Mostrando las entradas con la etiqueta memories. Mostrar todas las entradas
Mostrando las entradas con la etiqueta memories. Mostrar todas las entradas

miércoles, 28 de octubre de 2015

Bad holiday

   It had always been a mystery to her why so many men ran to help her when she needed something. They always did that and she guessed it was due to her looks but she had never done a proper effort to look good. She thought that made her a bit of a bitch, not realizing what she looked like. But the truth was she didn’t care and she sometimes thought the attention could get to be very annoying. In that moment, it was good because she had to come down from the boat to the beach, so she appreciates the two guys that helped her. She could have spared the looks that were more accurate for wolves than for men, but she didn’t say anything. She just kept on walking, her small purse on one hand and her hat in the other. They had been on an excursion near the island, watching the reef.

 Mia was having a holiday alone, far away from anyone she knew. She had always dreamed of visiting the French Polynesia so she had used practically all of her saving to come. The excursions and the food and most things were included in the price so she didn’t have to worry. The thing was she always made money even if she wasn’t doing anything. That’s because she had invented this kitchen utensil that many people were using now, so every month they paid her a part of the winnings and it was good money. She had made the invention one night, not drunk but almost. She always told another version of the story because it wasn’t really glamorous to talk about how much she vomited that night. So she changed the story to a simpler one and people loved her.

 Thanks to them, she was there: walking slowly through the beach, feeling the soft granules of sand on her feet. The sand her wasn’t coarse and annoying like in other beaches and Mia liked that because she had always loved the ocean but had rarely found places to fully enjoy it. When she was young, she used to love to pack all of her toys and the do a castle and make all her toys live there. Her parents and brother would help and it would be one of the best days of her life. But those trips were just a memory now. She thought she could ask her parents and brother to come with her to the beach one day, but they would probably say no. After all, they all had different lives now.

 She had to stop walking, as a tall-bronzed man blocked her path. She smiled at him and kept walking, passing by his right. The man had a stupid face and thought Mia would fall for him as soon as she had seen him in his swimwear but Mia hadn’t even notice. She didn’t wanted to talk to Hugo, who was one of the entertainers of the hotel and been asking her for a drink since she had arrived there. He was relentless and always asked for the same thing, during breakfast, lunch and dinner and in between too. It wasn’t that he was ugly or something because he was what most people would call “perfect”. But she just wasn’t interested.

 The truth was Mia had a lot on her mind. Many thought it was because of a man and that offended her deeply. When people thought she was just a thing to be used by someone else, she just got furious and, it a really bad mood, she would answer back and not in the best way possible. Mia knew she could be pretty destructive if she wanted so she was training herself to be more at ease, not to snap so easily. So when people thought she looked sad because of a man, she just smiled and moved on, not even acknowledging someone had talked. The truth was that she hadn’t been with a man in quite some time, not sexually nor sentimentally. She just felt she wasn’t ready for that and that it wasn’t really her priority in life but explaining that to so many people would have been exhausting.

 So every time Hugo came to her, she had said no. She would have said yes just to do something different, but she knew Hugo would take it as a triumph and would emphasize that aspect of the whole thing whenever they found themselves outside. And as the hotel was on a small island, she really didn’t wanted to be the one everyone looked and talked about. Soon, she realized she didn’t even need to say yes. The day after the excursion, she woke up later than usual, just wanting to use that day to be on the beach and read or something. She didn’t want to think, just rest a lot, as she suddenly felt extremely tired. As if she had pulled a truck in her dreams, with her teeth.

 She showered fast, put on her bikini and went down to the beach with some fruit she had grabbed from the breakfast buffet the previous morning. She put it in her purse along with a book and her cellphone, where she had tons of games if she ever got extremely bored like in that moment. Mia noticed something was wrong the moment she passed through the reception and did what she always like to do: greet the staff there. She waved her hand but no one responded, one woman even looking at her as if she had done the worst thing possible. She continued to the beach, wondering why the reaction but then she noticed more and more people stared at her and talked, not even interested in covering their mouths.

