“Was it a car accident?”
“No, they were murdered.” Storm bust out in tears. She covered her face with her hands. He didn’t know what to do. Should he comfort her? Call a nurse?
“Dear Lord,” was all he could say. He simply sat there listening to her cry. He closed his eyes, and a single tear streamed down his cheek. For some weird reason, her pain had now become his pain. Who would murder a mother, father and brother? What kind of person could do that? Was it for money, or revenge, or something else? Why were all of these damn questions flooding his mind? His eyes flashed open; the room seemed to be getting smaller. He couldn’t breathe; it was like there was no air in the room. He suddenly felt very ill and had to get away.
He bolted from the sofa and ran out of the room. He had to find a way to shut up the deafening, swirling noise in his head. But where could he go? That’s when he saw the door marked ‘Roof Observation Room’. He gave the door a shove to open and bolted up the stairs. Once he reached the top of the stairwell, he saw a glass enclosed observation room. It was empty. He closed the door. He grabbed a hold of his head with both hands and roared at the top of his lungs. His screaming ricocheted off the glass and engulfed him like waves crashing on the beach. “Make the questions stop!” He fell to his knees. “Make them stop! What is happening to me?” Images of people he did not know, places he couldn’t recognize and feelings that couldn’t be explained, joined in the menagerie leading to a torturous crescendo. The battle inside of him was too much to bear; it felt like the thunder of a thousand cannons. All of the suppressed memories and feelings that his mind had built up walls to hold back came flooding out. His head was spinning. He felt sick to his stomach. He tried to get up on his feet, but he couldn’t move. He tried to resist with his entire mind and might but he no longer could prevent it. He grabbed a trash can and vomited until his body finally succumbed and he just lay down. The battle was over, but who was the victor?
Only an hour had passed by; just a small click to the hands of the clock in his life. He opened his eyes. The world was different now. Where was he? He glanced around the glass room. Where was he, oh that’s right, the observation room on the roof. He rose to his feet a bit unsteady yet. He walked over to one of the windows. He moved close enough to see his face reflected in the glass. He moved his head from side to side, each time gazing out of the corner of his eye. He was in need of a shave. He bent even closer to the glass. His eyes were still green, although they looked a bit tired. He made his face contort into an overdone grin. He laughed and his face relaxed again. Staring at the face in the glass, he asked, “Who are you?” With his eyes, he met the eyes of the person reflected in the glass. There was no hesitation. No longer did the specter of doubt rear its ugly head. Unlike the dream he had had a night ago, his face was not blank. His lips parted with a slight grin. “I am Andrew Knight.”
Storm was still sitting on the sofa. She saw the man suddenly get up and rush out of the room. She didn’t know why.
Storm was about to get up and go back to her room, when the man reappeared. He seemed different to her. Unlike before, he was smiling. He briskly walked toward her.
Andrew walked back into the sunroom, fortunately Storm was still there. He smiled at her. Andrew walked toward her.
Storm smiled slightly as he stopped in front of her. He sat down again.
“Tell me about your parents,” Andrew started off.
“What do you want to know?” Storm asked. “Why do you want to know?”
“Listen Storm,” Andrew paused and quickly checked to make sure they were alone. “I’m a private investigator and have been hired by Wyatt’s mom to prove he didn’t murder your family.”
“Wyatt would never do that,” Storm blasted back. She quickly calmed down, “Yeah he was excommunicated from the coven, but he wouldn’t. I mean my father didn’t like Wyatt’s lust for blood or the fact that he didn’t respect the laws by the coven.” Storm’s bottom lip began to tremble and she looked away, “But he would never hurt us or me.”
“Did you see the person who attacked your family?” Andrew asked. He grabbed a tissue from the end table and handed it to Storm. She thanked him. Storm dried her eyes. She turned back towards him.
“No, I was shot in the back.” Storm said. “Want to see the scar?” She started to lift her pajama top.”
“No that’s okay,” Andrew motioned for her to stop.
“When I finally woke,” Storm said. “I dragged myself down stairs. That’s when I saw my family…my family was…” Storm broke down. Andrew gingerly put his arms around her, offering comfort. He held onto her for quite some time and could feel her pain with each sob. He was even more determined to find the person who did this.
“Listen Storm,” Andrew said softly. “Just tell me where I can find Wyatt. I know he didn’t attack your family.” Andrew paused for a second. “Wyatt is the key. He is the link to this Night Blade, whom I suspect murdered your family.” Storm thanked Andrew again, and she sat up.
“Wyatt hangs out at a lot at JFK Prep,” Storm informed him.
“Thanks, Storm,” Andrew smiled. She smiled back. Their respective nurses returned and took them back to their rooms. Life had given him his memory back and in the process, he got one up on Sheriff Delsmann. Today was a great day!
The sounds of gentle, rolling waves and ocean breezes enveloped the room. Soft light from candles and their aromatic scents of lavender wafted about in a relaxing splendor. Megan lay in the soothing water with her eyes closed. She loving caressed her growing tummy; reassuring her unborn child that everything was alright. The hospital, more specifically Doctor Straussman, called to inform her that Andrew was being released this afternoon. So she decided to take a relaxing bath and then get dressed. Megan sat up and pulled the drain plug. She stood and reached for a towel. Megan wrapped it around her and she stepped out of the tub.
Megan walked into the bedroom and sat down at the table and mirror. She put on her makeup, touched up her eyelashes with mascara and her lips with dark blood red lipstick. Megan walked over to the bed and let the towel gently drop to the floor. She checked herself in the full length floor mirror. Megan turned around slowly admiring her nude form. She ran her hand up ever so delicately caressing her body along the way. Megan stopped and cupped her breast. Megan closed her eyes. She imagined it was Andrew touching her as she moaned deeply. Megan opened her eyes and grabbed a pair of black lace maternity panties. She bent down and put them on. Next Megan slipped on a seductive black maternity skirt and spaghetti strap camisole top. It accentuated her curvaceous bosom. One way or another Megan was determined to get her husband back. She took a pair of lace strap black shoes from the closet and slipped them on. Yeah, Megan knew she was way over dressed, but the situation called for drastic measures. She was determined to jolt back Andrew’s memory, and the little black outfit she wore should do the trick.
Megan grabbed the matching purse and her keys. She left the house.
Andrew was really happy to actually put on some normal clothes. He was glad to finally be going home. He had just finished putting on his shoes, when there was a knock at the door.
“Hello Doctor Straussman,” Andrew greeted her cheerfully.
“I still don’t feel it’s a good idea for you to go home so soon,” she protested.
“And I feel that being there might jog my memory,” Andrew shot back.
“Fine,” Doctor Straussman flopped down in a chair. She looked up at him, “You do have my number, right?”
“Yes.” Andrew patted his pants pocket.
“Are you ready?” Veronica entered.
“Do I really need that?” Andrew rolled his eyes when he saw the wheelchair.
“It’s policy,” Veronica insisted.
“Fine,” Andrew took his place in the chair. Veronica wheeled him out of the room. As they moved down the hallway towards the elevator, Andrew would peek into the room with open doors. Some of the beds were empty, others with the sick or dying. He had to go home; he would be forever stuck in this place. The only problem was that he had to keep up the charade in public. It was the only way to keep Sheriff Delsmann off his back. Plus it was the only advantage Andrew had in order to carry out his investigation. If Andrew could convince Sheriff Delsmann he still suffered from memory loss, she would leave him alone. Of course, eventually he would have to regain his memory at some point, Andrew knew that. When the elevator doors opened, Veronica wheeled him inside. As soon as they were set, she pushed the button for the main floor.