Save Me

Chapter One

It took her a couple of seconds to realize and when she finally did, she bolted right up from the floor.

She squinted her eyes at the bright light that assaulted her. There was a prominent throb in her head and ache in her muscles that had her groaning. She didn’t know much about what she actually realized, except for the fact that she was apparently lying on the floor and was now glaring at the curtain-draped window.

When she adjusted to the light, her stare lingered on the curtain. It was as simple as plain white with fine lines designing at its bottom end. The fabric was thin considering how futile it was suppressing the sun’s heated rays. It was nothing special—it’s a curtain—except for the realization that she didn’t remember this curtain.

That head her moving.

She twisted her head in different directions, all at the same time. Her stare flickered at object after object. Instead of further help, it only caused something in her head to twitch. Thus, she decided to stop for a moment and settled her eyes on the floor. When the ache subsided, she took a deep breath and glanced up at the curtain once more.

Where… where was this place?

She tried to stand up, holding the wall for support despite the tremble in her legs. The place she was in appeared to be an apartment. The walls were tiled in white, free of any stains or dirt. The walls were accented with bright hues—pastels—bare and unscratched. The living room had three couches—two single-people and one longer—that faced a small flatscreen TV, forming a fat ‘U’ with the glass table at the center. Without a partition, a kitchen was connected to the living room. An island bar at the center with three wooden high-stools, couple of cupboards above and at the bottom of the counter, sink, a stove, and a fridge. A small entry way lead to what she recognized as a metal front door. Near it was another small hallway that led to three other doors.

The cold from the air-conditioned place made her gulp the lump from her throat.

This place was nothing she recognized nor remembered being.

“I d-don’t understand,” her voice cracked with dryness, and she had to cough several times to get accustomed to.

She sat on one of the couches and cupped her head. Where was this place? Why was she here? Why couldn’t she recognize anything? Who was—she froze.

“Who am I?”

As silence bounced back to her and the lack of immediate response in her head, that’s when it properly hit her.

She couldn’t remember a single thing.

There was something calming about drinking water after almost having a mental breakdown. And by mental breakdown, that meant a literal pain in her head which almost convinced her, her brain was breaking down literally. Perhaps it was simply because of rehydration and nothing more special about it, but it was the only thing effective to organize her thoughts.

She placed the empty glass back on the counter. As she stared on the glass, her gut churned in realization that she had consumed something in a place that was totally unknown to her. She might’ve just taken poison. Well, it was too late now. Despite that somehow, she didn’t feel all too scared around the confines of these pastel-hued walls. Unfamiliar and anxious, yes, but not a heart-wrenching fear. Some depth in her mind told her that unfamiliarity and anxiety all led up to fear, but if then this was a different kind of fear.

She groaned and sat on the high stool. She raked her mind for anything—a scene, a face, a place, a name—but ended up with nothing.

“I really don’t understand.” She muttered.

What was there for her to understand? She couldn’t recall anything that happened prior to her waking. That alone even was hard to understand.

“Maybe it’s just a temporary thing. If I’ll sleep it out, it’ll probably go back.”

“This isn’t seriously happening.”

“What is even happening?”

“Why can’t I—” her words stopped as her fist met with the counter. The thud resonated across the room and while she winced in the pain, she didn’t fully regret doing that. She felt some of the tension leaving her body and that was the least she could do.

She stood up and went back to the living room. She stood at the center, hands drawn to her hips while she looked around. She then noticed what minor details she have failed to do so the first time. The living room was adorned with a couple of drawers near the TV set. It was bare alike the bookstore across it. There were no rugs on the tiled floor, nor any frames hung on the walls.

She went back to the kitchen and checked the contents there. There were two bags of chips and canned goods. In the fridge was a pack of half-eaten burger, three full water bottles and one half-empty, and six cans of beer. Her stared lingered on the tins. She’d really rather not discover she was an alcoholic. She wasn’t, was she? Well, that was yet to be added in the growing list of unanswered queries.

