BLOODLUST

Healing Cuts

Chapter 15: Healing Cuts

It was a dark moonless night and the rain poured endlessly over my head. Barefoot and soaking wet, I ran along the narrow forest road slipping from the thick muddy trail from time to time. I stood up with my white nightgown drenched with the filthy earth and my hair whipping my face as I run.

With every muddy thump of my feet on the ground I leave footprints that would either lead the way of those who needed to kill me or those who wanted to save me. Tears pricked out from my eyes as I think of what might be.

I couldn’t call for help even if my whole being is telling me to. I know this forest, there would be a small village if I run further north. Ravens flew away as I turned right and ran into the woods deviating from the pathway, making an end to the trail.

There would be an old sycamore tree where I can climb through to reach the broken corner of the citadel wall. When I reach the town, I could hide there, I could be safe.

From afar I see the tree, just like how I remember it would look like. An old stout tree with branches huge and strong that doubled the height of its trunk; this tree has brought me so much memories. Memories of him whom I love, memories of him whom I fell for; the reason why I run.

But why? Why? Of all people why him? The thought of his betrayal became the reason for more teardrops to fall.

My alarm rang beside my ears, ending yet another one of the nightmares that I’m having for the past few weeks. Again, I woke up sweating like a fat guy on a treadmill. Checking my phone, I saw Kathy’s reminder of a party we’re attending tonight and that she’s picking me up to go shopping.

Shopping. I love how that sounds. I bet buying lots of stuff would be great because honestly, the clothes on my closet must be my mom’s when she was 12. No one in my school wears red and blue polka dot dresses, thigh high cowgirl boots and high waist bell bottom leather pants.

One of the perks of having amnesia is that everything seems to be extra interesting. Even though I tend to recall a few fragments, I still couldn’t put and two together. Kathy dragged me to a doctor last week when I the stomach ache that I never told my mom. The doctor said it was just ulcer he told me to eat more and gave me meds, he was more curious about my amnesia. He kept asking me about what I remember and I told him everything from the places to the faces but he seems new to a case like mine.

But then he said something that’s quite hard to believe. He said my dreams are memories that are unlocked when my consciousness is down.

Does it mean that my dreams of blood spilled on floors, bodies piled to burn and running for help in the rain are real? I didn’t let it bother me, but like a worm eating an apple, it slowly tortures me in the back of my head. I’m starting to wonder why I lost my memory. Was it really just a car crash? Or is it something else entirely.

The honk of Kathy’s car brought me back to sanity. I opened my window and saw her flashy black car. She waved at me and gestured for me to come and hurry.

“Five minutes!” I yelled and went in to have a quick shower I put on a high waist shorts, shirt and slipped into a comfortable pair of converse to match my black and white top.

“Sorry, I just woke up when you arrived.” I told Kathy as I opened the car door.

“It’s fine, get in.” She said as I got in. But before I was able to close the door, Aunt Margaret came running, handing me my bag.

“Could you be more forgetful? Have fun little ladies.” She waved us goodbye and we did so too, but before Kathy even started the car, she ran inside like a cat afraid of the rain.