Warning! This story contains self harm, suicidal thoughts, sexual situations and some language
Word count: 3,047
Chapter 1
"Papercut"
...
Have you ever had something or someone close to you?
...
A small family of two parents and a daughter laughed heartily in the car as they made their way down the highway. A green sign whisped past from above, and said in big white letters, "Mission City."
"His face was bug-eyed, and mouth hung open," the man driving chuckled, "That race was my favorite."
"What year was it, Dad?" The girl in the back asked, her green eyes meeting with his brown, almost black ones, in the rear view mirror.
"Summer of '92. A couple days after you were born."
He smiled brightly at his daughter, the father always looked forward to seeing her after every race he finished. He always missed her curly, wild brown hair, her mischievous and awkward green eyes. Even the jovial smile that was always plastered on her face that he seems to never grow tired of.
...
That you didn't know who you'd be or what you'd do if they weren't there?
...
The blue sedan, a Toyota Camry, continued down the road, weaving through other cars strategically. The rumble of the engine increased as they sped through and onto the roads of Mission City, their destination.
Minutes after, small talk ending, the Camry came to a slow stop in a parking lot and the family climbed out. A man of a sturdy build opened the driver's door, turned and pulled the handle open for his daughter to climb out of the backseat, she accepted gratefully and followed her mother towards the building.
...
Have you ever lost that someone or something?
...
A whistling noise resounded through the city and the family looked up, finding a jet fly past with the deep rumble of its engine. Missiles were fired from it and they hit near a propped up... Furby truck, was it?
And near that truck, now demolished within a mere second, were robots. Giant robots. From the girl's view, she could only see two; a short, stocky, muscled black one and a leaner yellow one. Her heart skipped a beat and her breath hitched. The girl's eyes didn't look away from the two, even as their blue eyes met hers for a split second.
Robots.
A boy was shouting at the yellow one, who was struggling on the ground. She noticed his legs were gone from the knee down. The teenager pushed a grey sports car out of the way, and it complied. There wasn't a driver in it. This kid have super strength or something?
Another explosion made its way through the mayhem and the girl threw herself away from the too-close blast. Her feet picked her up and raced over to the boy, who looked all too familiar to her. He turned to her, and his green eyes widened, "Ree," he breathed out.
"Sam," The girl raced forward and Sam captured her in his arms, he placed his chin on her shoulder and tucked his face against her ear. She pulled back and glanced at the Pontiac Solstice and the desperate yellow robot, then looked to the brown haired boy, who she knew as her identical cousin, "Sam, what is going on?"
Her eyes scanned the area, and she realized her parents weren't anywhere in sight. Ree, the girl, began to run back to her original position, but was stopped by something grey and metal looping around her waist. She looked down and tried to wiggle out of the finger of the robot. Her panicked eyes scanned the building they were going into. Rubble. Not even their sedan stood.
Her small frame collapsed onto the asphalt as she realized that the building was demolished, most likely along with her parents. Ree stared at the wreckage that she was almost in. The girl struggled out of the grip that still held her form that fell onto the ground.
She bent over and let out a heavy sob.
...
And it left you physically and emotionally broken?
...
Ree stopped struggling and let herself become pulled away by the grey robot. She ignored the warm liquid trailing down her cheeks, both blood and tears. Her hand tentatively went up to touch her temple, and it brought stinging pain. Sighing, she realized it was an open gash.
The grey robot pulled her away, mumbling to her, "C'mon, we gotta get ya outta here."
He, voice sounding male, released her and she followed along with his long strides, settling for a fast jog to stay right on his heel. People rushed past and explosions were heard from afar.
This was a war zone.
The grey robot gestured for her to stay put, and she complied. He stalked up to the side of the building before lunging back and pulling out a shield, protecting himelf from whatever harm the much, much larger robot that jumped out will cause.
His evil red eyes scanned ominously over the little area, housing the grey robot and a few fleeing humans. Ree was frozen in place, and stiffened as the large robot connected his gaze with hers. His attention was turned back to the grey robot, and he activated a gun, then open fired and blasted him away.
The grey robot was relentless; he picked himself up and lunged at the robot, who had turned into an alien jet and flew off with the smaller robot in his grasp.
Ree raced to find where he had flown and found them, two blocks over, on top of a building.
"Come here, cretin."
The larger robot grabbed the smaller one, who began shooting him, which did little to no damage, "You wanna piece of me? You want a piece!"
His angry shouts were cut off as the large robot cut him off, grabbing him by the left arm and right leg, "No! I want," the smaller one began to cry out in pain, "Tw-"
...
But what if you didn't remember them?
...
"Hey, you tin can!" Ree shouted as loud as she could, cupping her hands over her mouth to project her voice. It successfully gained the red-eyed one his attention.
