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What Happened to Lana Christine?

My blood poured out onto the floor as the water washed into the foyer of the apartment. Lana was gone, and only the water remained.

I glanced up to see my apartment. But the piles of garbage bags were missing. It was clean and looked like a couple was living there. They had matching mugs with a single letter on them. There were photos of a man and woman together. I couldn't make out who they were. The bathroom had two different coloured toothbrushes and two different body wash.

I limped through the halls holding my side. Lana or whatever it was had punched a small hole into me. She had sliced me pretty good as well. My body was riddled with cuts.

The apartment was mine; I knew this, but why couldn't I remember who I lived here with. I couldn't remember; everything was fuzzy.

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