 Mia adjusted her hat and her purse and kept on going until she reached the beach. She found a lonely spot for her to lay down her towel and sit down. She was about to lie down to close her eyes and just sleep if she could but she was interrupted by the sound of a quarrel. She turned her head and realized it was a man and his wife. They were arguing really loudly and pushing each other, every sentence been louder than the one before. It was beginning to be really annoying so Mia took some headphones from her purse and connected them to her phone. Music would be welcomed during such an event.

 Music wasn’t heard for long. The fight got louder and then she noticed the woman coming to where she was. For a moment, she thought the woman just wanted to walk down the beach in a rage, far away from her husband. But no, the woman stopped right there where Mia was and started talking. Mia removed her headphones only to catch the word “slut”. She stood up and asked the woman if she needed help with something and then the woman just slapped her and went away. It wasn’t that it hurt as much as it was about feeling like shit. Mia felt every eye on her and that was even weirder when she still felt the slap and she saw the husband not doing anything, just standing there like and idiot.

 She went back to her towel, still massaging her cheek. She turned her head around to see if someone was still looking and they weren’t but some were laughing and obviously describing what had happened. Mia then felt really bad and about to cry, mainly because she felt she was alone but she fought her need to cry and decided just to lay down there and try to sleep. She would go to her room after that and just ask for her lunch to be delivered there. She did manage to rest for a while until two people from the management came to speak with her. They woke her up in the rudest way possible and asked her, more like demanded her, to join them in their office in the act.

 Mia walked right behind them, her towel on one arm, her hat on one hand and her purse on her shoulder. She felt her sandals filled with sand but she hadn’t had time to properly clean them. They walked past the reception again and then arrived to a door that they opened with a key only available to the staff. There were several offices behind that door, all with now windows, like in a bunker. They reached an empty one and asked her to sit down. She was there, they said without delay, because a woman staying at the hotel had denounced her as a threat to the peace of the people there. Mia was about to say she was also a guest there but they kept on talking, saying how seriously they took these allegations, citing how conservative people of the region were.

 Suddenly, Mia had a flashback to dozens of women with no tops of and a boat they called the “orgy yacht”. But she didn’t say anything about that. She just bore with them, as they said all they had to say. Finally, she was able to speak and said that if they expelled her they would be sued, as everything that had been said about her was a lie, probably invented by a man that felt bad because she wouldn’t say yes. She asked them to provide proof that she was as they thought she was. If they did she would leave and if not she would stay the week, would she had paid for. They just looked at each other and let her go.


 Some people still looked at her as if she was insane and a pervert. Others tried to apologize but she just stood up and went away. People were always too fast to pass judgment but they never really thought before acting. Mia stayed there the week she had paid and then just disappeared, leaving very late at night and preferring to sleep at the airport. She wanted the holidays to be done as soon as possible.

jueves, 6 de agosto de 2015

Pomp and Circumstances

   Every single member of the staff was very nervous. It was well known by them that when the McAllen family decided to visit, it was a trying moment for the hotel and everyone in it. But the McAllen’s were very rich and they knew they could use that kind of clients. Rich people were not coming to the hotel anymore, or maybe to the region… Anyway, not many wealthy heirs and heiresses wanted to visit Lake Flora in the summer. Other vacation spots had become more popular and the lake had lost some of its former splendor. But the McAllen’s were a family of traditions and they had come to the lake every year for sixty years, so they weren’t going to break that custom.

 The day they arrived, every single staff member had to stop whatever it was they were doing and just run to the main hall and line up on either side of the red carpet they had installed exclusively for the event. The other guests, which were not many, had been barred from the main hall and had to use the service elevator in order to get to the their rooms or from there to anywhere else in the hotel. Some of them complained but as none of them were as rich and famous as the McAllen’s, their opinion was not very important. That sounds awful, especially when the hotel always cared about every single guest with care. But this time it was different because the McAllen’s were the difference between a definitive closure of the hotel or their permanence in the business.

