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In shock, I stagger back, but by some miracle as I do my hand flies up and swats the gun away. Whoever's holding it doesn't exactly drop it, but rather fumbles for a moment, and I use that time to get as far away as possible. I scramble back, managing to get myself to the opposite wall before the gun's trained on me again. I desperately glance over to where my own gun is, hoping I can somehow grab it in time, but all I see is an empty holster.
I look over at the intruder. I can see now it's a man, his face concealed by a ski mask. "Don't move" he says quietly, but his words hold so much force that he might as well be yelling. Why doesn't he just shoot me now; get it over with?
I can see from here where my cell phone is. All the way on the other end of the room, it sits on a counter, charging. I must have left it behind the day I was shot, which would have been lucky, had I run to that end of the room instead. Now it's just useless.
"Well?" I say as the hooded figure does nothing. "What are you waiting for?". Even though he's wearing a mask, I can almost feel him grin. He steps forward, coming just a little bit closer. "What, can't hit a target unless it's point-blank range?" I snap tauntingly. If I'm going to die, I might as well go down fighting in whatever way I can.
"Stupid pig" he says. "If you had any sense you would have locked your gun away as soon as you got home. Your little friends already made that mistake once, and they'll do it again. One head shot from this, and it'll look like you committed suicide. I'm sure no one will be surprised…who can live not even being able to remember themselves?". He takes another step forward, and as he does I inch down the wall a little; preparing to run. If he wants it to make sure it looks like I took my own life, he'll have to shoot me at an incredibly close range. I'll just have to make sure he never gets that close.
"And you know what's even worse?" he teases, coming a little closer. "That little girlfriend of yours will always think you left her behind; that your took the cowards way out. She'll go her whole life hating you; but don't worry. She won't be alive for very long. I hear prison's hard on cop-killers".
Without even realizing it, I turn myself not to run away, but to attack. As soon as the man takes another step closer I dash towards him, grabbing his gun-hand and trying to wrestle it out of his grasp. He's strong, but I manage to force his fingers to release and the gun goes skittering across the floor; landing somewhere under the couch. In anger, the man forces all of his weight on me, sending us both tumbling to the ground. His hands wrap around my throat, pushing down on my windpipe and causing me to gasp for air. I grap his wrists, trying to force his hands off of me, but it's no use. I can barely manage to lessen his grip enough to even get a little air. But either way, I'll win. If he kills me like this it'll be obvious that I was murdered. Then maybe Natara can go free. I can see it now, her walking out into the bright sunlight. That fiancé of her's, a total stranger to me, waiting for her.
"That poor little friend of yours" the man taunts. He pushes down harder, making it all the much harder to breathe. "She just found our you're alive. Too bad she'll be saying goodbye again before she knows it. And that other little friend of yours, Amy". Red creeps into my vision, but the man still doesn't let up. "Oh, you don't remember her, do you? But she'll know you're alive by now. Such a shame. Right after she lost that boyfriend of hers too. What was his name again? Ken?".
Ken. That name rings in my skull like a never-ending scream. I know him. And I know he was murdered, killed in cold blood. That name stirs something inside of me, something that's not ready to give up. I push back, harder than ever before. The man's hands falter just the slightest bit, just enough for me to make a quick gasp of air, before he bears down on me again. But that one breath of air reminds me that I can't give up, that I can't leave Natara or Blaise or even this Amy person behind. I shove back, managing to lift my head up and almost shove the man off of me. But he slams my head down, hard. The spot where I was shot erupts with pain, a thousand times worse then when Kai poked me. Color splashes across my vision, an odd ringing filling my ears. The room around me feels like it's slipping away, and for the briefest moment I close my eyes to try and get a hold of myself.
It's dark, and I can't move. At my side is a woman, her eyes wide and tearful. I can tell she's trying not to cry, and I would say something to her, but I don't know how. My head hurts so bad, I can feel it throbbing to the beat of my heart.
"Please" I hear her whisper "Please remember". But that's the one thing I can't seem to do. Remember. I want to, more than anything. I want to know who this woman is, and why she's here. But I can't seem to string words together, even in my mind. So I just sit there, like a mute, unable to offer her any words of comfort as tears stream down her face.
I open my eyes, returning to reality. To my surprise I've been subconsciously fighting still, pushing back harder than ever. I hold onto the memory of that woman, the one I now know is Natara, making it my reminder of why I'm not giving up. But with that other memories come too, connecting with the first like a paper chain. I can remember meeting Natara, her eyes sharp with annoyance as I call her 'Nat'. I can remember standing on a rooftop, her in a formal dress, as we lean on the edge and eat Chinese food. I can remember her laughs and smiles, the way she would frown upon going against protocol and how she could get inside people's minds and make them talk. But I can remember other things too. I can remember her grief and frustration, the way seeing her like that made me feel like there was a splinter in my heart. I can remember her telling me she was afraid she could never be loved, and that she could never love back. And I can remember wanting nothing more than to tell her she's wrong. To tell her she can be loved, that there's nothing wrong with her, because I love her. And I remember telling her that, all of it. Right to her face.
"In her darkest, loneliest hours, she worries that she's the kind of person that can't be loved…the kind of person who can't be loved back. She's been hurt and she's afraid she'll never really be able to trust another person ever again. She's the bravest person I've ever met…But the one thing she's afraid if is that she's too damaged to ever really be happy".
For the first time, I look right into the eyes of my attacker. Right into the eyes of the man who's trying so hard to end my life. It's him who should be afraid he can't be loved; and I feel sorry for him. For someone to have to much hatred, so much darkness in them to drive them to kill another human being…it would almost be a blessing for him to lose his memory like I did.
With a sudden spurt of strength I push up, shoving the man off of me and sending him flying back. I quickly reach up and grab his collar, shoving his down to the ground. His head smacks against the edge of the coffee table on the way down, knocking him out cold. I scramble to my feet, ignoring my pounding heart and erratic breathing as I grab my phone as quickly as I can. Before I even use it I turn the man over, grabbing his arms and roughly wrenching them behind his back. I put all my weight on him, using one hand to hold his arms down should he wake up. With my other hand I begin to type a familiar number. I could always use speed-dial, but I want to type in the number I have memorized, simply because I can.
Before the other person can even say hello, I say quickly "Hey, Blaise…I've kinda got a situation here. How far away are you?". My voice is different from before, even I can tell. It's certainly not as timid, but there's something else. I guess it just sounds more like the voice I had before, the voice that I can remember as my own.
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