Amnesia

(Hey, guys! This is a story I've been working on for awhile.. Tell me what you think! )

I felt the rough carpet beneath my fingers as I slowly gained consciousness. Or at least I thought it was carpet. I wasn’t quite sure; I only remember the rough, scratchy material against my delicate skin and the carpet freshener tickling my nose hairs.
Again, I merely thought it was carpet. All the signs pointed toward that conclusion, but I wasn’t able to see it. My eyes seemed to be glued shut by an indescribable substance.
That is until I heard his voice. The voice that seemed melodic and devilish at the same time. I was sure I’d never heard a baritone more beautiful.
“Alyssa? It’s Samuel.” I heard him say the names, but neither rang a bell. But I had a feeling that “Alyssa” was right. “Alyssa” was –no, had to be- me.
Before I could reply or even open my eyes, I felt my body being lifted by his strong-muscled arms. The touch felt familiar; it was almost dream-like.
I heard a door creak as Samuel’s grip loosened. I wanted to fight now, knowing that I was no longer safe in my “carpeted” space. But I couldn’t, for I felt a mattress and crumpled sheets beneath me.
“Alyssa” I didn’t answer out of fear and uncertainty. What if “Alyssa” wasn’t my name? What if “Samuel” wasn’t his name?
“Baby, please answer me. Alyssa… open your eyes.” I had almost forgotten I was stuck in darkness. And now my senses were coming back full force.
My nose was no longer filled with the carpet freshener, and I could smell blood in its place. Were my eyes closed by dried blood?
A wave of fear washed over me as I spoke. “Who’s Alyssa?” Not the question I was aiming for, but it would have to do.
My voice was nothing I had expected. It was a little deeper, rougher than most girls’ voices. Or at least the ones I remembered. The scratchy sound and feeling reminded me of the “carpet’s” texture. The alto sound filled me with more warmth that I had been ready for.
And frankly, I didn’t like it.
Suddenly, I realized how thick the air was with tension. “You’re Alyssa, baby. Don’t you… remember?” His beautiful voice almost broke as I felt his fingers gently rubbing away the residue on my eyelids. His touch felt right, but I knew that it shouldn’t have. I didn’t even know him. Or did I?
“I can barely remember anything,” I answered as my too-heavy eyelids opened slowly. My view was blurry at first, but it slowly came into focus. I tried to rise, but Samuel pushed me back down. “Be careful. Your wound might reopen.”
I had a wound? After hearing his words, I wanted to know exactly what happened. What was my name? How old was I? When was my birthday? How did I know “Samuel”? Did I have any parents? Was I allergic to anything? What exactly had happened?
The questions kept speeding through my mind, but answers never followed.
Actually, the only thing that followed was a migraine.
I reached up to at least lessen the pain, but it only made it worse. The almost dried blood around my temple sent shock through my fingers, past my abdominal region, and to my feet and head. What exactly happened to me?!
I jumped slightly as a curse escaped Samuel. And then I felt a warm liquid run down the back of my head slowly.
That’s when I panicked.
“Why am I bleeding? What happened? Who am I? Who are you?” Before I could yell out the rest of my questions, Samuel placed a hand on my mouth gently.
I turned toward him, ready to fight against anything he said or did against me. But I noticed that his features were too angelic, to sincere, to belong to someone who would do such a thing. Frustrated tears marred his stunning, hazel eyes; his sensibly cut, golden brown hair seemed wet and I could faintly smell shampoo and soap through the blood. His black muscle shirt showed off his muscled arms and chest; it was also exposing his pale, olive toned skin.
“Alyssa, do you really not remember me?” The baritone broke and it almost brought tears to my eyes.
I stress the “almost.”
“No! I don’t remember a damn thing about you!” And I saw it; his eyes darkened as he removed his hand and placed it in his lap. I felt my chest sink and almost break in two as he looked away.
I faintly remembered reading books about this kind of feeling. It couldn’t be love. I didn’t even remember seeing him before.
Then again, I couldn’t even remember my own name.
Either way, I felt like I had to apologize. I felt like all the sorrow he ever experienced was my fault. That wasn’t healthy, was it?
“I’m-“
“You’re Alyssa Eileen Hampton; I’m Samuel Leon Townsend and your fiancé for five months since yesterday. You turned sixteen two months ago.” He sighed as I searched his face for proof of what he told me. From what I could see, he was being more honest than he could’ve dreamed. “And I’ll explain more once we take a visit to Alex.”
Then I saw his eyes grow darker as realization finally hit him. “My brother,” he added with that beautiful voice of his becoming deeper. I had no way of knowing how to react. But there was one question that kept coming at me.
