19: Never thought

I'd been hearing the crazy rhythm of my heart beating in my ears ever since I was brought in this room.

Why?

It was because of this one old woman in front of me right now. She had been staring at me for quite a long time and I just couldn't move. She was scaring the hell out of me and she got me completely glued to my place. Literally.

Her bright violet eyes, again, were really big and scary though she was already old. Maybe in her fifties or something. She had curly brown hair tied up in a messy bun, and she wore something semi-formal: a white blouse with a black blazer, then pants.

My eyes landed at the guy sitting like a boss on the red sofa near us. He was just watching us, I could even sense like he was enjoying seeing me being uncomfortable with the old woman's stare.

Well, this morning, I was woken up by rapid knocks on the door. They were really continuous and loud and it just irritated the hell out of me since it was still five o'clock in the morning. So I just climbed off my bed and went for the door, unlocking it with the password I whispered to it, and that was it.

Chaos just showed up saying that he would bring me somewhere, I insisted on changing my clothes first. Well, I was too tired to even get myself cleansed up before sleeping. The hell I care with my hygiene after all these crazy things.

In the end, I still went here my presentable clothes.

"I'm Theresa." The woman suddenly talked, destroying the awkward silence. "Your Chaos's friend, right?"

Before answering, I glanced at him. Now, his arms are crossed as he stared straight at me. Those eyes were just really intense I couldn't stand staring at him for long.

What's up with the stares of these people?

I looked away. "Uhm... No." I hesitatingly answered her.

The woman, or Theresa, raised her eyebrow and looked behind her, facing Chaos. "Then, where is the woman you brought yesterday?" she asked which made me react quickly.

My eyes shifted to his direction again. The damn guy just annoyingly sighed, he was just going to answer the woman's question but I spoke before he could even do.

"I am the one he brought yesterday. What I mean is that I am not his friend." I quickly explained to the woman as I looked at him again. This time he just rolled his eyes.

"I actually just met him yesterday when he... helped me."

"Oh." Theresa just said as she raised an eyebrow again. She finally moved away and walked over to a desk with a lot of books and papers on top of it.

"Well, then. It doesn't matter now." She said, sitting on the edge of the desk. "What's your name?" She asked as she drummed her fingers on top of her desk.

I couldn't stop myself from gulping. I just really felt uncomfortable, not to mention that I was still on the same spot. Completely glued.

"M-Morisette Valentine." I licked my lips as I wandered my eyes around the small room, trying to distract myself.

"Nickname?"

"Mori... or Seth."

"Hmm. Okay, Mori. What's your problem?"

I gulped again as I slowly faced Theresa. I couldn't answer her. I didn't even know what I should tell her. I just looked down to her shoes, pressing my lips in a tight line.

"Nothing, really. I just want her get checked." Chaos, instead, spoke up for me. He got up and walked toward us.

"She began seeing the fiends yesterday. Means that she just got her scar," he then grabbed my arm and pulled me toward Theresa. We stopped when I was already in front her. My eyes went wide when I realized that Theresa was again staring intently into me.

After a few moments she finally averted her gaze and jumped down from her desk. "So, what you want me to do is to treat her scar, am I right?"

Chaos answered. "Exactly."

"Fine." She then faced me. "Now where did the Fiend put your scar?" She asked as she went toward a drawer and began finding things.

I narrowed my eyes at her questioningly. "Excuse me?"

"Did a Fiend attack you?

"With an 's'... and yes.."

"Where?" She had now with her a bottle with something jelly-like thingy inside, a needle, and a thread. Gauze, some cottons and so. It was like she was going to operate somebody, and I stared wide eyed at those items.

I quickly backed away, shaking my head with a look of horror on my face. Well, operations and the like were never really my thing. "Are you going to use those on me?" I unbelievably asked her.

But instead, the one who answered was Chaos. "It depends on your scar." He was back relaxing on the couch while reading a book. "Now, don't act like a little girl and just be obedient. Show Theresa your scar."

I tilted my head. "No way! I hate those things! Besides I don't even have a wound or... a scar or something." I protested.

"Don't be stubborn, Morisette."

This time I faced Theresa. She was now arranging the things she got on her desk. "But I really don't have any."

"You were attacked, right?"

"But I didn't get hurt, okay? None of them were even able to touch me, I swear." I insisted.

I jolted when Theresa put something down on her desk producing a loud thud, she looked at me over her shoulder.

"Since when did you even start seeing these Fiends?" she asked, irritation was obvious in her tone.

I bit my lip before answering. "When I woke up in the kindergarten."