Walking away, she headed for the hallway leading to three doors when something caught her eye.

It reflected everything was part of its scope. A replica of what was in front.

A mirror, she recognized.

She didn’t feel her legs moving but suddenly, she was in front of it. It was like looking at a person that you’ve never met in your life but somehow, this person was someone you know. And that alone, was crazy enough.

Brown eyes stared right back at her and when she slightly turned her head, it turned slightly more honeyed than a nut brown. Her skin reflected her eyes, brown and tanned. Her body was lean but not thin. There were muscles bulging underneath her white shirt when she flexed her biceps. Albeit not much, but present. Her collarbones were defined, waist curved, long legs accentuated by her denim shorts. Her hair was a dark brown in the roots and faded to a dirty blonde as it reached down the tips near her ears. Her lips were chapped and dry, nose a bit low-bridged, and there were a couple of blemishes she noticed on her face.

The sight of her tugged something inside. She had great control thus far and she wanted to pride herself with that fact. However, seeing herself finally and realizing she didn’t know this person, the truth was shoved harder on her.

Her eyes were wide in shock at the sight of her own reflection and her hand quivered as she raised it up to touch her face. When her fingertips traced the outline of her features, a tear dropped down her cheek.

She flicked her lashes and the dam broke.

Falling unto the floor, she buried her face unto her knees and silently cried.

Fifteen minutes later, she found herself wandering near the three doors. Her cheek was dried and her eyes no longer brimming of tears. It felt unjust and suffocating—being in an unfamiliar place, surrounded with unfamiliar things, and having an unfamiliar body. Yes, unfamiliarity was suffocating.

But she, nevertheless, had wiped the tears off her face and had picked herself up from the floor.

The hallway was narrow and small. There were three wooden doors on the same side which irked her brow up. Three doors? Was she living with others, then, assuming this was her place? Torn between anxiety of a new presence or hope for answers, she decided it’d be best to have people she’d apparently known. Her eyes lit up in that thought. The positive energy continued to lurk around her that she didn’t even frown when the first door resisted against the mechanisms that kept it locked.

The second one was in a similar state. The third, however, clicked open the first turn of the knob. A gasp escaped her as she pushed the wooden door wide, and darkness greeted her. The room was significantly dark than outside. She wandered her hands on the wall near the door and when she felt what she thought was a switch, she flicked it up. A single-sized bed was at the center with white and grey sheets and duvet. Dark-hued nightstands stood on each side. On the left was a window covered in a curtain, hindering any of the sun’s rays from entering. On the right was a gray desk with a swivel chair. The furniture was bare, save from a single item. Beside the table was a wardrobe, but that flew past her attention.

She dragged the chair and sat on it, facing the closed-lid gadget on top of the desk.

Laptop. It was a laptop.

How she knew, she didn’t know. But that wasn’t a new thing, was it? Unanswered questions seemed to be the familiarity these moments.

In spite, there was one thing she knew. Laptops can—and emphasize on that word—contain snippets of information about the owner of said gadget. She could possibly be not the owner but who knew what it contained?

As her palm touched the smooth surface, her heart thumped in anticipation. The laptop booted open while her fingers drummed on the desk and her leg bounced beneath. When the black screen finally disappeared, everything she looked forward to crumbled in front as she read the words, “Enter password.”

Right. Password. Apparently, there was still something she didn’t know about laptops. Or didn’t remember, at least. Life really couldn’t let her have her way for one time, huh?

She groaned and flicked her teeth. In the end, she closed her eyes. There were people she possibly lived with, weren’t they? This shouldn’t be as disappointing. Her choices were still yet to be exhausted, thus she should be fine until.

She was about to turn around and forget about it when she saw it. There was a circular picture above the bar where the password should be typed, but her stare drifted to the words under it.

