Phoenix

"We are who we are because of what we learn and what we remember. Who am I, then, if my memory is impaired?" – Eric Kandel

"I closed my eyes softly and fell in love with the way I remembered you: body, soul, and all." – Christopher Poindexter

I grunted. Once I had come to my senses, I realised that I had been knocked out cold and was lying on the hard cement in an alleyway. "Hello?" I called out. Of course, nobody could hear me, it was probably about three in the morning and this town didn't seem like the partying sort of place.

Where am I? How long have I been here? The more I tried to remember, the more I realised that I knew nothing. Well, remembered nothing anyway. I knew how to breathe and how to tie my shoelaces but I don't remember anything. Except for this name; Sam. That's it.

I looked around me, trying to get a feel for the town. I saw many shops, all closed, but they were odd shops. One was an antiques store which held things from the 18th and 19th centuries. Another was a clothes store which looked as though it had been robbed; broken glass, burnt clothes, a door that wouldn't close. But what intrigued me most was a bar. The bar was out of place. Everything else in the town looked desolate, broken and pretty much dead. But the bar looked new and nothing had been broken, or it had just been fixed.

I stumbled up to the bar a few meters away, I think I had a broken leg. At that point, I didn't care whether a car pulled out and ran me over. In fact, I would probably thank the driver. I was in so much pain that I doubted lasting a few more minutes.

Once I got to the bar, I looked into the glass. There was a group of people huddled in the corner, sitting at a table. Three men. One was old, probably about fifty or sixty. The other two looked in their mid to late thirties.

I saw my reflection in the window. Aside from looking awful, I was a girl, thought so. I was probably about twenty-eight or twenty-nine, I can't remember. I was almost six foot at a guess, and I had long blonde hair which reached my hips. At the moment it was knotted and tangled and had blood stains but I truly believed I would be fine. That was until I saw my face.

I was covered with what looked like third degree burns. They were mainly on my face and the unprotected areas of my arms, neck and hands, only on my left side.

Great start! I couldn't remember who I was, what had happened or how to find this Sam guy. Hell, Sam might even be a she! What if I'm Sam? No, I don't think that fits. What would I have to lose if I walked into that bar? I visibly shrugged before wincing. I think I have a collapsed lung.

I trudged into the bar and as soon as I opened the door all three heads turned to face me.
"Hey, come sit down!" The youngest, yet biggest one called to me. He seemed like he knew me. So, I went over to them.
"Where have you been? We've been worried sick!" The eldest asked.
"I... I don't know." I replied stuttering.
"What do you mean, you don't know?" He asked again.
"I mean, I don't know! I don't know, okay?" I didn't want to let on about my 'disability' just yet.
"Are you okay? What happened to your face?" The youngest asked. I had walked in, my left side facing away, but when I turned to talk to the older one, the youngest saw.
"No I'm not okay and I don't know what happened to my face." I shimmied closer in my chair to him. He seemed gentle, like we knew each other.
"Hey! Sweetheart, you alright? There isn't something else wrong with you? Is there?" The other one asked. I remembered that I didn't like him as much as the other two, but he was nice to me so I would be nice back.

"Sam?" I queried on a whim.
"Yeah?" The youngest answered. So this was Sam. He was taller than I had expected, had long hair too.
"Can I trust you guys?" I felt like a scared little girl, despite my age.
"Yes, of course." Sam said immediately, the other two agreeing.
"I don't remember anything." I said before I passed out.

I woke up on a bed. Judging by the amount of pain I was in, I was very lucky just to pass out. No one else was in the room, and somehow, I had managed to get rid of my clothes. Probably for the best. Burnt and bloody clothes aren't very good for anybody. I was still wearing my underwear which was a blessing. I started blushing when I thought of who had to undress me.

Foolishly, I lent onto my left side. I let out a howl to rock Jupiter. Sam came running in, the younger unnamed one following.
"What happened?" Sam asked, looking from wall to wall, ceiling to floor.
"Sorry. I rolled onto my left." I whimpered. I couldn't move back onto my right and it was god awful!
"Let me help?" Sam asked. I nodded.
"If you need anything, I'll be next door." The unnamed one said before swiftly exiting.