The grey one began struggling as the large one moved towards her in interest, "No! Leave her alone!" His blue eyes met her green ones, urgency was laced in with his angry voice, "Lil' lady, RUN!"
And she did, as fast as her short legs would carry her away from the large robot, who had begun to chase her down, abandoning the small robot. But before throwing him away, the red-eyed robot ripped the grey one in half like he was nothing. Ree's eyed widened and she tried to run faster.
He just killed that robot! The red-eyed being snarled from behind her, "No one insults me and gets away with it!"
...
They were so close, yet so far.
...
He swung his hand and his claws struck Ree's back, not only ripping her coral shirt, but her skin as well. Blood poured out of the deep gashes, pain numbed by the adrenaline coursing in her veins.
Her feet continued to pound on the crushed asphalt, ignoring how louder, heavier and closer the robot's steps were becoming. Ree clutched her chest to stop the painful beating of her heart. A cry slipped out of her mouth when a claw wrapped around her ankle and tripped her. Her body curled and slammed into the ground, head roughly hitting the asphalt.
Ignoring her slightly blurred vision, Ree turned onto her back and braced herself for the pain the giant robot was about to cast upon her.
"Megatron!"
Said robot turned his head in response and grinned, bittersweetly pleased to see whoever it was. He turned away and bellowed, "Prime!"
With that, he shifted and the jet charged towards a red and blue robot.
Ree grasped at her chest, her breathing was quick and it felt like someone was slamming a hammer to her head. Her pulsing was pounding in her deaf ears and rang inside her head.
She was almost killed!
...
They slipped out of your grasp.
...
Exhausted, she collapsed onto her back and stared up at the bright sky, watching jets fly overhead.
Countless minutes passed of staring blankly at the blue sky. A figure blocked the sun and hovered over her, concern etched over his visage. Blue eyes scanned over her and frowned at the sight of blood pooling under the girl. She coughed, and saw blood fly out of her mouth and onto the ground.
"Thank you, for trying to save him," he nodded and scooped her up into his fluorescent yellow hands. She caught sight of the burly black robot from earlier picking up the two pieces of the grey one.
Caring less where she was going, Ree allowed the darkness foreshadowing her vision to take over.
...
And I lost them.
...
~ o Castle of Shards o ~
...
...
...
...
"Wake up."
...
"C'mon, wake up."
...
"I need you to wake up."
...
"Wake up!"
Her eyes flew open and studied the ceiling for a few moments before groggily turning her head to look around the room. It had light blue walls, white tiled floor checkered with tan. Then there were gadgets and counters lining the wall and a drawn back curtain.
Ree rubbed the thin white sheets in between her fingers, clutching them before relaxing and letting the now crumpled sheets back down. The pillow under her head was soft, as was the mattress she lied upon.
The girl closed her eyes, only for the lids to lift again when she heard the click of a door.
An unfamiliar man walked in, a clipboard in hand and glasses. He had a white medical lab coat, a light blue shirt and khaki pants. This was your stereotypical doctor. The man walked over to Ree's bed and sat next to her feet, "How are you feeling, Ree?"
Like a billion bricks were dropped on me, she swallowed, "Fine."
"That's good," he jotted down some notes then turned back to her, "Now, do you remember anything? Anything at all?"
Ree shook her head, not finding any memories of what exactly just occurred. She was oblivious. The girl couldn't remember anything and everything. It was as though she was given a memory wipe, able to keep only her name.
It was all blank.
Was something supposed to be there? What exactly am I supposed to remember? Why can't I find anything? This was giving her a headache, the buzzing questions tried to sort themselves out, but seemed to lead back to the same questions. It was a painful cycle she was stuck in.
A throat clearing itself grabbed her attention and Ree looked into the eyes of the doctor's palm, which held three pills and the other hand held a glass of water. When did he get those?
She took the biggest pill of his palm, it was no bigger than her little finger's nail. Popping it into her mouth, she took a mouthful of water and swallowed. Ree repeated the process for the other two pills.
"Ree," the girl looked at him over the rim of the glass that sat on her lips, "I'm afraid you have amnesia. We performed an MRI scan and you seem to also be in the early stages of brain aneurysm."
"What's 'brain an-your-ism...?'" She carefully sounded out the foreign word, her tongue did not want to comply with the sound of it.
"Brain an-er-ism," the doctor corrected, "Cerebral aneurysm is a disorder in which a cerebral artery, or vein, balloons in the blood vessel because of its weakness in its wall," he gestured with his hands as he explained.
Ree wasn't following, "What happens when you have a brain aneurysm?"
The doctor placed a hand on her shin as some form of comfort, "You're developing short-term memory loss," when she furrowed her eyebrows, he clarified, "You'll be incapable of making new memories."