 When they arrived, everyone was as still as a statue but that didn’t mean that people weren’t excited or curious. After all, it had been a year since they had been there for their last visit and many staff members had entered the hotel after that so they were really excited about meeting people that were practically royalty. If nobility existed in any way in this country, the McAllen’s would surely be a very important and powerful family, maybe even more that they already were. Arthur McAllen, the main figure, had made his family richer by buying several mines around the world as well as having an almost complete monopoly on several markets such as bananas, sugar and tea.

 He was the first one to come in and every single staff member had to bow as he passed. Mister McAllen seemed overjoyed and the first thing he said to the hotel manager was that the place was as beautiful as he had always remembered. He congratulated everyone and moved on to the main counter. After him, came Lady McAllen. She was a true noblewoman, daughter of a duke from England. Her father owned several newspapers. She walked among the people, greeting some of them. And then came the children. The girl was already a women, very beautiful but visibly very annoyed by the whole concept of spending her holiday in the lake. She rushed over the red carpet and joined her parents fast.

 The young boy that followed him was ecstatic. He looked at everything, greeted some of the staff and asked a kitchen maid if she knew if there were monsters in the lake. She laughed at the comment but the hotel manager gave her a look of disapproval, which stopped her laughter. The last person to come in through the door was the mother of Arthur McAllen. Everyone in the region and the country knew Callista McAllen very well. She had been the wife of a governor that years later became prime minister. And he had been a particularly bad prime minister. Many people said he had died of an illness related to madness but no one was really sure. The truth was every staff member looked at her, interested by her story.

 The older woman crossed the red carpet, oblivious to the preparations for their arrival, getting to her son and demanding him for a bed in order to rest her feet. A waiter gave each one of them lemonade, made with fruit grown in the hotel surroundings, and then several younger bell boys rushed outside and started taking the luggage to the presidential suite. They all signed the guest book and then the manager asked Arthur McAllen if he would like to pose for picture. It was kind of a tradition of the hotel, so the family complied although only the men were happy to do it. The women looked annoyed and tired. So the photographer, who happened to be the groundskeeper, had to do it fast.

 Moments later, everyone was in the presidential suite, their empty luggage in a big closet and all their clothes and belonging in drawers and closets all over the room. The place was very overwhelming, if one wasn’t very used to the golden glow of its walls and the overpowering smell of the perfume used when the maids cleaned up the bedroom and bathroom. It was just too much for every one except for such a wealthy family as the McAllen’s. The women decided to rest and retired to their rooms. The men changed clothes and decided to take a walk. When they arrived to the hall, the red carpet was no longer there or staff members. Everything was back to normal. But they didn’t really pay attention. They just crossed the main doors and went outside.

 Arthur and his son walked towards the lake and there, the father would tell his son several stories about the monster that many had claimed lived beyond the surface of the lake. Some said it had wings, some others said it was like fish but huge in size. Father and son threw stones at the water as they shared stories about the mythical beast. They also explored the woods around the hotel and discovered the place were the lemon trees grew high and mighty. For Arthur, this place brought the best memories from his childhood and he wanted to past that on to his son.

 But his wife and daughter weren’t as happy to be there. The next day, her wife refused to have breakfast in their private dining room, and preferred to eat alone in their bedroom. The daughter wasn’t a much easier person to handle, especially because she did come out of her bedroom. In just a few hours, the staff had come to hate her even more than any other guest in their time there. She was bossy and very rude for such a rich family. She would tell them how to do their chores, even as she had never moved a finger in her life to do anything. And she tired everyone by always saying that her future husband was a commander in the army and he would have the power to improve this lost region and make it productive, instead of just a place for old people to catch some sun.

