Protective?" she teases.

"Two of them are very protective, and one in particular." I shrug my eyebrows. "He's just..."

"A little too sweet? Ugly? What?" she laughs. "You have to give me something," mom laugh.

"Oh he is not ugly; he is drop dead gorgeous," I insist with a chuckle. "I mean here I am, several miles away, but still sitting here thinking about him." I laugh and shake my head. "I can't wait to get home and see him."

The weekend passes by so excruciatingly slow, even if I get to meet two of my old friends who are both newlywed and pregnant. I can't tell them how glad I am that my own feared pregnancy was fake; nor that I date a vampire. We have absolutely nothing in common anymore no matter how good friends we were in school. They are even judgmental about my life and my line of business, even if they are struggling housewives.

That is just sad!

After lunch that Sunday I take my car and even break the speed limits, since I can't get home fast enough.

I long to meet my intoxicating, obsessive neighbor and hopefully get some answers from him, but he is still absent. I haven't seen the slightest trace of him since the party where he was next to me when another fit came over me.

He spoke of memories and I want explanations, I can't live like this anymore, but he is not here to explain.

* * *

"Have you both dyed and curled that hair of yours? Didn't anybody warn you that it's bad for your hair?" Eddie asks on Monday when I turn up at work.

"What do you mean curled?" My hand grips a handful of hair, and panic raises when I can see it curl at the bottom. "What the hell is going on?" I yell and rush once again to the restroom to find my usually straight hair softly curled, kind of the hairdo I have been jealous of Eddie for years.

I stand there, staring at my reflection with my mouth hanging open, when my friend walks up really curious behind me. Her face reflects back through the mirror. "Are you telling me that your hair got dyed and curled by itself?"

I turn and watch my friend with huge eyes. "I haven't done anything to it." I fling my hands out. "How can something like this happen?"

"Sam, it doesn't," my friend says firmly but with a hinge of humor in her voice.

I just glare at her and walk back to my baking-station after having put my hair up in a messy bun in the nape of my neck. The rest of the day I spend giving my friends murderous glares whenever I catch them glancing at me.