The moment she internally read it, Carryn’s lips tugged up—her previous frustration, long forgotten—because for the first time, she finally felt the surge of familiarity. She welcomed the letters in her mouth and the beautiful sound as spoke the word out loud, “Carryn.”

She had no idea why she felt like it was hers to claim, but she’d rather take what was there to take. Whether this name was hers or not, she’d possess it as hers. Although that wouldn’t be too bad as there was a whisper in her mind, telling her that she has a right to claim it.

It was my name.

That was nice, actually—finally having to know something other than saying, I don’t know.

She glanced at the photo above the name. It was of a girl in her younger years. Her soft features accented her youth and Carryn would say the girl was around her teen years. She had a dark, waist long hair tucked behind both ears. She had brown skin and her pink plump lips were stretched into a wide, toothy smile. She was carrying books with both flail arms. Her nose was a bit low-bridged and her eyes—Carryn stopped.

Her eyes were a honeyed brown.

Carryn then noticed all the subtleties of the girl’s figure that were no longer foreign in her vision—the similar form of the jaw line, arched-shape of her brows, bow-shaped of plush lips. She was certain it wasn’t because it was the second time, she inspected it.

“So, I’m really Carryn.”

She should be happy, shouldn’t she? She discovered her name, found a photo of her when she was younger, and had gotten more person to the Carryn then. It was the biggest milestone since her waking.

But as Carryn stared at the photo longer, she spotted all the differences. Teenaged Carryn was young, freshly pretty, and visibly cheerful. A smile as wide as that implied contentment and confidence in her state of life and that was everything that she lost right now. Carryn now wasn’t content nor confident. Her eyes didn’t shine with warmth nor did her tanned face flushed in pink. So much had changed over something she had no grasp off.

Before she lost herself deeper, she placed her fingers on the keyboard and played magician for a while. Only after five pitiful tries did she finally close the laptop and vacate the room.

Carryn settled on the couch. She started to ponder on her condition more for the reason to keep her sanity in check. It seemed as if she wasn’t all too illiterate as she knew a couple of useless facts. For one, she knew of the word illiterate and what it meant; that should mean something at the very least. Two, she knew that apparently the Earth, which was the planet where she was now, revolved around a large ball of fire. She was aware of several things, was able to pinpoint various objects. Albeit there were some that was hard to recognize, she could identify it after some time. The only real problem was her memory. Anything that happened prior to her waking was completely blacked out to her. If she didn’t even remember her face, how the hell was she supposed to recover all those?

“The people I live with,” Carryn paused. They could help.

With that plan in her head,  she was about to lie down the couch and catch some sleep before a migraine rushed back with vengeance, her eyes caught of the metal front door. Her body stilled in movement as she c****d her head to the side.

No one talked about jailing her inside this confine.

Carryn got on both feet and headed for the door. As she reached out her hand to unlock it, something charged through her ears, and she froze. Her head jerked to the source of the sound instinctively and her brows scrunched. Her prior goal long forgotten, Carryn trudged further to the source, her eyes wandering in nothing at particular. At some point, her pinky toe might’ve nudged a leg of a random furniture. At some point, the pain registered in her body. At some point, she winced. But all were passing sensations as she strode.

She ended up in front of the wall where the TV set was placed.

“What the—”

Her words died in her mouth as she heard it again.

It was muffled, barely even there if the silence wasn’t coating in the apartment. It was faint enough to be unrecognizable except for the fact that it was there. Carryn placed her palms on the wall and pasted her right ear on the partition. Her eyes closed as she focused everything on the other side.

What was that?

When seconds passed and that sound remained vague, Carryn was to move away. Until she heard it. Loud enough to travel past layers of concrete. A blood-curling scream that had her skin crawling. Although no words was spoken through that scream, it brought the same message all the same.

Fear.

Great utter fear.

Her eyes were wide as she stared at the wall. She didn’t know she was backing up from it until she felt the armrest behind her legs. Yet she could still barely register what was happening—if she knew—as it went again.