Sam pulled me so I laid on my right side and was siting up.
"Do you want breakfast?"
"Yes please."
"We've got toast or whiskey or scotch?" He shrugged.
"I'll just have some toast and a glass of water please. And if a shower is possible?"
"Yeah, sure. Do you need any help?"
"Just to turn it on, thanks."

Sam turned on the shower and I gingerly stepped in. It was just the right temperature. Maybe... no. It was just fluke. The shower felt nice, and when I needed to wash my hair, there was only a little bit of shampoo and conditioner left.
"SAM?" I called from in the shower.
"Yeah?" He was in my bedroom so he could hear me better I guess.
"Can I use the last of the shampoo and conditioner?"
"It's yours." Surely he didn't mean... Maybe he was just offering it to me.
"Thanks."
"Welcome."

Once I was out of the shower, I grabbed the towel someone had left on the bed for me, and wrapped it around myself. I stepped out, into the kitchen, popping my head around the door. "Hey!"
"Hello." The eldest was the only one in the room.
"Did you guys throw my clothes away?"
"Yeah, they were in rags."
"Do you have any spares?"
"Well, Dean doesn't and mine would be a bit... old-man-ish on you. In the top drawer in your room is Sam's shirts, take one but the jeans won't fit. They're on a supply run now so I'm sure they'll bring you back something to wear."
"Thanks. What are you called?" I could almost see a tear roll down his face.
"I'm Bobby. Bobby Singer. I'm your uncle."
"I'm sorry."
"It's not your fault."
"What's my name?"
"You're Janie Evanson. But you never liked that name. You always wanted to be called Phoenix, you loved fire."
"I wonder how I got these burns then?" He frowned. Moving off topic I said "Janie... no. I still like Phoenix. Will you call me Phoenix?"
"Yeah. Now go get changed, before you catch your death." He wasn't kidding, it was freezing in there.

I traipsed back into the bedroom and found where Sam kept his shirts. I picked what looked like the smallest one but was still massive on me. I put back on my underwear and pulled the shirt on over my head. There was a knock at the door.
"Come in."
"Hey, it's just me." Sam poked his head through the door.
"Sit. I wanna talk to you about some things."
"Is that my shirt?" He didn't sound appalled, quite the opposite actually.
"Yeah. Bobby said I could borrow it. Is this okay?"
"Yes." He sat on the bed and looked at his feet.
"When I woke up, I didn't remember anything, except your name." Sam looked up at me. "Why is that?"
"Umm... I don't know."
"You do know, but if you aren't going to tell me, I'll move on." He looked down again. "Fine. What is going on here?"
"The apocalypse." He whispered plain and simply.
"But I thought you stopped that?" I didn't know how I knew, just that one minute that piece of information wasn't there, then it was.
"We did. It's a different apocalypse."
"How are we all going to die this time?"
"Amnesia." I saw a tear roll down his cheek. Sam got up and walked out the room. I followed and grabbed his arm but he pulled away.

