Chapter 2

Darkness. It surrounds me. I can't see my hands or feet. It is just pure abyss. Words don't come out when I try to speak, they remain just thoughts in my mind. It's silent at first, quiet. So quiet. And it's cold. So cold. Where am I?

Who am I?

There is a sound that starts as a whisper. A faint sound-the sound of splashing. It sounds familiar, like water hitting shore. It's soothing. A pitter-patter of something cold kisses my skin, slowly bringing me to realize I can feel.

"Come on!" A voice rings through the abyss. It echoes. It's a smooth voice, belonging to a male, but it isn't familiar to me. A pain explodes in my head, starting from the back until it envelopes me completely. It throbs like a heartbeat.

Thump, thump-thump, thump

"Wake up!" The voice continues. This time the sound is closer and doesn't echo as much.

Am I asleep? Is that why I am surrounded by darkness?

A heaviness pushes on my chest. I inflate and deflate. Inflate and deflate. And the pushing continues. The sound of a vacuum sucks up the abyss. A faint gray light spreads in front of me. I try to move my right hand over my eyes to protect them from the light, but nothing comes of it. Suddenly, like a light turning on, my eyes open and water rains down onto my face. Something is caught in my throat. I can't breathe. Rolling over, I cough heavily, gagging to get whatever it is out of my throat. Water drips down from my mouth the more I cough. There is a gentle pounding on my back. It helps push the water out of my system. My face rubs against the smooth surface of rocks and pebbles, just before the waves of the ocean collide onto the shore.

It is cold. So cold. My body quivers and shakes violently without my control. A hand grabs my left arm and tugs me back onto my back. Above me is a young man, maybe of sixteen of age, with long black hair that sticks to him like a second skin. He's soaked from head to toe. He has the most beautiful russet skin, smooth and taught, and chocolate brown eyes that look worriedly down at me.

"You okay?" He asks. It is the same voice I heard in the abyss, echoing to me, telling me to wake up. He softly rubs his hands along my arms that shake under his touch, warming me up in just the slightest. My teeth chatter, and I can't respond right away/ When I don't reply his brows furrow in confusion and intense concern.

"Y-yeah," I stutter. Placing my left hand down onto the ground, I lift myself up into a sitting position. The moment I move in the slightest, my head throbs treacherously. Naturally, my right hand reaches for my temple and I close my eyes.

Questions litter my mind.

Why do I hurt? Where am I? How'd I get here?

I try to think back, but all that fills my mind is the abyss. Nothing before.

"You must have hit your head. What were you doing up there to begin with? Jumping from that height almost always leads to getting hurt or death." He says. He looks over at me, examining my body that I now see is battered with scrapes and newly forming bruises. Nothing hurts more than my head, though.

"What do you mean?" I ask.

"You jumped from that cliff." He points off to my right side and when I go to look, I notice a rather high cliff being beaten by dangerous waves. A storm must be coming because the clouds are a dark gray, it's lightly raining, and the waves are relentless.

"I don't remember…" I admit.

"What do you remember?"

Looking up at him, I shake my head. "Nothing. I remember nothing."

The concern on faces explodes into alarm. "Please tell me you remember who you are."

Taking a deep breath, I close my eyes and focus on anything beyond the dark abyss, but nothing comes to me. I shake my head frantically, only doubling the pain of my throbbing head. "No, I don't."

"Okay," he starts, but his eyes scream he doesn't know what to do. He looks around uncomfortably, making me feel a bit nervous. "Let's get you to a clinic."

He helps me up, but with every movement, my head pulses even more. Eventually, groans of pain leave my lips. He wraps a muscular arm around my waist and pulls me up against his body for support. My right hand finds its way to his stomach where underneath his shirt I can feel a line of abs. My cheeks heat up and instead of resting my hand there for support, I let it sway at my side and I try to use as much strength to walk upright along with him. My head rolls against his shoulder, and another groan comes up.

"Maybe I will take you to my dad instead," he says worriedly, "it's closer, and then we can drive you to the clinic."

His words barely get through to me as my brain scrambles to piece all that has happened and what may have happened before this. It's heavy on my mind, the confusion and uncertainty, especially of who I am. How can I forget who I am?

'Furiae…' a woman's voice whispers in my head. It frightens me for a brief second, causing me to pause from walking and earning a confused glance from the young man. My eyes dart all over his face as if searching for an answer as to what I just heard. 'Furiae…' She continues. Her voice is angelic, smooth as silk, and has my heart pitter pattering when I hear it, but it still frightens me because I don't know what, or who it is.

"I think my name is Furiae."

"You think? Where'd you get that from?" He questions, leading the walk once again towards a forest.

I am not sure bringing up that I am hearing voices in my head, would be a good idea. "It just came to me."

"Well Furiae, my name is Jacob but you can call me Jake."

Once through the forest we reach a paved road that on the opposite side is towered over by a forest. We walk along the road for a small bit until we reach an opening in the forest, at which he helps me walk down a dirt road to a small red house with a white door that has a ramp in front of it.

"Furiae," he repeats, "that's a unique name."

"Is it?"

"I've never heard of it, myself." He guides me up the ramps to the door and then opens it, alerting a man in a wheelchair to roll out from the kitchen to the left side of the house.

"Hey dad, I saved this girl. She jumped from the cliffs and must have hit her head pretty hard. She doesn't remember who she is or how she got here."

"And you brought her here?" His father questions, raising a peppered brow.

"She's in pain. I didn't think we could walk all the way to the clinic."

He stares at the two of us for a short while, both of us struggling to stand in place as he evaluates the situation. Finally, he lets out a sigh and nods his head towards a brown couch sitting on the side of the house, in front of a small television.

