(A/N): Yeah, you may have noticed I said John works in a hospital...I put it in because I thought he would need another job beside being a priest and an exorcist. I'm not sure if this is true or not, but I like to think so. Eeeeeh my first review! Thank you very much!
I was discharged from the hospital a week later. By then, my ribs were almost fully healed after they had been cracked, although my arm was still in a sling. According to Doctor Nakamura, I had been at the hospital for two weeks now. And according to snatches of conversation from nurses, the week I had been unconscious, I had been quite an 'irritating' patient. I heard them say I would wake up the whole ward with screaming and hysterics, none of which I could remember. The more information I found out, the more I was disturbed.
The doctor had decided I was suffering from amnesia, or rather suppressed memories. And no matter how he tried, my mind remained a complete blank.
"There is no telling how long your memories will stay locked up." He had informed me. "Could be weeks, could be months. You may wake up tomorrow and remember everything." That never happened. Each morning I woke up, I would stare mindlessly at the ceiling, and wait for the memories to come flooding back.
No such luck.
The streets of Tokyo were more chaotic and busy than I remembered. Each person that strode passed seemed to walk more…violently, more briskly. The traffic blared, and the neon lights made my head swim. Shuffling along the pavement, I pulled my coat tighter around me. It was a coat I did not remember ever possessing. In truth, all the clothes I wore were not mine. Apparently, they belonged to the couple who found me. Not even the shoes belonged to me – they belonged to the hospital.
In the end, I caught a bus. My feet had brought me to a bus stop automatically, acting through my daily routine of their own accord. Doctor Nakamura had told me that, while I recovered and regained my memories, I would find myself falling into patterns and habits that I might not necessarily remember doing or why.
"Look out carefully for them." He had advised me. "They might just be small things, unimportant things. But if you are able to recognise them, it will make it easier to recognise if your behaviour has changed at all, if you start doing things you wouldn't normally do, or even if you have stopped doing things you normally would."
At first, his hasty explanation and my overwhelming tiredness meant I did not really follow what he said. The fact it was in Japanese really didn't help. But now, sitting on the bus as it shook and rattled to a halt, I was thankful for this automatic routine. So far, it had gotten me to the bus, and I remembered that I lived in the outer suburbs of the city. Well, at least I was remembering something.
Climbing off the bus, I found myself facing a small, concrete apartment block. A purple-flowered plant was growing up the side of the wall, like ivy, and I could see, on one of the balconies, a vast array of plants. It all felt strangely familiar.
Wait, I have no keys, I realised with a jolt. How could I get in if I had no keys? I hadn't thought of that…
"Brown-san!"
I turned around. An elderly woman was approaching the flats, leant over on a walking stick. Her clothes were completely black and formal, with not even a splash of colour. An old and taut face peered at me curiously.
"Good afternoon, Abe-san." The words sprung from my lips without even thinking.
"I've just been visiting the grave." The woman – Abe-san – informed me, hobbling forwards and taking out a set of keys. The name flashed in my mind: Chikaki Abe, an old widow. I think she lived on floor 2…yes, she was the owner of the apartment, and she was the one who kept all the plants. In fact, she had even planted the purple wall flower.
"The wisteria is coming out nicely." I remarked as she limped past me towards the door.
"Yes, it's bloomed early this year." She told me as she fiddled with the lock. "Oh, before I forget, you really worried me, you know that? All of us here, even Yamazaki-san on floor four. We almost sent out a missing person report."
I frowned. Almost? If I had been missing for a month…Why hadn't they reported it to the police?
"If your colleague hadn't told us you were on a business trip, we honestly would have gone to the police." She continued.
"Um, which colleague, Abe-san?" I asked quickly. Who would say that?
"Let me think…" She leaned on the door frame and tapped her walking stick on the ground as she thought.
"…You know, I just can't remember." She shook her head. "My memory is not what it used to be. You're young, you wouldn't understand."
I did not reply to such an ironic statement. Unfortunately, I understood perfectly well. Instead, I asked her,
"I'm sorry, but do you have a spare key to the apartment? I've misplaced mine."
Abe-san turned around in surprise. "You? Lost your key? Well, I never. I always thought you kept it very safe, Brown-san. Where did you last have it?"
"Um…I can't remember."
Abe-san laughed. "You're almost getting as bad as me, Brown-san!" I laughed half-heartedly with her. Chuckling, she pressed a small key into my hand.
"Here you go. Take care of this one, ok?"
I nodded. "Thank you, Abe-san."
The apartment room was cold and filled with stale dust. No one had been here for a while. As I walked into the room, the alarm beeped in irritation, until I pressed a code and it ceased. Again, my hands just moved to the right buttons. Underneath, the floor boards creaked in tension when I placed a tentative step on them. Everything looked normal, nothing was out of place. If anything, the room felt more tidy than it should be. The kitchen was clean, nothing was lying stranded on the floor. Even so, I moved cautiously around the rooms, searching for any intruders who might have come in.
Intruders?
An alarm bell went off in my mind. I had never looked for intruders before, I was sure of it. It was not part of any daily routine I had ever done. So why was I looking now?
I shook my head. Perhaps I was being paranoid. I hadn't been here in a while, it was…natural to look for any signs of trouble, especially with a month-worth of holes in my memory. Anyway, after a thorough search of the apartment rooms, I found that the place was safe. No one dangerous was there, and nothing dangerous had been placed here while I was away. Sighing in relief, for some reason, I slumped down on my bed. Everything was so tiring and…confusing. And these clothes were too big for me. Shrugging off the oversized coat, I pulled open a draw from my wardrobe and grabbed a shirt. It was nicely covered in dust. Shaking it out, I checked it for any remaining patches of grime, and then pulled off the shirt I was currently wearing.
Then I caught sight of my reflection in the mirror.
It was only a glimpse, from inside the bathroom. I had left the door open, and I could just see a small snatch of the mirror from inside my bedroom. But as soon as I saw the reflection, I froze. Swallowing the dread that had worked its way up my throat, I walked to the bathroom and opened the door wide.
Above the sink, a mirror was hanging. And my reflection was cast inside it. But I was shocked by what I saw. I knew I was heavily wrapped in bandages, but I did not realise how much there really was. All around my chest, and around my arms too. Even my forehead was bandaged up carefully. My face was so pale, more so than I had ever seen it. And I was very, very thin. My rib cage was visible beneath the skin. I was thankful they were healed. But what concerned me the most was the thick, purple mark around my neck. Like someone had been choking me.
I did not sleep well that night.