Dean, that's what I thought he was called anyway, walked in with an almost full Johnny Labinsky's Kentucky Whiskey.
"What did you say to Sam?" He sounded pissed, and drunk.
"Why? What's it to you?" It wasn't exactly my fault though. Was it?
"I'm his brother, and I'm worried. He practically never drinks and he's in there with Bobby getting drunk. I just figured that you would be at the centre of this. You are the niece and the fiancé!"
"Wait, what?" Did he just say what I thought he did?
"You're Bobby's niece. I thought he told you." He didn't understand.
"Dean. It is Dean, right?" He nodded. Good. "I'm whose fiancé?"
"Oh... I wasn't meant to... You're Sam's fiancé."
"What?" I froze.
"I'm sorry. It was just there to use against you. I didn't think and I'm so sorry. But you can't leave."
"Why can't I?" I wouldn't because I felt safe with them, but I wanted to know why.
"Because... Because it's not safe out there, with the apocalypse." He sounded more confident as the sentence went on.
"But Sam said I was already infected."
"Yes, but there are more stages of this infection. Once everybody is sober, we'll go through what we have seen. I'll try to tell Sam to keep his head. But, you do realise that there are only two beds in this apartment. One double bed, you and Sam were occupying it before," I failed to see his point. "now only you are. Bobby is sleeping on the other one. Which means that I'm on the only sofa, like I was before, but Sam is on the floor."
"So, you want me to what exactly?"
"Let him stay in your bed?"
"Yeah, okay. I'm effectively the guest here. And we're going to be married. I can be an adult about this. Tell him to bring his stuff in here."
"He is drunk, remember?"
"Yeah. Now bring him in. I'm sure I can deal."
"Alright then."

Dean dragged Sam in.
"He's all yours, sweetheart. I don't envy you. Like I said earlier, once we're all sober, we'll talk more about your situation." He dropped Sam onto the bed and walked out to find Bobby presumably.
"Hey Sammy." I walked over to him. It was almost midnight. I better get to bed. Sam started coughing. "C'mon Sam!" I pulled him into the bathroom and lifted up the toilet seat. One he was on the floor, he started vomiting into the toilet. I pulled back his hair and rubbed his back. I remembered something. I had done this to my brother about fifteen years ago. I wanted to pull away, but I couldn't, Sam needed me. "It's okay Sam. You'll be fine."

We stayed like that for about two hours, until he stopped being sick. "Are you alright now?" I asked him. We had done this before, about half an hour ago and he had said yes, then vomited on his shirt.
"Yes."
"Are you sure?"
"Yes."
"Okay. If you wanna brush your teeth and get changed. I'll get you a glass of water."
"Thanks."

We did exactly that. I brought the glass of water into him and set it on a coaster. Then, I changed into a nightshirt I found in the bottom drawer. It looked as though all of the stuff in the bottom two drawers were mine. They fit perfectly and looked very familiar. I slid into a long black shirt which said 'I need coffee' in white writing.

Sam came in. "Hey." He said. He was still a bit fragile.
"Hey." I said back.
"I take it you found your stuff."
"Yes. I did. Good night Sam." I walked over to him and kissed him on the cheek, then pulled back the covers on the bed and stepped in. I didn't realise I was tired, but I fell to sleep as soon as my head hit the pillow.
"Night." Sam said as he climbed into the bed.

I woke up to the sun blinding me. I had left the curtains open, oops. I felt a warm body behind me. I moved backwards into him.
"Morning." He said.
"Morning." I sighed. I might not remember him, but I felt safe with him. "You think everyone's sober yet?"
"Maybe. You wanna come with me to check?"
"Yeah. One second." We laid there for a few moments before I got up.
"Bobby? Dean?" Sam called into the kitchen. I saw Bobby sitting on a chair, reading, but Dean was out of sight.
"Afternoon." Bobby smirked. It was just after midday. "Dean went downstairs to get some more ammo."
"Okay. When he comes back, call us. We need to have a chat." Sam said to Bobby before leaving the room. I followed him. "You want a shower first? We got more shampoo and conditioner."
"Yeah, thanks."

I shut the bathroom door behind me. I tried not to use too much of the hot water and so I was done quite quickly. Sam stepped in after me and I got changed in the bedroom. I was in my underwear when Dean opened the door. "Hey... sorry. I'll come back." He left again. He looked pretty embarrassed.

Once I had changed, I opened the door and turned to Dean. "Sorry about earlier. I should have knocked." Dean said quickly.
"No, it's fine. It wasn't like I was naked."
"Yeah. So, you wanted to talk?"
"Let's wait until Sam is outta the shower first."
"I'm out!" Sam waltzed into the room and took a seat next to me. "Is Bobby around?"
"Yes. I'm right here." Bobby sat by the door.