Her eyebrows raised and she sucked in a breath, "So... you're saying, I have no memories, and I'll continue to have no memories?"
The doctor nodded, "It'll be a fresh start every day. Each morning you'll wake up with no memory of what happened the day prior. Or any day," and he stood up, placing the glass on a nearby counter and leaving the room.
Ree looked around the room, noticing more than the drowsy observation she made earlier. It was nothing much that caught her eye, except a figure sitting in the corner on a black leather stool that stood in between the counter and wall.
He was male, judging by the lean structure of his body. An African-American man. His pants were black, and he wore a white shirt with two thin, vertical lines, red and blue. Over that shirt was a baggy grey hoodie that seemed to fit his style. Black Adidas adorned his feet. His hair was in dreads drawn back and tied into a hairtie to make up a ponytail. On his forehead sat a blue visor, just above the blue eyes that were staring intensely at Ree.
He opened his mouth and softly said, "Hey."
"Hi...?" The girl said with uncertainty at the stranger. She could have sworn she saw the wall through him, like he was transparent. How long has he been there? How long has she been here? Because of her short-term memory loss, how many times has the doctor had to repeat his explanation?
"Th' doctor had t' fill ya in twice, today bein' th' second time," he continued with his words, "Ya been out f'r 'bout a week."
She nodded, listening to his words. They were odd. Meaning, both the way he spoke, and that they weren't coming through her ears. It sounded like he was speaking in her mind.
He chuckled, "Tha's 'cause I am speakin' in ya mind, lil' lady," the man paused, waiting for a thought to run through Ree's head, "Yes, I can read your thoughts. I'm in ya head."
The man tapped his temple, referring to his head. Or Ree's head, to be exact. The wall behind him was still visible. What was he, a spirit or something? And he confirmed that he was, in fact, a ghost.
"Now, now, lil' one, I'm not a ghost. I'm a spirit. If there's any difference between th' two..." It was odd. Talking to a gho- spirit that was in her head. Now how did he get in my head?
Ree frowned, what now? Her young eyes wandered around the room and she kept thinking about the memories she didn't have. Her mind was so blank, what had happened that made it like this? It felt like there was something supposed to be there, to fill in the space. The only memories were the fuzzy ones that she gained not even thirty minutes ago.
She'll lose it again by morning.
"Hey now, dun be like tha'. I'm still here t' fill ya in, just like I did yesterday."
Her frown became deeper, "I'm sure you'll get tired of having to remind me every day."
The man seemed to think, his usual bright blue eyes dimmed down. His face became straight before reappearing to its normal laidback glow, "Hmm... Ya could record in a journal or somethin' each night, maybe?"
"Yeah, that might just work."
...
~ o Castle of Shards o ~
...
You know when you move to go do or grab something, and when you reach that place you forget why you're there? Or how you are about to say something, but you can't recall what it is.
That's how my short-term memory loss works. Every day I begin fresh, and I continuously become forgetful throughout that day. Some moments it even affects everyday things, such as reading or walking. Anything that involves movement, usually becomes forgotten, only for me to pick up on it within a few minutes.
Whenever I'm on my period... oh, man. I kept thinking I was dying.
I think the worse part is forgetting your family and friends. My parents, my aunt and uncle. My cousin.
There have been some instances where I've passed out, had severe headaches and became nauseous. But that all passed when I developed a larger aneurysm rupture, I became asymptomatic.
People have become used to my memory loss, and school is in between accepting and unwelcoming. I've made friends, only to forget them the next day. I only had one, who stuck with me for a while before having enough.
My life is hard, and having no social life with it makes it even more difficult than it already is. But I've learned to stick with it and make the most out of my days. Having the best time, only to forget it.
Though, I do have one friend. He's bound to me, unable to leave. He's a nice guy, and I always find comfort in his laidback tone and slang. He's actually hovering over my shoulder, smiling at what I'm writing.
This dude is in my mind, no one else can see him except me. People call me crazy, others lonely and some troubled. But I call myself special. I have contact with a spirit.
He calls himself Jazz.
Ree placed the journal back on the bookshelf, her hands grazed over the countless journals that lined her shelves, there were about thirteen. Some only had about twenty pages ranging to eighty. They were filled in no time.
For her birthday, which she repeatedly learned was on the twenty-third of June, she received a pen recorder and black framed glasses with a hidden camera. Both had two gigabytes for her to use. The girl can record her day and upload it on the computer. Since then, she's been using the recorders but still carries a journal around, just in case.
Jazz also helps her remember.
...
My life is a castle of shards, broken down into bits that cannot be pieced back together. Even if I tried, I'd still be broken. But I still stand tall as a castle of glass.