It was quiet. Of course, most small towns would be at two in the morning on a Monday...
The only lights were the occasionally flickering street lamps and the irritating fluorescent glow of the 24-hour MiniMart.
Inside the store, the on-duty clerk sat half-asleep, a book propped up on the counter in front of him and the news blaring on the television in the background. Had he been fully awake, the clerk might have been prepared for what happened next... He might have been...
A bell jingled as someone stumbled through the door. Their damp hair clung to their face, a sign that the rain outside had picked up. The clerk watched him with interest as he took three limping steps and stopped.
"Can I help you with anything?"
The man mumbled a response and limped forward, one hand clutching his right side.
"I can't hear you, buddy. Could you—"
The stranger dropped to the floor, his hand falling away to reveal the five-inch gash in his side. The gray linoleum was quickly stained a dark crimson.
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When the ambulance and the police arrived, the clerk could have been the one that had nearly been stabbed to death for how ghastly his complexion was. The police looked around the area for clues, though their hopes were grim with the rain falling so heavily. Any clues that could help them would most likely have been washed away. All they could do was wait for him to wake up...
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"Where am I?"
"What do you care? You got away, right?"
"Away? From what?"
"You do remember the men, don't you?"
"Who?"
"You're pathetic."
"What makes you say that? Who are you to judge me?"
"Ouch. That really hurts. What the hell happened to you? Wait... there's something missing here..."
'Have we met before?'
"How can you not remember me
'I don't know... Ummm...'
"What is it?"
'I don't even remember who I am.'
"This could get interesting..."
'Can you—'
"Your name is Clark. You are twenty one years old. Now wake up."
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The ceiling was white. That was the first thing Clark noticed when he opened his eyes.
'Am I in the hospital?' he wondered. 'What happened to me?'
"It's good to see that you're awake, son. How are you feeling?"
He was in pain… Why did that concept seem so odd to him?
Clark looked around sleepily for the source of the voice. There, at the end of the bed. A doctor... 'But how did I get here?' He moaned; partly in frustration, but mostly in pain.
"Let's get some more morphine for you huh? I'm not surprised that you're in pain; that was a pretty nasty gash you had there. You're lucky that whoever had it out for you managed to miss anything vital."
Clark felt the pain begin to ebb as the morphine kicked in.
"Don't tell me you can't take the pain. That's just a little nick! It didn't even come close to your kidneys."
'Who are you?! What do you want from me?!'
"You'll find out eventually."
'I don't think I want to find out.'
"That's kind of harsh Clark
'Go away.'
"You'll regret that."
"Son? Can you hear me?"
Clark blinked. "What?"
"I asked you what your name is."
"Uh... It's Clark."
"Clark? And your last name?"
"I..." He didn't know. Maybe that voice could tell him. 'Are you there?' No response. "I can't remember..."
The doctor's look was one of disbelief. "You're serious aren't you?"
"Yes."
"Do you remember anything else about yourself?"
"You're twenty one stupid." The voice was apparently choosing when it did or didn't feel like throwing in some commentary here and there.
'Shut up!'
"Your loss."
"I'm twenty one." Clark told the doctor.
"Alright. We'll see what we can do for you Clark. But for now, just get some sleep."
"I can help you," the voice piped in again.
'I don't want your help,' Clark scowled as he grew frustrated with the voice.
"If you say so. I'll be around, Clark
Clark felt as though some unseen presence had left the room. And at the same time, it felt like it was still there, just waiting for the right moment to reappear. But at least he would get some peace and quiet for now. This was as good a time as any to get some sleep.