“How old are you, Samuel?” Somehow, the way he shook as I said his name made me want to laugh. Was it an inside joke or something?
“I’m turning nineteen in half a year.” He picked me up again slowly. I was unable to fight because I was preoccupied with another question. Why were we engaged if we were so young? That definitely wasn’t healthy. It was rushed, unethical, and out right stupid.
I watched my surroundings change slowly as he carried me around the strange… house?
The walls were a stunning white while the floor was made of wooden tiles; expensive carpets of oriental heritage covered parts of the narrow hallways; exotic paintings elaborated the walls but only ever other room; and the only appliances I saw –pencil sharpener, book holders, etc.- were made of thick glass.
Who’s house is this?
“This is your father Dr. Eric Hampton’s house. He’s a thirty-seven year old surgeon and your adoptive father.”
Right then, I was relieve to find someone who knewme. I just wished that I was that someone instead of Samuel.
He carried me out the door and down a driveway. It was sunny outside, and I had to cover my eyes to keep them from burning in the heat. Eventually I felt a leather seat underneath me and I could detect the “new car” smell.
“This is our car. I bought it yesterday for our anniversary.” His voice was shaking, but he no longer had tears swimming in his eyes.
I turned from him, not entirely sure if I could handle such a lack of… emotion. But maybe he did that for my sake. Panicking would’ve done absolutely nothing.
When I heard my door shut and I saw him walking around the car with a hand running through his hair, I realized the car I was in was in a word, sublime.
The car was a silver Audi 2008 with a GPS system attached to the radio. How I knew the model and year escaped me, but I didn’t linger on that thought. I just wanted to touch the leather interior.
The smooth feeling of the seat, armress, and even the steering wheel made my hands feel as rough as torn tree bark. Only when I saw Samuel staring at me oddly, did I realize that I was smiling.
I placed my hands in my lap and removed the smile as I stared out of the window. I didn’t know why I was acting so strangely.
Suddenly, I saw Samuel’s hand grab the seat belt across from me. I jumped slightly, but his other had gently held my wrist.
By his touch, I froze and waited for his next move. He leaned a little closer and I could smell the hint of mint on his breath. I unconsciously took in a breath as I felt his steady breathing against the bare skin around my neck.
And then, it was over. I heard a click and he pulled away. I had been so focused on his breathing that I didn’t even pay attention to the seat belt he secured around me.
I let out the held-in breath slowly and listed to him start the engine. The quiet purring of the engine relaxed me as he drove out of the driveway and away from the two story, white house.
The silence was unbearable and I had trouble comprehending it.
The silence brought on thoughts of the oddest kind. I saw a hammer; I also thought of Samuel pulling over and telling me that he loved me and that I needed to escape.
Were these memories or just incoherent thoughts?
Well, I was unable to find out because I felt the car pull over and park. “Alyssa, look at me.” Samuel’s voice wasn’t forceful, but more pleading.
“I looked at him and was shocked to see him only inches away; his beautiful eyes making contact without touching.
I remember only one thought going through my head at the time. I’m not leaving unless you’re definitely going to be there.
“Tell me what’s on your mind,” he said softly. The way he said it made me have a brief déjà vu. Something told me that I would be getting that a lot.
“A lot of things are on my mind.” Okay, I ‘ll admit it. I wasn’t ready to tell him everything that I was thinking. A few things were embarrassing while the others made me uncomfortable.
Besides, I wasn’t accustomed to my eighteen-year-old fiancé just yet.
“Care to elaborate,” he asked as he placed a hand on my shoulder. I felt something come from that touch but thought nothing of it as he gently pushed me forward to examine the back of my head. I winced when he placed something –his finger?- on the gash. Immediately, he removed his hand.
“I can only think of my wound right now.” I wasn’t lying either. My head was throbbing uncontrollable. “I would kill for some Aleve right now.”
I saw out of the corner of my eye, Samuel’s hand run thought his sun kissed mane once more.
“You remember over the counter medication but not your loved ones?” The way he spoke started to make me smile. It was nice to know that my fiancé wasn’t a complete idiot.
But besides that, I remembered that I didn’t apologize before. If I didn’t tell him how sorry I felt, I might go off in his brother’s place.
“Sorry,” I said with a sigh. I felt a sort of burden lift from my shoulders as I watched him unbuckle his seatbelt.
He shook his head as I looked away. “It’s not your fault.” I saw in the side mirror that he was leaning toward me. But it didn’t shake me as much as it should’ve.
“I just feel like I’m supposed to apologize.”
I saw his lips part, but I added before he could protest, “And don’t’ say that I’m not supposed to do anything.”
Silence. It was the loudest thing I’d heard during the lifespan I remember.