 But the elderly person in her group would not have agreed. The oldest McAllen was maybe the nastiest and that was because she insisted, every morning in sitting in the main table of the dining hall down in the ground floor. She wanted to seat where her dead husband also sat when he was governor and prime minister. The thing was Callista McAllen had lost it several years ago. Her son was too kind and didn’t want to realize it but she was losing her mind by the minute and she was becoming more and more demanding and rude because of it. She even attempted to hit a waiter on the second day because he had delivered her tea colder than she liked it.

 And the McAllen’s never apologized. The waiter had to leave for the kitchens immediately and he was relocated to another part of the hotel, were he would not be affected by Callista’s insanity. Besides minor incidents like that, everything was going very well with the McAllen’s summer stay. The manager love to do the counts of how much money he would win by the end of the season. He was relieved more than happy because it was not mystery that the hotel was going under: there was not that much money to pay every single person that worked there and attendance had been so low that year that they had even though of closing for some time. That’s why the McAllen’s had to be treated like royals.

 But then one night news from the capital came in and everyone was awoken by the man carrying the letters, because it wasn’t just one but many. He demanded to see Arthur McAllen, who had to be woken up and rushed into the ground floor. There, the man gave him all the letters. And every single one of them told exactly the same story: their neighboring country had attacked a border post and then a whole border town. It was war and the government had demanded for the wealthy to help them in this hour of need. McAllen asked for a pen and paper to write his response, that he was going to give all the money he could to the cause. But the man that had brought the letters stopped him and told him that not only they required his money, but his presence to in the battlefield.


 Everyone in the hall became mute. And it was the first of many silences they would hear for the following years. The war grew larger and more and more lethal. Arthur McAllen would die months later, as well as the commander who was going to marry his daughter. The hotel closed indefinitely the following winter and no one would ever hear about Lake Flore until after the war, when it would become synonym of madness, as the hotel was bought by the ministry of wealth fare and then transformed to an asylum. The McAllen tradition and dynasty died in the war, as the women died of sorrow and the men of war.

domingo, 2 de agosto de 2015

Wake me up

   Martha Grayson woke up. The first thing she felt was the morning wind and its chill. In a second, she realized she wasn’t at home, as she was meant to be. Her eyes opened slowly due to the glare of the sun, which was just above the tree line. She could smell the humidity of the grass and could also hear the quaking of some nearby ducks. She realized, as soon as she opened her eyes, that she couldn’t move. She felt weak and overpowered by her own weight and by something in her head that acted as a restraint. Attempting to move her legs or arms hurt her but as she did, she realized another fact about her condition: she was fully dressed and covered with a big overcoat.

 She inhaled slowly and exhaled in the same way. Martha did this for a while until her legs and arms became responsive and she was able, very slowly and with pain, to seat on the grass. As she sat down, she felt tremendously dizzy and very thirsty. Her mouth felt very dry and needed to drink water badly. She realized that the humidity she had detected came from the grass, which was covered in sprinkles of water. Rain had fallen the night before. And, not very far away, there was a small pond were the ducks she had heard were swimming. But then something else kicked in: she realized she didn’t know the place she was in. It seemed like a park, with tall trees all around and no people. She felt the urge to vomit but held it in order to better understand what was going on.

 With the little strength she had inside, Martha was able to stand up and walk towards the trees. She stumbled against one of them but leaned on it and inhaled deeply, as if she was about to swim. Her mind was becoming clearer but only to think, not to remember. She tried but when she did so there was nothing there. She couldn’t say how it was that the last thing she remembered was lying down in bed in her Boston apartment and now she was in some park that she had never seen. Breathing slowly, she started walking and crossed a lot of lined trees until she reached a larger pong but this one had a particular shape and she realized she did know this place but from movies and pictures. She had never been there before.

 Martha was standing by a pong that had the shape of a cross. She was on the point of the cross and, on the other side; she could see people walking by. It was a bit misty but she could distinguish a palace beyond the people and some stairs. Anxious, she almost ran, passing some people who looked at her worried. She reached a big fountain where many people were taking pictures and looked up the stairs. Her head felt about to explode but once again, she decided to breathe slowly and move on. Martha went up the stairs and was faced to a magnificent building. Yes, she did know what building it was. It was a palace and she was in Versailles, in France.

