"But I'm so tired of crying but I'm out… I'm on the road again…"
The man fascinated her. She stood there in the middle of the empty food market gazing at this young 20-so year-old man with old and very cheap sunglasses, and an even older guitar in his lap, his fingers just grazing the strings -no not even touching them- the guitar seemed to sing on its own without the talent of the man. The girl felt like this scene frozen in time was magic. And yet if time was frozen, she had that odd feeling that perhaps the man would keep on singing, the guitar would keep on belting out its harmony, as though nothing from the outside world would disturb him and his old companion. Some blues song he was singing, with a clear crisp voice that separated the air. The lyrics sounded strangely familiar. She was sure she's never heard any blues song before in her life and yet it jogged her memory pleasantly. The thought of her mother faded into her mind. She could remember golden locks of hair brushing her face, but nothing more… but she knew, somehow, that in her heart that this woman sweetly whispered these exact same words in her ear.
"…And my dear mother left me when… I was quite young…"
Her eyes widened. How'd he know? A vision of some huge building flooded her mind and she didn't notice that her eyes began to become wet as well. Someone important was holding her small hand as she walked in to join the other lost children.
Yes. That place was only for lost children. Children not wanted by the world, children simply forgotten. She began to panic, as she tried to remember more, she tried with everything in her body to remember her mother, the song she sang, that day, that horrible day she knew as she tried to remember that changed everything. She knew that something happened during that day which caused her to go to the horrible prison of the children. But the harder she tried, the more it began to fade away.
Due to the beam of sunlight, she could see through the young man's sunglasses now, and with a surprise she noticed the cataracts in his eyes through the dark shades. The man was blind. He looked up suddenly with a flick of his eyes and- still singing, said:
"Aww… another lost one eh? Lots of traveling -Eve- long way to go but even a longer way back…"
Something was very wrong here. What did he call her? Why couldn't she remember her real name?
The blind man was looking at her intently, giving her the eerie sense that he could really see her. She really started to become alarmed now, with no recollection of how she came to this place and no memory of her past, only of her mother, whose voice began to steadily become unrecognizable.
" …. what the hell is my name? What is going on?!" she silently thought.
"Okay lost child, throw one good question right at me, and I'll throw one good answer."
She thought this situation very odd- as if the man knew what she was thinking. She wanted to leave, turn back to wherever she came from, but where could she go? She felt as if the world was choking her, mockingly laughing at her attempt to snatch back what was rightfully hers- memory. The man seemed to sit there waiting for an answer, the music ceased traveling to her ears. Panic dripped into her mind.
She wanted to break out, to free her mind of the pure horror that overwhelmed her body. Her vision became cloudy as she wanted with all her heart to scream. The wind was sucking in her breath from her lungs, and the earth seemed to want to swallow her whole. She swore she heard a rip in her ears.
"Ya a lost one alright, forgot your name huh? Yup, he's on your trail. I gave ya a name from the top of my head so He wouldn't have an easy time finding ya. He can tell which child is lost or not ya know, 'cause a lost child has an aura around them, something like hopelessness- but you can smell it on 'em too…." The man seemed to be excited and his dark eyes seemed to flash, as if defying this certain man thrilled him. The girl finally regarded him as crazy, but a nice crazy (AN: as if there is such thing).
"Boy, ain't ya glad I found ya!!" He did a weird strum that drew her attention to the guitar again, and the short note relaxed her. Shaking her head, she formed her thoughts together as her heart began to fear talking to this strange young man. Perhaps his music made her feel this way? But no- she knew that this man was not that way, she knew that this man could very well be a friend. He had a sensation of giving the passerby the emotion that he could tell this strange man anything in his life. That moment, for the first time in her life, she trusted this man. She calmly lowered her voice.
"What are you talking about? What do you mean I'm a lost child? I'm not lost…" She paused. She racked her brain, but she couldn't remember where she came from. Suddenly she wanted to cry, but what for? She hadn't lost anything according to her, just the only thing that defined her. The only thing that she could keep forever if she had indeed lost everything.
Her name.
With that thought, she gave up on her feeble attempt to fight her emotions running full throttle around in circles in her mind. "I can't remember my name," she thought as tears streamed down her cheeks. The man's nostrils flared as he smelled the salt from the tears in the air, and he suppressed a sorrow of great intensity that no real human could experience. He put the guitar beside him and looked at the crying girl with his dead eyes.
"Oh dear Evie, don't ya worry, ya name's Eve, I've seen too many of your kind go into the dark, go to za Obyss, every last one of yas.." He caught the girl as she knelt down as if he knew exactly where she was to land. He began to rock her like a child.
"But for some reason, ya have a different smell, Eve. You are somewhat different. The air around you smells… good. And pure." And with a mutter: "Oh Eve child, you are what everyone needs right now…"
The poor girl was indeed nothing, felt like her life had just started just minutes ago, having no memories, no sorrow for what life her childhood had been: the knowing that her mother did not want her, the harshness of the orphanage, and having nothing of her own, just her name. In a way, it was better for her like this. In a way it was better for her not to know of her past. But the truth is that everyone needs a past, good or bad, to be completely human. But now this young girl in the middle of the empty food market was not one at all.