Chapter 3
I wake from the early sun peeking through the window to the left of me; it shines right on through directly onto the pillow my head resides on. Grumbling, I roll over to my right to see that Jake is no longer on the floor. Blinking away the tiredness, I climb out of bed and head down the hall to the living room and kitchen. No one in sight. The house is silent and empty, except for the ticking of the clock in the living room. My fingers linger along the countertops of the kitchen as I make my way to the window to look out to the yard. Beyond the house is a decent sized red shed with its double doors open and within the shed I can see Jake working on a motorbike.
The bike itself looks almost completed, but it appears he's screwing in a few pieces here and there from what I can see. Knowing where he is now, I head for the front door where just outside sits my once drenched shoes. I poke the soles with a finger, and it is indeed still pretty damp. I guess I can remain shoeless for right now. Stepping down the ramp, I head for the right for the shed, the grass and mud squishing in between my toes.
"Hey!" Jake calls out when he notices me. A wide smile grows on his face, and he waves an oil covered hand. His eyes wander along my frame until they reach my feet, at which he frowns. "You should really put some shoes on, you'll catch a cold."
My eyes drop to my feet; mud and grass already covering them completely. "There are no shoes for me to wear." I say this as I round one of the double doors. I spot a girl sitting on a double car seat to the left of the garage. This must be Bella. She's a thin girl, very pale, with long brown wavy hair and brown eyes. Your average plain jane if you ask me. There is something about her that seems off, a sadness behind her eyes and her weak smile looks forced.
"Bella, this is Furiae, Furiae, this is Bella," Jake introduces, kneeling back down to work on the bike. Now that I can see more clearly, there are two bikes next to him. One that he is working on that looks finished and another that is missing a front tire. There is a tire sprawled out on the ground next to it.
"That's an interesting name," Bella says.
"Bella must be short for something," is all I can think of saying. I am not sure what to say otherwise. It is hard to look at her without feeling a heavy depression wash over me. Bitterly, I wonder what Jake sees in her. Maybe she has some great personality? Begrudgingly, I look up at her and she half smiles, struggling to keep it up.
"It's short for Isabella, but please call me Bella."
"Ah," the sound just comes out. I balance back and forth on each foot uncomfortably while I watch Jake work, not wanting to take the seat next to Bella in fear I might be overtaken by dark emotions. But once the silence becomes too much, Jake looks up at Bella and smiles.
"I saved her from the cliffs. She jumped off, hit her head and nearly drowned. She doesn't remember who she is, or how she got here. I was able to get my dad to allow her to stay with us." Jake explains.
"Where is your dad?" I ask.
Jake stops what he's doing and leans back enough to look up at me, the smile still gracing his face, showing off his pearl white teeth that contrast his russet skin. "He delivering pictures of you to the hospitals and police stations."
I nod understandingly. After a bit of time my feet begin to ache, and I struggle internally on whether or not I should take the seat or not. While Jake and Bella converse about the bikes, I come to my final decision to walk over to the double car seat and sit down next to Bella. She looks over to me with the same struggling smile and pained look behind her eyes. It has me wondering what could have happened to her that she looks so broken inside.
She pulls from their conversation to focus on me. "You don't remember who you are? That must be scary. Nothing has come back to you?"
I shake my head under her watchful eyes, "nothing."
"How's your head?" Jake chimes in.
To be truthful, I don't even remember getting injured. Hesitantly, I move my head from side to side, grimacing only when my head meets my left shoulder. "Still hurts but not nearly as bad."
"Do you guys want pizza? I can order some." Bella asks suddenly. Without waiting for an answer, she bolts up from the seat and makes her way to the house. We both watch her as she disappears inside.
"She has a lot of pain behind her eyes," I say, glancing back at Jake, who is still watching the house door as if she will immediately reappear.
"Her boyfriend dumped her a few months ago. She's been a total loss ever since." He sounds down when he says this, his smile all but disappears. His eyes warm up, and a frown falls on his lips, deepening the creases of his face.
I see. It is very obvious he has a thing for her. Something that's deep. This makes me nervous for some reason—an uncomfortable sort of distress. My hands begin to fidget with one another in discomfort.
Bella smiles more effortlessly when she's with Jake, and when they walk together, they walk close. Both are nervous to speak, and Bella looks down when she does. I keep at a distance as we all walk to the house. The sun has gone down just in time for Jake to finish the bikes. They hardly speak and when they do, it's on the topics of their fathers, the bikes and what they are going to do with them. I have nothing I can add to any of the conversation and simply just watch from afar—feeling out of place and lonely.
When we reach the white front door, Bella says her goodbyes and leaves. Jake stands still, watching her as she gets in her red truck and drives off. I step to his side, entering his peripherals and breaking his eyesight of her car. He looks down at me with a small smile and leads the way inside. Billy is still gone, possibly having gone fishing with Bella's father. Once inside, Jake relaxes and slumps as he walks. He's not on the edge on what to say or what to do, and that's because I am not someone he's affectionate for, so he doesn't need to gain anything with me. After all, we just met, and there's no feelings between us like that, but instead, a mutual understanding.
Zipping up the zip locked bag with the last pizza inside, I place it into the fridge and turn to Jake, who is leaning against the wall next to the hallway. His arms are crossed and there is still a small smile on his lips. "Want to watch a movie?" He asks.
"What kind of movie?" I ask back. Heading for the couch, I plop down on it and watch as he comes over to the television. There is a line of DVDS against the side of the television, and once there, Jake fingers through them.