I didn't know where to start. I had three men sitting in a kitchen, all who loved me to some degree but I just couldn't seem to remember them. "How did the apocalypse start?" I queried.
"It all started about a year ago, the angels were pissed but wrapped up in their own business. It hit them first. It's like a virus. We don't know how it is transmitted but the symptoms are headaches, truthfulness, then bam! You have amnesia. Once you have it, we don't think there is a way of stopping it. With no memories, the victim is scared and alone. Eventually, after about a month of having the virus, you drop down dead. We think that the virus eats at your brain." Sam explained.
"You're wrong!" A man appeared in the corner. One moment he was there, the next, he wasn't.
"Balthazar?" Dean was appalled. Sam scurried into the opposite corner to grab a weapon and Bobby reached for his gun. "You know about this virus?"
"Yes, of course I do."
"Let me guess, you created it!" Dean taunted.
"Quite the contrary. Your old friend Cassie did." The room went deathly silent.
"Who's Cassie?" I uttered.
"Oh this is magnificent. You caught yourself a live specimen! Well done boys. But let me explain you a thing first." Sam got up and stepped in front of me. "The virus has five stages; stage one: taking only seconds, the virus is transmitted via the purple fluid that leaves you eyes once infected. If touched on another persons skin, the contract the virus. Stage two: this takes from one to three days, small headaches lasting minutes at most develop into hour-long migraines. Stage three: lasting five to nine days, complete and utter truthfulness. Inability to tell even the smallest of lies. Stage four: about one to four weeks, amnesia. Remembering absolutely nothing. And finally stage five: you immediately drop down dead. The whole process takes about a month."
"Wow, you really know your stuff. Now, what do you want?" Dean demanded.
"One little thing, it's what you want too!" Lucifer appeared next to Balthazar.
"I'm not late? Am I?" Lucifer said.
"What? Lucifer! What do you want us to do?" Dean grew more and more anxious.
"Stop the apocalypse." The whole room went quiet. Dead quiet.
"Why?" I croaked out. He turned to me, as if noticing me for the first time, although he already had.
"Because my dear lady, it's very boring. All the angels are dead except Castiel and the two of us, there are a millionth of the amount of monsters left and there is only a thousand humans left on this Earth. It is very boring." Sam was shaking as the angel spoke.
"But, I thought you were bad." I turned to Lucifer.
"No." Lucifer looked as though he was seeing Hell. "My only crime was loving my father too much."
"Do tell." I might have crossed the line with just about every human but Lucifer wasn't a human.
"One day, father had created a new race, humans." He spat the name out like it was filth. "He expected us all to bow to them. But I could see they were flawed. I refused to bow." His eyes grew dark, his shoulders hunched and he started stuttering. "So my father cast me out. I was sent down to Hell because I would not serve a flawed race. Cannibals, murderers, rapists, drunks, adulterers, hypocrites, liars, thieves, prostitutes, child molesters and traitors. I wouldn't bow down to these people. Do you really blame me? Would you submit to them? Didn't think so." Lucifer walked over to Sam. "Long time no see." He placed his hand on Sam's shoulder.
"Get off of me!"
"Hey! You might be Lucifer, but you've manhandled my boy enough." Bobby shouted.
"I... apologise." Lucifer said.
"What?"
"You heard me. Can we stop this apocalypse or not?"

Soon after Lucifer and Balthazar were gone, Sam and Dean got to work on seeing what I knew. Sam didn't want to tie me up, but both Dean and I thought that it might be necessary.
"I'm sorry." Sam was on the verge of tears.
"Don't. Just ask me whatever. I'll tell you what I know." I couldn't make myself feel otherwise I might have cried along with Sam.
"Okay, what do you remember about being infected." Dean started by asking.
"Nothing."
"Then, what is the last thing you remember."
"I remember waking up on the cement and walking over to the bar because it looked out of place."
"Don't lie." Dean said.
"But I'm not-"
"Save it. I want the truth."
"I remember, before I got knocked out, a man in a trench coat telling me that he has big plans for me. Then he touched my forehead. I blacked out from there."
"Alrighty." Dean was overwhelmed.
"How did you know-" Sam started.
"How did I know she was lying? She didn't know she was lying, but I can't just tell. It's a gift. Sam can I talk to you outside?"
"Sure." The two stepped out. I figured they were going to do something I might not like when Sam took Dean's place of asking questions.

