New readers, start here: 1. Survivor
“Shelby?”
The voice filters into my dream about a dog running in the snow. Happy. Carefree. And then … what? My throat constricts.
He was there.
He was there.
Nononononononono.
He won’t find you.
He always finds me.
Can you remember anything about him…
He makes sure I don’t.
How?
He fucks with my head.
Trauma interferes with her memories. It’s pure survival.
We need more, Doc.
You always need more. I have nothing left. To. Give. Anyone.
“Shelby?”
My eyes flicker open. I clench my hands and find them filled with soft fur. Raina’s head lays on my stomach. Her amber eyes drift open. I see her sleepy gaze, and I feel relief flood me. She is not scared. She is not alerted. She is okay.
I am okay.
“Shelby? Hey, babe.”
I turn my head and see a man sitting in a chair next to my hospital bed. He has short, sandy-brown hair, and he’s wearing a beige cable-knit sweater over white-washed jeans.
“It’s me, Garrett.”
Somewhere in my brain, Garrett echoes like a familiar song. I’ve heard the tune, but I don’t remember the words. I frown at him. “Cop.”
“No. I’m not a—”
“COP!”
“She’s talking about me,” says the policeman’s voice.
He steps up to the other side of the bed. I stare at him. Brown eyes. Short hair. Round hat. Blue shirt. Black pants.
“Cop,” I whisper. “Who is Shelby?”
“You are.”
I slowly shake my head. I can’t remember my name, but I know it’s not Shelby. I don’t like everyone calling me by another person’s name. “Not me.”
“Babe, you’re Shelby McCormick,” says the other man. “I’m Garrett Jackson. Your boyfriend. We live together.”
“Ranger,” I snarl at him.
His eyes widen. “We don’t know where he is, babe. He wasn’t with your … uh, with you.”
I look at Garrett. I don’t like him. I clench Raina’s fur and feel my muscles tighten. She raises her head and looks at me then turns toward Garrett. She issues a low, warning growl.
“You need to leave,” says Cop.
“No way. I’m the only family she’s got, and I’m not—”
“Leave, or I’ll arrest you.”
Garrett stands up, grabs a coat laying on the back of the chair. “I’ll come back, babe. I’m not giving up on you. On us.” He has brown eyes, too, like Cop’s. But his are muddy. Dirty. Ugly.
He looks as though he wants to touch me, but Raina snaps at him, and he moves away from the bed.
We watch him go. He doesn’t look back.
When the door shuts, I look at Cop.
“The doctors thought maybe being around your boyfriend would start up your memory machine. We haven’t been able to find any family…”
I lift my hand and beckon the policeman closer. Cop leans down close to my face. “Garrett,” I whisper. “Liar.”
Thank you for reading REMEMBER, a micro-fiction novel experiment.
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Fascinating. I thought Garrett was the one who moved in with her and was griping about Ranger.
Or is it Ranger he's lying about? Because Ranger should have returned home.
This is great, Michele. Yours are very capable hands to be in as a reader! Love being able to pull back layers a little bit at a time along with Shelby. Absolutely love that last line. Can’t wait to see what turns this’ll take!