 Again, she had the urge to vomit but contained it. An elderly woman and her husband came near her and spoke French. She had no idea what they said but the woman offered her a bottle of water, which she drank hastily and almost completely. She apologized in English and asked them where the exit was. They seemed to understand because they pointed towards the palace. She thanked them and left rather fast. She ran past some tourists and through a gift shop and a few moments after she was running down a square but she stopped suddenly, realizing she had no idea where to go. She checked her pockets and realized that she had no money, bank notes or coins. Nothing.

 She decided to approach some tourists and asked them in English to help her with some coins as she had lost her husband and wanted to call him to his cellphone. Of course, the story was a fake but many people, seeing the state she was in, decided to help her and in no time she had at least five euros in her pockets. She thanked her last helper and headed for a store but then she saw a sign pointing to the nearest train station and realized it was best if she got to the city, to the embassy if necessary. She didn’t want to overthink her situation, but it had to be something the authorities of both countries would be kind enough to discuss. So she headed for the station and bought a ticket for downtown Paris.

Martha didn’t have to wait much for the train. It was almost empty, as it was too early for anyone to go into the city. Tourists were just arriving and she was the only foreigner leaving the small town. She sat down far from anyone else and, as she saw the French village and some buildings, she tried to remember. Her name was Martha Grayson. She was thirty-four years old; she had a fiancée called Michael Gregson and a dog named Larry. Her parents had died several years ago in a car crash and she worked in a back as an accountant. The last day she remembered in full had been a great one: Michael had invited her to a very nice restaurant and had asked for her hand in marriage. She had cried and they had celebrated with champagne.

 But then, when she tried to remember what had happened after she had arrived home, she realized that nothing was there. Martha knew she had come home, called her best friend Ellie and then went to bed early in order to wake up early in order to go shop with Michael for their rings. But if that had happened at all, she had no idea. The next thing she remembered was waking up in that park, with different clothes that the last day she remembered. The train went into a tunnel and the lights flickered, which made her come back to reality and think about what it was she was going to do next. The smartest thing was to go to the local police and tell them she had been abducted… or something like that.

 The train stopped at Invalides station, which seemed to be an interchange. Martha supposed the police would have a post there or something. But maybe it was too early or she had made a wrong turn because the next thing she knew was that she was on the street. She started walking towards an avenue and tried to talk to people but they seemed much less receptive than the tourists in Versailles. If she was correct, it was a weekday and Parisians were getting to their jobs. So there was no wonder about way they were being so aggressive and not helpful. She tried to find a cop but there were no security agents nearby. She decided to cross the Seine and look for the embassy by herself. She supposed it had to be near all the central places and she thought she was just there.

 But as she crossed the Alexander II Bridge she saw someone that made her head hurt more than anything else before. It was a very blonde and tall woman and she looked lost too, even more than her. She felt she could remember her from somewhere but the memory had apparently being lost. Trying to focus on the moment, she walked towards the woman but before she did the blonde collapsed and was surrounded by scared people and then the police finally arrived. The only thing Martha was able to see was the fact that the women had some sort of foam coming out of her mouth and was convulsing before she finally stopped all movements. It was the most horrible thing Martha had ever seen.

 Shocked but scared, she walked to a cop and tried to make him understand. He didn’t know English but his partner did and she asked him, or better yet, begged him to take her to the embassy. She was so worried that her head began to turn wildly and blood started coming out of her nose. The next thing she remembered was waking up in a hospital bed, as weak as before. She looked at the window and realized it was night. She was scared again, thinking she might have been kidnapped again or that maybe it was all some sort of dream or a sick joke. Then the door flung open and a young woman entered, smiling at Martha.