"Janie, tell me about when you were fifteen."
"No, I can't remem-" He cut me off.
"You can remember. You just need to focus."
"What do you want?"
"Your darkest feelings."
"They're pretty dark."
"I know. You've told me. But I want you to tell me again. Delve into your memories. I'm right here if you need me. Begin."
"Mommy? Why is dad on the floor?" I started tearing up. "Why? Please tell me. Colt gets to know!" As I got further into the memory, I remembered it as though it were yesterday, despite my amnesia.
"But Colt is seven years older than you. You do as I say! You go up the stairs, into your bedroom and you stay there. Or so help me, you'll be lying dead on the floor!" She wasn't joking. I walked up to my bedroom and once I was in there, I locked the door and pulled out my phone. Speed dial 1. Uncle Bobby.
"Heya idjit. What's up?" He picked up on the second ring.
"It's dad. He's dead. I think mom killed him."
"Where are you?"
"I locked myself in my bedroom."
"Right. Okay. Did she say anything to you?"
"She threatened to kill me. Maybe I'm better off dead anyway."
"No you're not. I'm gonna send someone over now. You remember Rufus? He'll be there soon, he's closer than I am."
"Thanks Uncle Bobby." I hung up just as I heard foot prints coming up the stairs.

"Janie? Ohhh Jaaanieee?" My mom called. She tried the door but it was locked. I had to try and trick her. Lucky for me I had a few tricks up my sleeve.

I pulled something out of my desk drawer, the locked one, and retrieved a school tie. I tied the tie to the light and made a noose. I slipped it around my neck and put my hand to my mouth. I kicked the stool aside.

I could still hear and see everything.

"Janie? Where are-" My mother chanted as she burst the door open. "That little bitch has gone and hanged herself. Hopefully this time I'll work!" Before walking out, she checked my pulse. None there. She smiled to herself.

An hour and a bit later, I heard a bang. It was Rufus. There was a gun going off. Hopefully he killed my mother. Once he was finished, he started calling out for me, just as she did before him.
"Janie? Janie, where are you? It's Rufus! I'm coming in your room!" He turned the door knob and flung the door open. Rufus gasped. He saw me, hanging there. Dead. He felt for my pulse, checked for demon/shifter signs. Nothing worked.

Finally, he sighed. Grabbed his phone from his back pocket and called Uncle Bobby.
"Bobby?"
"What's happened? Did you find Janie?"
"She's dead Bobby."
"What? No she's not."
"She is. She's got no pulse."
"How?" He chocked.
"Hanged herself."
"She's not dead."
"You're in denial."
"No, I mean, she's not dead. She's done this before. In her top drawer, the locked one, in her desk, should be some blue pills and some red pills. Open her mouth."
"What?"
"Open her mouth Rufus!"
"Okay!" He opened my mouth.
"Now, what colour is her tongue? Red or blue?"
"Blue. Very blue."
"In the drawer, reach for the red pill. This will counter-act the blue pill and restore her pulse." Rufus placed the red pill on my tongue. Once it had disintegrated, I was able to breathe normally. "Is she alive?"
"Yeah."
"Thanks Rufus." He hung up.
"Damn kid, you scared me!""

I finished speaking.
"I'm sorry to push Janie, but there's more." Sam said.
"I know. Just give me a second."
"You want me to untie you?" Sam asked me.
"No. It could get rough yet!"
"Are you ready?"
"As I'll ever be."

I dove back into my fifteen year old memories.

"Colt? Where are you going?"
"I'm twenty-two Janie. The only reason I'm here is to look after you. I'm going to a job interview."
"When will you be back?"
"When I'm back!" He stormed out.