“Honey—!”

“The children—!”

Shouts beyond coherency followed. Bangs and clanks. Shatters. Crashes. Thuds. Rips.

All too happened one after the other Carryn had no time to even move from her place. She knew she recognized some of those sounds—what it meant. Before she could point it out and think, silence stalked over the other side of the apartment. An inaudible clutter might’ve followed and came after was something that rumbled from a chest, but Carryn hardly noticed it.

A soft gasp escaped her.

Her knees buckled down, and she grasped the head rest of the couch behind to share her weight.

What the hell was that?

It seemed to have two people in there. Something must’ve—no—certainly happened that caused the uproar. Along with yells were a bundle of volumes that Carryn could now identify as shattered glass, moved or thrown things with vigor, hastened steps as if running away, and that sound produced at the end of which was at the tip of her tongue. What was that called?

Her head snapped toward the metal front door. Beside it was a small monitor with buttons and small holes she thought was for a speaker. Carryn didn’t know why she did what she did nor know where she got the courage to stand up and walk. But a twitch in her chest told her that whatever it was that happened on the other side would come running to hers.

She tapped the button and the screen lit up.

It showed a front angle of a white wall. Her brows knitted together. What was this supposed to—

Her eyes suddenly expanded as two figures emerged in the frame of the screen. Carryn had no time to react as the first figure was pushed roughly on the white wall. In her hazed mind, she recognized it as human beings but then the second figure that pushed said human contradicted that thought. The creature loomed over the human and her eyes shone in fear. Tears prickled down her eyes as she shook beneath the creature’s grip. It all too happened so quickly. One moment the woman was crying as the creature latched its head to her neck as she flailed helplessly. Her mouth hung open in a loud cry all the while the creature never stopped. The next second, the woman did stop her movements and the creature backed away from her. It jerked its head and its shoulders trembled. It then moved away to the edge of the screen until it was out of the frame. The woman slid down, but before she moved out of the frame, Carryn saw the blood dripping from her neck unto her white shirt, tainting the material with scarlet. Her eyes weren’t closed, her tears undried but her stare was blank and empty. The woman fell, leaving a bloody trace on the wall where her neck was at. The blood dripped down and all Carryn could do was gape.

Carryn’s legs trembled, her eye sockets straining, her lips parting even wider. Her knuckles turned white as she held the wall. Her breathing was labored, almost as if she herself was the one outside. But that didn’t matter. Despite the barrier, Carryn felt as if she was there.

She didn’t understand what was happening, who that creature was, why it killed the woman. There was nothing that made any sense! Carryn felt the cold creeping into her pores, and she shivered. In what, she’d really rather not know.

Thinking anything crazier than that could happen was near impossible but that thought instantly stopped its tracks as something even crazier did happen. Carryn staggered backwards, her soles barely making any sound as her mouth shook.

The woman—the dead woman—was suddenly on her feet.

Her eyes were as empty as before, but this time her sclera was peppered with thin red veins that rooted down the eyes’ corners. The wound on her neck remained opened and bloody, but the structure of her neck was off. It was bent in an unusual way to the side. Her bones got prominent, arched in an angle that appeared painful. The skin was no longer its brown shade but rather a very pale white, causing dark veins to be visible as if it was part of the skin rather than beneath.

A sound rumbled from her chest.

And Carryn identified it.

A growl.

And as the woman moved closer to the door, its eyes unfocused, Carryn stepped back in instinct. Her hand shot up to her mouth to stop the words but a whisper broke free from her futile control and, “What the f**k?”

 ———

at this point i think we all know what's happening;)

don't u think that sucks—amnesia x zombie apocalypse. i mean like how unfortunate can she gets? lol but srsly tho we're just at the tip of the iceberg. tell me what you think:))

thanks for reading. always wear a mask and stay safe <3