Chapter Three

305 Words
| lynette’s pov | I toss and turn in my bed, the words of the pharmacist ringing in my head. I don’t know if I should call him “The Pharmacist” or just “The Guy I Have a Crush On”. Either way, he was nameless. I had no clue who he was. But I could feel it– I know him from somewhere. Maybe I found myself somewhere I shouldn’t be before, and that’s where I met him. I could have had a one night stand with him, and he left in the morning before I woke up. He didn’t leave a letter, so I don’t know what happened to him anymore. Even after all these scenarios– the question remains. “Who is he?” I murmured, gripping the sheets beneath me. Why didn’t I know who he was? Why did he know me? Why can’t I remember anything? The want to know more is gnawing at my chest, and I really do want to know. But I don’t know how to. It frustrates me that I don’t know what to do. I always know what to do. The more I try to figure it out and put the scenes in my head together, the less I’m convinced that it’s true. I can’t rely on my own memory anymore. They were all broken pieces of something whole. What the whole was– I didn’t know either. So I think and think. I find a solution. I sit up. I take a pill from the bottle on my nightstand. I take the glass of water next to it. I drink. I feel better.
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