"I like horror and action stuff," he states, "but I can go for anything."
"I have no idea what I like, but horror sounds good."
"Horror it is then."
We watch the movie close together with a large bowl of popcorn in-between our legs. The movie is about a man who kills people in their sleep. A particularly good movie to watch before we go to bed. My hand bumps into his just as we both reach for some popcorn; an electrifying feeling shoots up from my hand to my arm when it happens. When I look up at Jake, he's looking down at me with apologetic eyes.
"Sorry," he mumbles, snatch his hand away from my own. Did he feel that same electrifying feeling?
I can't tell.
I frown, my hand falls back into my lap, and an emptiness takes over my heart. It has me wondering if anyone looked at me the way Jake looks at Bella. Or was I alone?
After the movie, we went our separate ways. I headed for the bathroom and he went to wash the bowl we used for the popcorn. While in the bathroom, I look at myself in the mirror for the first time since my amnesia and see a girl with long brown hair and a pair of green eyes staring back at me. There is a small scratch on my right cheek, probably from the cliff. But as I stare back into my own set of green eyes, something hits me hard in my mind.
There is a woman lying on a wooden floor whose staring up at me with terror in her eyes. She screams, "Run, Furiae, run!" But my feet stay planted where I am at. She is a beautiful woman with long, almost blonde hair and eyes, much like my own. While she's on the ground, her right leg looks out of place and she raises her hand out to me. It's bloodied. There is something that approaches us from behind her, a figure with bright red eyes. But that's all I can distinguish from the body. "Run!" She shouts again. A voice that is familiar to me, an angelic voice, but this time there is a cry behind her words. I run.
The vision abruptly stops right then. Both my hands are clutching tightly to the porcelain sink, holding myself up and together, as I stare at myself in the mirror. The girl's eyes in the mirror are wide and full of terror, her lips are parted and quivering and she looks pale for her naturally tan shade.
There is a knock on the bathroom door, and Jake's voice follows, "Hey, are you okay?"
I must have made a noise during the vision to earn his attention. When I go to move, my fingers claw against the porcelain, leaving the slight indentation where they scratch. It is hardly visible due to the material underneath being the same color. However, if someone were to run their hands along the grooves, they would feel the difference.
Looking over my hands and nails, I notice porcelain chips stuck underneath them and I wonder how it is possible for me to have done that. My nails can't be that strong? Must be from adrenaline. Yeah, that must be it.
"Hey?" Jake continues. He is now trying to open the door by rattling the knob, but I locked the door after entering.
"Sorry," I quickly say, "I think I had a vision."
He stops messing with the knob, and I unlock the door. It swings open between us. A look of worry creases a frown on his cheeks. "A vision? Like a memory?"
I nod as an answer, and walk around him to head to his room. Seeing what I saw makes me need to sit down, and when I reach his room, I take a seat on the edge of the cot. My fingers curl into the blanket and I stare, dumbfounded, at the closest door across the room. Jake follows me with the same expression glued on his face. I can tell he wants me to explain, and I do.
I explain everything in the best detail I can give with the quick look I got into the vision, and as I do, he sits next to me, placing a hand on my upper back to comfort me. The same electrifying feeling rolls along my back and forces its way through my body.
"It doesn't matter now, who knows how long ago that memory is." I say.
"It does matter. Sounds like someone you care about was in real trouble." He replies. But I can tell he doesn't fully believe me. His eyes softened in disbelief when I mentioned the figure having red eyes. I probably should have left that bit out. But if someone was in real trouble. Whoever it was, was trying to warn me. Her voice was familiar, like the voice I heard in my head that spoke my name. Could it have been her?
That night Jake snuck back into his room again, this time bringing a pillow and a blanket with him. We laid there in silence, both on our backs and looking up at the ceiling.
"Do you think that woman was your mother? The way you described her sounds kind of like you." Jake breaks the silence.
I shrug. Regardless, he can't see it. "I guess. I wonder if she died like that…" I say slowly.
The silence lingers with the last words I had said, and then I hear Jake shifting below, probably rolling onto one of his sides.
"I lost my mother too, in a pretty bad car crash."
My heart drops, and lump grows in my throat. I try swallowing the lump away, but it doesn't leave. Moving onto my side as well, I look over the cot down at Jake, who is looking back up at me.
"I am so sorry to hear that."
"It was a long time ago when I was really young, but my sisters remember it pretty well." He lingers.
"Sisters? You have sisters?" I don't remember seeing any pictures of them throughout the house and then again, I didn't go looking for them either.
"Yeah, Rachel and Rebecca. Rachel went to the University of Washington and Rebecca lives in Hawaii with her husband."
"At least you have a family you can remember," grumbling I move onto my back again. "I just want to remember. Then I can know who I am, and where I came from."
"I haven't brought up my mother to Bella," he mumbles, just barely able to hear him. "You're the only one I talked to about her at all, really."
"With your genes, I bet she was beautiful."
He forces a chuckle. "She was, from what I can remember. And thanks. I think I am beautiful too."
"You are a very beautiful man, Jacob Black." I chuckle a little as well.
With that, we remain silent until I heard the soft sound of his quiet snores. I stare up at the ceiling, hardly able to see it and try to imagine what she looked like when she wasn't hurt. And what my father could have looked like. And did I have any siblings? Questions, I hope will be answered soon. Closing my eyes, I try to imagine a life where I didn't lose my memory, with fake images of my family living a happy life without those red eyes.