 She sat down slowly and didn’t stop smiling. When Martha tried to talk, she was the one to speak first. Her name was Linda Hamilton and she worked with the American consulate in Paris. They had been called by the local authorities, which told them a woman who claimed to be an American national had fainted after witnessing the death of another woman. Then, Martha started telling her story and Linda didn’t stop her. She just listened and registered every word Martha said, as if she was a computer. She didn’t say a word until Martha was done and a nurse came in to check her pulse. Her heart was pounding and the nurse injected something in her IV. Martha calmed down immediately and Linda smiled again.


 The woman then told Martha that they had checked her identity. She had been reported missing three days ago in Boston. The woman she had seen on the bridge, and was now dead, was a Latvian national who had died from a compound also found in Martha’s blood but in a much smaller dose. Linda told her that police were suspecting of a serial killer that worked in an international level or maybe some sort of women trafficking ring. But she assured Martha that she had no signs of sexual assault. Linda left and Martha was left alone to rest. But she couldn’t. She had been dumped by someone in a park on the other side of the world and, now that she had woken up, she remembered something more that frightened her: she neglected to tell Linda that there was a face and a voice in her head and she knew who they belong to.

domingo, 5 de julio de 2015

Forgotten

   I had always liked to stay at nice hotels and now I had the chance to do it often do to my job. I paraded around the globe trying to sell them these products and in exchange I got to stay in great cities and beautiful hotels every so often. Of course, there were not five star hotels and were rather aimed at pleasing businessmen and not film stars or something, but I really liked them.

 One time, for example, I was sent to a rather small town but they put me in a big hotel with all the amenities possible. It was five stories high, had a nice view of the airport and even had a pool. So the first thing I thought, even during my meetings with various people that day, was when and how to get into that pool. I had planned to get to the hotel by six in the afternoon and just run to the pool as it closed at seven o’clock.

However, when I was picking up my things n my room, a hotel towel and so on, I got a phone call. It was someone from work but I decided to pretend I was busy or a heavy sleeper and not answered. Actually, I deliberately left my phone in the room as I left it for the pool, which was amazing. The water’s temperature was perfect and I had all for myself. Possibly that was because the hotel was nowhere near top capacity but I didn’t really care. I just enjoyed the moment and swam across the pool multiple times until I decided it had being too much. Strangely, no one had come to tell me to get out of the pool and I was sure it was eight o’clock, at least.

 I went back to my room and the phone was ringing again. I decided to pick up and realized no one answered. The number that appeared on the screen was from one of my bosses but no one spoken when I answered. I hung up and just lay down in bed about to turn on the TV but somehow I got very sleepy in a second and I fell asleep right there. I had a dreamless night and when I woke up I was slightly startled. I thought I had overslept but it was still two hours until I had to wake up to leave for my flight back home. But I couldn’t get back to sleep so I decided to check on the news. Nothing interesting.

 I decided to shower and use all the little soaps and shampoos I could and those I couldn’t I would put them in my luggage. Again, the water was perfect and I spent more than enough time in the shower but because I suddenly felt sleepy again. I had to close the water and lean against the wall to recover. I grabbed a towel but when I did the world had started spinning and I just fell hard to the ground. I did not pass out instantly. My eyesight was blurry and I could feel a presence and some distorted sounds. Just before I feel into a deep slumber, again, I thought I saw something and smelled a very particular scent.

 When I woke up, I wasn’t in my hotel bedroom. I was in another hotel bedroom, more likely a motel. The walls had stains on them, there was a smell of rotten food or something and I realized it was pitch black outside. I concluded I had been kidnapped and, of course, I had missed my flight. People would already be looking for me, as they knew at what time I supposed to be home. I hoped they were looking because that place really felt off. Something was not right and then I smelled the same scent I smelled before I feel asleep naked on the ground of the hotel bathroom. I realized I was now wearing some kind of robe. I checked it and realized it had the emblem of the hotel I had been staying in. Then, the door of the room opened and that smell invaded the small space.