I was irritable for the rest of the night. Home alone was not a good way for me to be, especially in this frame of mind. I felt like everyone was out to get me. I needed peace, tranquillity. So, I ran a bath.

I stepped into the bath, it was quite deep because I had gotten the temperature wrong, but that was okay. I fell back into the water, covering my face. I stayed under. I stayed even when my lungs burned and I wanted only to come back up. I didn't want to stay, but my mother's ghost had her hand on my face, pushing me under.
"I hope you die this time." Her words echoed through the water. "You were a mistake. You were never meant to be born! We only wanted Colt!" I struggled under her grip. This only made her grip harder. "You shouldn't have been born! I hate you! You deserve to die!" I forced her hand up and replied.
"I might deserve to die, in fact I do! But, the simple thing is, you're dead and I'm not! Suck it, bitch!" She howled. One after the other, rapidly, cuts appeared all over my skin, everywhere. They all bled. Soon, I was bathing in red liquid and I felt very drowsy. I might... might just rest my eyes for a minute. NO! You have to stay awake! If you sleep, you'll die. You can't let her win! I smiled. "Why are you smiling?" He voice trailed through the bathroom. "I might be on my death bed, but... but, you can't hurt me anymore!"
"How do you figure?"
"Potestatem habeo mortuorum canis, et tu de illis es. Nocere non potest amplius. Numquid voluntatis meæ est?" (I have power over the dead, bitch, and you are one of them. You can not hurt me anymore. Is it my will?)
"Nulla." (No.)
"Quod sic." (Yes.) "Try and hurt me now."
"No! Please! I'm sorry!"
"Too late." I stood from the bath, half dead, wearing a necklace. It was the centre of my power, Bobby didn't want my mother to bother me again. "Leave for good. Or risk my wrath!"
"You are fifteen! What are you going to do to me? Talk back?"
"Comburet indu inferno!" (Burn in Hell!) She set fire and disappeared.

I finished speaking once again.
"I'm sorry. I won't ask again. It was necessary. I know you have a lot more, but we're done for today. Thank you!" Sam said.
"You do have some baggage!" Dean said.
"We all do!" I replied.

As soon as Sam unchained me, I walked out. I went to the bedroom and laid there for hours. Sam came in around eleven. "Did I wake you?"
"No."
"We need to talk Janie."
"What do you want to talk about?" I was a little bit off my nut!
"How you're feeling."
"Let's see Sam! I smiled so that you thought that I was okay. I laughed so that you thought that I wasn't cold and devoid of emotion."
"It's a stupid question, but are you okay?"
"No I'm not okay, I'm destroyed, I'm broken, I'm a mess, I'm missing the most important pieces, I will never be whole, I will never be okay. Do you know how that feels?"
"Not the missing bits but pretty much everything else."
"Sam. Please don't be surprised when one day you can't wake me up."
"Please, don't do this to me!"
"What am I doing to you? You asked to know how I feel!"
"Okay, but don't dump it all on my like you want to impress me!"
"What? You thought that we'd talk about our feelings for a little while, then hug and finally have sex since I lost my memory!"
"No."
"I thought a whole lot more of you than that!"
"Okay! I missed the intimacy! Is that such a crime?"
"No. I'm leaving."
"Where are you going to go?"
"Anywhere is better than here. I'll be gone in a moment." I packed my few belongings and said "Comburet indu inferno!" before leaving.

I walked through one of New York City's homeless population. It was the apocalypse. There were a few sleeping bags but mainly rags, and yet nobody was home. A vampire jumped me, but when I pulled out my flamethrower, the vamp went silent.
"I need you to remember this. Okay? I need you to tell all of your buddies not to mess with the Phoenix!"
"Why should I?"
"Because I'm gonna do this." I stuck the fire to his face and held it there for a few moments. The vampire howled but he daren't ask more questions.
"Who am I?" I asked him.
"I don-"
"WHO AM I?" I stuck the fire back in his face, on the unburnt side.
"The Phoenix! Please, don't hurt me! I'll tell everybody I can find okay?"
"EVERYBODY! Now, run along!"