We walk over to the couch in unison, where Jake helps me sit down slowly. He comes ahead of me where a coffee table lies and sits on top of it; it creaks under his weight.

"Furiae, this is my dad, Billy," Jake introduces. His dad rolls up to our side.

"Furiae? Thought she couldn't remember who she is?" He questions.

"It just came to me while we were walking," I quickly chime in.

He glances at the both of us suspiciously, but then he turns his chair back towards the kitchen and rides on over to a phone above the counter. "I'll call the clinic and see if someone can come over to check up on her."

Jake nods to his father, and smiles at me with pearly white teeth, "Don't worry, everything will be fine." He promises.

"Other than a minor concussion, she is suffering from anterograde amnesia," claims the doctor Dave, who has just finished examining my eyes and ears. He has gorgeous long black hair similar to Jake's, but his, is pulled back into a ponytail. He is wearing a doctor's jacket, underneath are common clothes that a person would typically wear around the house. He must have come over from his home just to check up on me. He gently grabs ahold of my chin and moves my head from left to right, watching my expression as it changes from okay to painful, depending on the direction my head sits. "She's going to need to stay up for some time. Make sure she doesn't fall asleep for a couple of hours."

"But what about her memories?" Jake asks. He's still sitting on the coffee table but now from a diagonal from me.

That's the thing. Her concussion is what caused the memory loss. It can last hours, days, or even weeks before she may get her memories back. They may come slowly or all at once. It can be a little shocking when they return all at once." Doctor Dave states. "Does she have a place she can stay? Maybe take her to the hospital?"

Jake and Billy look at one another. Jake is the first to nod his head while Billy shakes his. Eventually they stop, and Billy lets out an irritated sigh. "She can stay here. I'll take a picture of her and deliver it to the hospital just in case anyone is coming to look for her."

My eyes widen and my lips part. I don't want to be a burden, but I really don't want to stay in a hospital either. So I keep quiet.

"Alright, I will take my leave. If anything gets worse, have her taken to the hospital," doctor Dave says. He clamps shut a black leather bag he brought, grabs it, and heads for the door. Once he's gone, Jake scoots back in front of me and pats my kneecap reassuringly.

"I am going to get you some clothes to change into. You can stay in my room."

He gets up, nods down at his father, who is now to my left, and walks down a thin hall to the right. He disappears into a room all the way down the hall to the left.

"You really can't remember anything?" Billy asks.

"I know what things are like that's a television, you're in a wheelchair, that sort of stuff." I admit shamefully.

"Ah, well, when you're dressed and cleaned up, I will take a picture of you and send it to the hospital here and in Forks. Also, I will send it to the police station just in case someone is looking for you."

"Thank you," I reply softly, trying my best to smile. It is hard to smile for some reason-my heart isn't in it like it should be. But I couldn't be more appreciative of them allowing me to stay.

The room is dark and warm. The small cot of a bed I am laying on is a little uncomfortable, but it beats sleeping on a couch or the floor. After taking a shower, I got dressed in clothes that are far too big for me. Billy took a picture of me and printed out some copies so he can deliver them to their locations.

Rolling over, the blanket catches under my arm and tugs along with me, the scent of Jacob swarms me. It's not an unpleasant smell, the scent of bark and campfire. I push the blanket down and off my body; it is far too hot for that. Throwing it to the side, I rest back on my side and stare into the dark abyss of Jacob's tiny room.

It is almost silent. There is a faint ticking of a clock coming from the living room, which can be heard from the door being slightly open. There is a soft creaking noise. I turn to notice a silhouette in the doorway. Instinctively, I sit up and start backing up on the cot.

"Don't worry, it's me," whispers Jake. I can't see him through the darkness, only his outline that moves over to the side of the bed. When his face is finally clear enough to see, I relax and scoot back into a normal position on the cot.

"Sorry," I mutter quietly.

"For what? You did nothing wrong." He whispers back.

"What are you doing in here?" I feel weird asking that question when it is his room.

"Honestly, I don't know. Something just felt right coming in here." He says, giving a small shrug that I can just barely see. "Oh, hey, tomorrow my friend Bella is coming over to help me continue building up some bikes. If you're feeling up to it, would you like to join?"

I shrug back, "sure."

There is a second of silence between us, and then Jake lies down on the floor. I observe him, wondering if he'd get any comfort out of the wooden floor he's lying on. The moonlight beams through the small window down at Jake just enough for me to see a smile widening his lips.

"What are you smiling for?" I ask.

"Just happy. Bella is pretty cool, and I kind of have a thing for her." Jake admits. He then leans up on an elbow and looks me dead in the eyes. "Are you sure you can't remember anything? Nothing at all?"

It is bothering me a little with how much I am being asked the same question, as if no one believes me when I say it. But I can't be angry at Jake. His expression is pure innocence. He truly wants to know. Closing my eyes, I try again to focus within the darkness of my mind for any sort of memory, imagery, or even sounds, but nothing comes up. Silently, I shake my head no, and sigh, laying back down on the cot.

"That sucks. Not knowing who you are, where you came from, where your family is. I only hope that the reason you were jumping off that cliff was due to you wanting to have fun and not wanting to harm yourself. Not sure if you'd want to remember your past if the latter is true." He also lies back down on the ground.

I stare blankly up at the white ceiling, darkness at the edges of my vision. Why was I jumping off a cliff? Was it really for recreational purposes? Or was there a darker reason for it? There is silence between us for a few minutes before I hear the subtle sound of snoring coming from the side of the cot. Rolling over, I see Jake laying on his side towards me, eyes closed and passed out. I can't imagine it being comfortable, but he makes it look easy to fall asleep on hardwood flooring.

A half smile creeps up on my lips. I roll onto my back and stare up at the ceiling once again. At least I am safe here.