 The door was close and there he was. A tall man, wearing a black hat and a coat. I had never seen him before but he had this look, like what someone would look like after escaping a mental institution. I decided not to say a word and just wait for him to day or do something. But he stayed there, standing up by the door just looking at him. When I tried to move, I realized one of my wrists and one of my ankles, were tied tightly to the bed. I was tied to them with rope. And I was very week suddenly so I decided not to fight against anything. Was this a crazy guy that kidnapped people and killed them far away or was he going to torture me in some gruesome manner that I couldn’t even understand? The thought made me tremble.

 And it was then that he moved, towards me. I saw his eyes more clearly and they are very red, as if he had never been asleep in his life. He was older than I had thought at first and, to be honest; he didn’t seem as deranged as I had thought he was. Still, he didn’t say a word. However it was me who started asking for him to release. The time for waiting for him to act had passed and now I needed to make him understand that maybe I was the wrong target or maybe I could convince him not to kill me. But he didn’t seem to care about what I said. He just looked at me with those red eyes and it was uncomfortable and I just started to get very desperate. I was weak but I pulled and cried from impotence.

This seemed to work on him because he blinked a lot, as if he had been woken up from hypnosis or something. I took advantage of his apparent confusion and started to beg him. I asked him to release me and I swore I would never tell anyone what had happened in that room and what he looked like. I told him I didn’t know who he was or what he was trying to do but that I respected him and wanted him to know I wanted to be respectful of him. All of this came like a waterfall of ideas that just ran out of my mouth as I thought about them. I was desperate but said anything in a very controlled way in order not to seem as crazy as I thought he was. Then, he turned his head and walked towards a table I had not seen before.

 From the table, he took something and took his time doing something to it. I thought that he was going to start torturing me for sure but then he turned around and I realized he held a needle in his hand. Before I could even think anything, he jabbed it on my leg and, once again, I fell into a deep slumber and only felt him go away, maybe out of the room and the scent of rotten food fill the space in my mind. This time I did dream. It was about my childhood and the first boy I had ever kissed. My mind kept repeating the memory like a damaged DVD player or something. I felt anxious and then I woke up and I happened to be back but not in my hotel room but in my home. The first thing I did, after I realized I was still wearing the hotel robe, was to call the police.

 Sure enough, I had disappeared for a whole week. I almost fainted again when they told me. Apparently, I just remembered one day out of seven he had me in his custody. I told everything I could to the police, all bout the guy’s look, the smells, what I could remember about the motel and about the syringe he had jabbed in my leg. They made me go through several medical tests and so on in order to know more about he had injected in me. It apparently was a very strong liquid that made anyone go limp in a heartbeat. So they thought he might be a doctor of some kind, maybe even a veterinarian. But I had never met either, not close at least.

 My mind was just so full of things, of cut memories and of fear. Because I knew he could’ve done so much more to me than he did. He didn’t kill me, torture me and the rape tests came out negative. I had been kidnapped for some reason and the person responsible had done nothing to me. The police did their job, I can’t complain about that, and they found absolutely nothing. They just couldn’t get anywhere with what I knew and with the other few evidence they had. Not even security cameras had registered him into my room and no one anywhere had apparently seen such a man. I got fed up with it all when a psychologist insinuated that maybe I had imagined all of it. Never trusts shrinks, am I right?


 I decided to go back to my work, my home, my life. I was very scared to be alone at home so I bought a dog and a cat and just tried to get by, without ever thinking about what had happened that day. My trips are less frequent now and I just have fun the few times I leave for business. However, I never sleep well in hotels and I tend to spend a lot of time in the bar area. I drink so I can sleep faster and just make the night go more smoothly for me. Since what happened, I can’t stop thinking that maybe I knew him from something, maybe I had met him once and now I didn’t know. But a hypnotherapist didn’t help, as I thought. I’m just never going to know what exactly happened and why and maybe that’s the worst part of it.