"You are my sunshine, my only sunshine. You make me happy when the skies are grey..."
The song reveberated from the radio as we entered Marlon's house. It felt familiar but at the same time, I couldn't remember it. The embers of my mind were blocked, preventing me from riding futher down that lane.
"Your parents really enjoy this song. Ray Charles and Bing Crosby's 'You are my sunshine'." Marlon told me as he led me to his living room.
His bungalow was really spacious with black and red interior. Everything possessed the colour red or black apart from his gold coated chanderliers and grey refrigerator. He sat me on the couch before sitting next to me, holding my hand.
"I've never heard it before but I think I know it. It seems familiar."
"Because it was the lullaby we used to sing to you every single night before you went to sleep," ! heard my mother say behind me.
I stood up as I waited for her to walk up to me. She engulfed me in
"Time heals all wounds, I presume," the interviewer said, warming his butt on my turquoise Serena and Lily armchair in my lounge room. "That's ridiculous. What wounds can I heal when I don't remember a damn thing from my years as a child. The media covered this already. What more information do you want?" I said nonchalantly, blowing at my cigarette. My gaze was fixed on the scrawny man, his short dyed black hair to blonde threatening my breakfast. He took out his notepad and jotted down what I had just said. "There isn't anything to write. We are done here. Get out!" "So you are saying you have amnesia? Then why are you always cold, harsh and brutal when you don't even remember your past? Why are you always intimidating? Why are you on demand on every police checklist, them desperately wanting you to join their force? How is it possible..." I pressed the cigarette butt that had been burning between my fingers on the ashtray and stood up as the man continued bombarding me with all
"Look! I have a four-year-old son at home, alone. He's waiting for me. So, can we please make this quick?" I lied for the fortieth time that day in the most sweetest voice I could muster.The man still won't budge. I rubbed the sides of my head with my thumbs in frustration, head facing down feeling defeated but then looked back at him, adamant to get him to talk."Can you please say something? I'm trying to help you," I said, on the verge of giving up. "Who was with you? What happened, really?"Nothing!"I'll be your lawyer pro bono. Just...just say something," I said desperately, frustration growing in the pits of my stomach. It has never been this hard I had to throw my intimidating personality aside and put on a fake mask just to get him talking.I stood up from my seat, angrily slamming my hands on the metallic table, pushing my chair away from my legs and walking out of the dimly lit interrogation room."I've done my best. The man's a wall," I told Mark, the head of LAPD."Get ba
Xander's POV I had already anaesthetized Becca when Dr. Baldowski walked in. Without much further ado, we connected the machine and set it up. We placed nodes on her forehead, at the back of her neck and somewhere between her root hairs on the scalp."This is it!" I said anxiously but yet still excitedly as I took the specialised hospital drill.Dr. Baldowski held her head firmly as I drilled a hole at the back of her head, careful not to cause any damage. Despite my hands being clammy, I took in a breath and successfully passed the camera and the sensory cable into her cerebrum."Turn on the machine," I instructed, fingers crossed.I was using two monitors. One to see where I was to stop and the other to scan the passage I was using for the purpose of recording the memory."Anything?" Baldowski asked."Not yet!"I finally settled at the downward edge of the cerebrum. "Now, we just have to wait." "How long do you think it might take?" Baldowski asked. I shrugged my shoulders. "Pati
Becca's POVWhite, bright blinding light! Heavy breathing! Pain at the back of my head, throbbing.It took a while before I familiarised with my surroundings. I was in Xander's lab, laying surprisingly on a comfortable bed, a gas mask masking my nose and mouth.I stretched my hand towards my head to try and massage it.
After two long weeks of recovery and two long weeks of Xander's boring company, I got back to my usual routine. Waking up, having a long cold shower, wearing something dark that matches my personality and showing up at LAPD if I didn't have any interesting engagement. Boring? You'll get used to it."Good to have you back, sunshine." Marlon acknowledged as he appeared through the door to his office, a file in hand.
Stood outside of the large grey LAPD building and taking in the fresh air, staring at nothing in particular. The damp air inside the building was making me nauseous. How do the cops survive in there? Or was it just me?My phone suddenly buzzed in my front jean pocket, jolting me out of my daze. I took it out and looked at the caller ID.
I picked a lollipop from the lollipop jar I always keep by my door as I entered my house, slumping on my settee. I was just from the coffee shop after been bailed. Guess I just didn't rethink my plans.Never before have my plans failed. The guy I was dealing with at the moment was different. It's like he knew my every move, knew what I was thinking or what I was to say. That explains the constant interruptions. Maybe he had heard the lines one to many times but he was manly and mature enough to finish the sentences in his head rather than blurt them out like a five year old.
"Becca! Becca! Wake up!-Goddamn it! Wake up, Becca! You've never slept in." Someone said in my ear, stroking me lightly.As far as I was concerned, I lived alone and no one but Xander and the police knew.I didn't open my eyes because I thought I was dreamin