I made sure not to take sleeping bags with purple goo on them. Don't want to be worse off than I am. That night, the man came to me again. The one with the trench coat.
"Hello, Janie."
"It's Phoenix."
"I apologise. Hello Phoenix."
"What do they call you?"
"I have many names, but you would know me by Cassie. Call me Castiel."
"Cassie?"
"I believe two of my brothers came to speak with you earlier. How are they?"
"Fine. Were you or were you not the one who started this apocalypse?"
"I was."
"And you said you had big plans for me?"
"Have. I still do."
"Then why take my memories?"
"I needed you away from the Winchesters. You wouldn't leave if you remembered. I will restore your memories now."
"No!"
"I'm sorry, I wasn't asking! You fight much better when you remember about your teenage years!"
"I won't let you put them back!"
"You have no choice!"
"Right, because free will is just an illusion. I forgot!" I was being incredibly sarcastic.
"Janie?" Sam appeared from around the corner, Balthazar, Lucifer and Dean in tow.
"Not now Sam! We'll talk later."
"Just get your memories back. Please." He begged.
"Do as the boy says Janie." Castiel growled.
"It's Phoenix!" I shouted before sticking an angel blade in him. He started bleeding heavily.
"Brothers?"
"No, Castiel. You have to restore her memories and stop the apocalypse or I'll stab you myself." Lucifer stepped forward.
"Please, Balthazar?" He was really on death row.
"Listen Castiel. I've upped my powers just a bit, for you. You do what Lucifer said now. Or once you're dead, I make you do it anyway." I was feeling brave tonight.
"I guess I have no choice but to comply. Dean?"
"No, Cas. I don't want to look at you right now."
"I'm sorry, Dean. For everything. Can't you forgive me?"
"No." Dean croaked before leaving to get into his Impala.
"Fine." Castiel snapped his fingers and my memory came flooding back. I screamed and dropped to the floor.
"Janie?" Sam rushed over to me. "Are you okay?"
"I remember you. And I'm so sorry."

The first time Sam and I met was at the library. He was researching about Ghouls, and so was I. We were on the same case. I walked over to him and said "Not everyone is a monster, Sam." His bag read Sam.

"I'm so so sorry, but not everyone is a monster, Sam. You're not." The pain was too much to bear. I winced.
"We need to get you to a hos-" I didn't hear anymore. The world faded to black and I thought "I can't die this way. I can't. I have so much to tell Sam." But I couldn't hang on.

Bright light shone into my eyes. I was in a Hospital. "Is this how it feels to be dead?" I asked. But it sounded more like "Ss iss ooww t eel o b dd?"
Sam chuckled from the corner. More of relief than anything else.
"Are you feeling better?"
"Yessss, yre givn me nuff morfn o fee gret!" (Yes they're giving me enough morphine to feel great!)
"You sound positive at least. I bought you something." Sam handed me a carrier bag. My hands wouldn't move because of the severe burns I acquired somehow. He realised and pulled out a book from the bag. It was a collection of some of H.P. Lovecraft's works. I smiled at him.
"I'll read to you." He sat back in the chair next to my bed and started. "H.P. Lovecraft Great Tales of Horror. The Call of Cthulhu. Chapter 1, the Horror in Clay. The most merciful thing in the world, I think, is the inability of the human mind to correlate all its contents." As he got deeper into the story, I got more and more comfortable. I let my imagination go and as it flowed I thought the oddest of things. "What if they couldn't get me back? What if I'm dead, still lying on the ground back in the camp? What if this is my Heaven?" I stopped Sam once he had gotten a few pages in and said this. He turned to me and replied
"You are dead. I'm sorry. I tried to make you comfortable. I'm sorry."

(A/N Don't forget to leave a review, I'm sorry about the latin. I used Google Translate, I'm learning though!)