A steaming cup of chocolate appeared in front of me. I turned slightly to look at Logan, who gave me a closed-mouthed smile. "What were you thinking?" "In a dangerous and unstable patient..." "Nothing." We sat and talked for hours about the most trivial things in the world, and it felt so good. I felt normal, without worries, without fears. I allowed myself to forget everything that had happened, the pain, the sadness. I wasn't the patient with all those depressing diagnoses; I was just a girl, having a pleasant conversation with the boy she liked. It was already past midnight when I began to feel sleepy. The two of us were facing each other, with our sides against the sofa, our heads resting on it. The intensity of Logan's gaze left me breathless. "Are you sleepy?" I nodded, yawning. "Just a little." "Okay." "Do you really not remember anything about that night?" I tensed up a little, forgetting that he had read my file. "Not much." "You don't remember anything ab
I am so confused. My mind kept racing, asking questions, assuming things, and then dismantling them because they didn't make sense. My head was throbbing with a slight but growing pain. My footsteps echoed throughout the hallway as I hurried to my room. I had run away from Logan after seeing his knuckles; I didn't have the courage to stay, to wake him up and question him. I was too afraid of his answers. There were also those faint memories of unpleasant sensations, of having been touched against my will, and I didn't understand anything. Had that happened? I had never felt so frustrated at not being able to remember anything, but somehow, I had reached my limit, no longer lost in the darkness of things. The people around me had to give me answers. And the first person had to be Jasmine. I walked into my room, closed the door behind me, and saw my best friend sleeping peacefully with her hands on her chest, straight. I had always told her that she slept like a dead person in a c
Seeing that boy a few steps away from me, my head throbbed with pain, a faint memory revealing itself in my mind. I was carrying a box into the kitchen; I couldn't believe we still had boxes after two weeks of moving. Well, part of the fault was with the shipping company. Instead of having all our things in one shipment, they arrived in parts. I placed the box on the kitchen table, letting out a long sigh. Vivaldi's Four Seasons echoed throughout the house; my parents were classical music fans. The doorbell rang, surprising me. We had never had visitors except for deliveries, and those were usually in the mornings, and it was almost dusk. I walked out into the living room to find my parents with the same puzzled expression I probably had. The doorbell rang again, and we all walked to the door, my father peeking through the clear glass on the side of it. He opened the door, revealing three people bundled up in coats, hats, and gloves. An older lady smiled at us, “Hello, we ar
How did I get this guy to fall in love with me? His expression went from concern to confusion and finally understanding. His voice broke the silence. “They already told you.” I nodded, my heart in my throat. “I...” I didn't know what to say; I didn't know why I had this strong desire to apologize. “I'm sorry.” He gave me a sad smile. “You don’t have to apologize; you didn’t choose to forget me.” I could feel the assessment in his gaze. “Are you okay?” Why did they keep asking me that question when they knew the answer? His eyes never left mine. “It's a stupid question, isn't it?” Unable to help myself, I put my hands around his waist and hugged him. He tensed, probably surprised. I buried my face in his chest; he smelled so good. “I still can't remember you completely; I just know who you were in my life, and I'm so sorry to put you through this.” “This is nothing compared to what you're going through, Anaís; you will be fine.” he whispered, kissing my hair. “Besides,
Monday I don't want to think anymore. Is there a way to turn off my brain? To make my mind go blank? I felt completely overwhelmed; I already had enough with everything that had happened, with my depression, my traumas, without adding love complications. I had entered into a love triangle without wanting to, without the slightest intention, and I had no idea how to handle it. Logan… He knew who Adam was; he knew how he would complicate my life if he kept meddling in it, and he didn't stop until he had gotten into my heart. That was incredibly selfish of him. He knew everything I had been through; why make things more complicated for me? His expression when I had closed the door invaded my mind; maybe he didn't do it in bad faith; maybe he just got carried away by his emotions. Anyway, I couldn't help but feel betrayed in some way, mocked. Jasmine, Adam, Logan—they all knew everything, and the only one who walked in the shadows of ignorance was me. Adam... Those black eyes that
FEAR... Fear is treacherous; it confuses you and moves you like a puppet. We always think we will react in a certain way to a situation. If I witnessed a car accident, I would help. If someone were bleeding in front of me, I would attend to them and call for help. As if we really had some kind of control over ourselves in a critical situation, when in reality, you have no idea how you will react, how your brain will move you when feeling threatened or pressured by a stressful situation. Like a puppet... I blamed time for making me slightly forget what it's like to feel fear and how unpredictable it can make me. I am an idiot. The moment the word "Yes" left Mason's lips, confirming the identity of the killer who took the lives of the people I loved most, the second I knew I was one question away from knowing his identity, there was a moment of weakness, a distraction that he knew how to take advantage of. Everything happened so fast that I didn't breathe. Mason extended his b
"So I do nothing? I just keep walking around, possibly talking to the killer without knowing it?" "Ignorance can be bliss, or in your case, your lifeline." "How can you analyze all this so well? How can you know what he's going to do?" Mason sighed. "Because that’s what I would do." -Mason- "No." His gaze met mine. "Someday I will tell you my story when we have eliminated your hunter and we are out of this place." "Is that a promise?" "I'm not a man of promises; I just say what I'll do, and that's it." "It's good to know that you're so convinced about catching the killer." I crossed my arms over my chest. "But why? Why are you helping me, Mason? What do you get out of this?" "Aside from the fun of watching this game between you and the murderer, I do hope to get a deal with the prosecution that put me here." "A deal?" "Yes, when you collaborate on a case as urgent as that of a serial killer, you can ask for things in return." "But the police don't know that you
Mason's words echoed in my mind: "If you have any intention of surviving, you have to be smart, think with a cool head." Maybe I never saw him; the killer couldn't have known that I wouldn't remember him. It was impossible for him to know for sure; no matter how many sedatives he used on me, nothing could give him the assurance that I would wake up and not remember some detail of his face to reveal his identity. "Didn't I see you, monster?" "Has your face never been revealed to me? And in this way, you can be close to me without me knowing." "Who are you?" "Well, the time has come." Jasmine didn't bother to hide the sadness in her voice, and I didn't blame her; I was fighting the lump in my throat. We both stopped in front of the main door of the psychiatric hospital; a taxi was waiting outside to take her to the airport. She had insisted on staying a little longer, but she had already missed a month of school. I couldn't allow myself to complicate her life like that; I would n