The Question

My head still hurts, its like everything I know has been erased. I try hard to remember  things and my surroundings but to no avail. I gaze outside the dust covered window, squinting my eyes to see through it. There appears to be no sign of anyone or anything  at all. Just a grey, dusty road I’ve never seen before. I need to remember what happened. This escape room is suffocating me. I desperately need some air. I walk to the door to open it but it won’t open. I turn to open the window but it won’t budge an inch. I start to get frustrated with my memory loss, furiously trying to open the window to breathe but it is locked…

 

I slump down on the window seat with my head in my hands and begin to cry. “Why can’t I remember anything?! Where am I?!” My hands form fists and I bang them hard against my legs. “Who am I?!” I roar…at the old, slightly cracked mirror hanging on the wall.

As I begin to calm myself, I notice the corner of a small box protruding from under the bed that hadn’t been there before. I bend and sink down like an accordion to retrieve it. “What’s in this?” I ask myself. It looks familiar. I sit down on the bed with my legs crossed under me and I open the box to find a number of unusually assorted items: a receipt for two hot chocolates at Butlers café, a miniature glass swan, a small envelope with the words “To My Besto” written in pink pen with a heart underneath and a single, dried up rose hidden under other pieces of crinkled paper. 

I pick up the receipt first. The print displaying the time and date has faded out too much to read. “I remember..I remember I love hot chocolate!” I exclaim to the emptiness of the room. I feel a sense of relief as I recollect that I had gone to that café to meet someone…a friend maybe? Someone who also loves hot chocolate? I wish I had some hot chocolate now to share with that person..

I pick up the glass swan next. I almost laugh at how tiny it is. Its about the size of a small chestnut. I gaze at its delicate structure and think someone must have given this to me. I couldn’t have bought it for myself. I love trying to hunt down these types of gifts for friends but I never can find them. Or at least ones I can afford. Did I have friends?..I stare through the transparent blue wings. “Aha! It must be a gift from a friend..Its too special not to be” I say to the swan. I wish I could repay that person and give them something as beautiful as this.

I open the envelope and smile as I read the card inside. “So I do have a few friends after all” I whisper to myself. I remember when I was moving to another country one of my best friends gave this card to me to wish me well in my new adventure. “Wait..one of my best friends? I must have more then!” I wish they were here with me now, I miss them like the deserts miss the rain. 

The rose. Its deeply faded in colour. The petals seem like it was once a dark red or pink. The leaves and the stem are murky green as if it was dipped into a swamp. It has long since been pressed in some sort of book judging by the flatness of the petals. Suddenly, it hits me. I sit in silence, staring blankly at nothing and breathe their name. A painful crack splits my heart in two. The night of the birthday…the tight hugs…the bouquet…how they took my heart so deeply…and crushed it like it was nothing to them without a proper answer…It all comes back to me now. My eyes and my heart are flooded with tears as I remember everything…Maybe they didn’t know how much I loved them…maybe they didn’t even know who they were themselves to give me a straight answer….Why did I keep this?

The door suddenly swings wide open thumping against the wall and a person I don’t know runs over to me, flustered and confused. He is tall, a sturdy looking man of whom looks like he is in his early twenties. He tells me it is Earth’s final hour, that the apocalypse has happened! “Not surprised, it already started for me years ago Mister…?” I say with a pause. “Johns” he replies briefly whilst rooting through the previously locked wardrobe. “Mister Johns”.. I repeat to silently to myself to remember. “What exactly should we do? Where do we go?” I ask. Johns gazes at me intently and takes my hand in his. His dark hair, is it black maybe..is it brown? I can’t tell from the lighting in the room. His eyes are as clear as the sky and blue, the kind of blue you can only see in the far Mediterranean seas….and his hands, they are so strong but gentle. He’d actually be handsome without all that dirt on his face.

Johns shakes me out of my reverie as he says “Hey are you listening? Anywhere is better than here, so come with me. You won’t last a second here on your own.” I pull my hand away and sharply tell him I can survive anything, “I’m tougher than I look!” “Fine Miss, I believe you..” he says. He looks outside the dusty window and shudders. “..but we have to hurry before the next firestorm* rains down on us, its our only chance!!” I hesitate but decide to go. Anywhere IS better than here. I grab the box from underneath the bed clutching it tightly to my chest. “Whats in the box?” he asks. I ignore him, walking swiftly past towards the door. 

I turn my head to take one last look at the room I don’t know. I probably never will know how I ended up here at this rate. I stare ahead in a state of shock at the wreckage of outside. Cars have aged and rusted, some have crashed into each other. Shards of glass lay out along the road. Most of the pathway has been covered in rubble. Bits of everything seem to be scattered all over the place. No sign of life. “What happened to this place?” I ask him. Johns doesn’t answer me for a moment, only to instruct me like I am some dumb damsel in distress. He looks up at the sky so I gaze up too. For some reason it has gotten even more bright outside and I can barely see his silhouette. “Miss, we need to go, NOW! I’ll explain everything later!” Johns rattles. “Grand, please do. And I’m not a Miss by the way, I do have a name” I state to him.