"Nothing touched you or hurt you before you even began seeing them?" she asked again, her brows were creased. I could see wrinkles surrounding her petite face.

"Nothing. When I woke up, feeling strange and all, I just walked around the kindergarten to see if anybody was there with me. Then, when I came by a room there was this doll head that just completely began transforming to something huge and terrifying. Then after that I can already see the fiends around the forest. It's just that." I explained to her. But she was still observing me like hell.

Then Chaos suddenly butted in. "Look. It's impossible to get the scar if nothing even gave it to you."

I just shook my head, feeling so confused. "What the hell is that scar that you guys are talking about? Can you please just explain everything that's happening to me now before you ask me all these stupid questions?"

"You surely don't remember anything?" Chaos asked, looking at me as if he was searching something that could give him answers.

I furrowed my brows, "Well, what's even there to remember? I don't know, okay? I just don't know."

"Why don't you remember anything?" I just stared at him. I didn't know what to say. He pressed his lips in a tight line before looking down to his book again. "Not... not even your family? Home? Or what happened before you woke up? Or how d'you even get there?" what he just said made me think more about what really happened.

The guy was right. How did I even get there in the kindergarten? I didn't remember any that I went to that place. For all I know, it was just my first time seeing that place. Never even heard about it. I closed my eyes, "I'll completely be honest with you." I paused, " I don't know how I got there. Don't ask me, neither I know the answers to your questions." I told him, shaking my head.

"What about your family?" For a moment, my body froze. It just got me thinking.

"They're... not at home because my step-brother got on an accident. That's just... what I remember," I just said so everything would come to an end. But deep inside, I knew there was something that was missing from my memory, and I didn't tell them.

Chaos was just about to say something again when Theresa said something that really made my ears warm up.

"Take off your clothes."

My eyes widened, "What? N-no way, why would I?" I asked her but she seemed to just ignore my question and said, "Get out, Chaos."

Chaos didn't protest, he just lazily put down the book on the sofa and started walking toward the door.

"No. Why won't you just believe me? I don't have the scar that you are talking about!" I tried convincing her but it still had no effect on her. All I got was her freaky stares.

She was walking closer me. She stopped when she was just a feet away from me. This time, instead of staring into my eyes, her stare went down. "Can you tell me what this is then?"

That was when a cry of pain made its way out of my mouth.

Theresa just stuck her finger into something on my right chest. I didn't know what it was, but as she stuck her finger even deeper, blood began gushing out of it, wetting the fabric of my top with fresh crimson blood. The pain was still there, I could still feel her finger touching my flesh, I'd been cursing a lot as I felt the warmth of my blood flowing down my skin.

The unbearable pain stopped when Theresa finally stuck her finger out my chest. But it still left the sting her finger brought.

I quickly touched my wound and put slight pressure on it to stop the bleeding. I just glared at the old woman as she shook off the little blood that clung onto her index finger. "Why did you do that?!" I yelled at her, eyes wide. 

She didn't answer me, instead, she grabbed my shoulder and that made me wince. She wasn't gentle and it slightly brought pain to the wound I never even thought was there all this time. She dragged me until we were at the other side of the desk. She made me sit on her chair, and I couldn't protest.

I knew she was going to treat my wound. And I hate to admit it, but I badly need it. "You were so stubborn that I had to do that. It ain't my fault, young lady, it was yours." She removed my hand from my wound. I looked down at it, there was even a hole right on top of it. I know it was because of her finger. Just how deep did it get down my flesh? It freaking hurt like hell!

She pulled my tank top down until it was just enough for her to see. I looked away, I didn't want to see the blood. Why was she even so brute that she had to dig her finger down to my wound? She could've just told me.

A few seconds later, I felt a cool liquid being poured down my wound. It took me quite a moment to feel the unbearable sting it sent me.

I couldn't help but grit my teeth together to stop my cries from slipping out my lips and clutch the armrest of her chair, my nails digging in. It was just so painful! She just poured alcohol onto my wound! And it was a million times painful than just damping a cotton dipped in alcohol on simple scratches on your skin. I groaned, "I don't even know where I got this wound." I muttered as I suffered with the sting the alcohol had brought.

When I felt something cool and soft on my wound, a cry slipped out again. "Nah, don't worry, child. This won't take any longer than you expect." For a moment, I actually believed that woman.

But as time went by, I asked myself if this woman was even serious about what she said, or if she was only being sarcastic. Because it took a damn lot of time before she was finally done treating my wound. I guess she was even the one who made my wound even worse for what she did.

But, my only concern here was my memory.

Dang it! Why was my mind so messed up?