Chapter 8

The day dawned, and Adara woke, eyes gritty with fatigue, lashes gummed with dried tears, and her blanket ripped. A restless night.

But she'd done it. Slept without a pill. And she was still alive.

Living meant she shivered uncontrollably in the shower under the cold water. Stupid building didn't understand the concept of hot.

Since her place was depressing in daylight, Adara ran some errands, never realizing she'd acquired watchers. First, she bought some groceries - one measly bag. All she could afford and would hopefully last the week. Because she led an exciting life, with the change she had left, she ran a load of laundry down at the laundromat. Having very little clothing, she had to stay on top of the laundry situation.

As she sat in one of the hard plastic chairs bolted to the floor, waiting for the dryer to stop - the tumbling motion hypnotic - she caught a glimpse from the corner of her eye of someone peering through the steamy window. Looking surreptitiously sideways, she got an impression of blond hair before the watcher turned and walked out of sight.

Nothing to worry about. Probably just someone checking to see if all the machines were busy.

What if it wasn't?

She chided herself for being jumpy. After all, the sun shone brightly. The monsters of the night hid or slept during the daytime and were certainly not watching her wash her underwear. When the dryer finished, Adara folded her laundry and headed back to her place, the sensation that someone spied on her following her all the way home.

Paranoia. The only friend she had. She could understand why some people resorted to aluminum foil. Except, wasn't that to screw with radio signals from space? How would that solve someone stalking her?

Basket on her hip, she fumbled with her keys to open her apartment door. In that moment of vulnerability, she stiffened, her body almost expecting someone to grab her or shout "boo."

It didn't happen, and yet she didn't relax until the door of her apartment slammed shut behind her.

She dropped her basket and froze, every hair on her body standing at attention.

Something's different. Someone was here. Had she been robbed?

Looking around, she noted everything seemed in its place but slightly shifted. Almost as if things had been lifted, inspected, and put back in their places. Had someone invaded her space and rifled through her stuff while she'd run her errands?

Adara bit her lip. Am I still safe? Should I find somewhere else to sleep tonight? She wished she knew if she was overreacting. Or even imagining things. Spending time in an asylum meant second-guessing even the most basic of her instincts. She didn't know if she could trust herself, or the things she felt.

I'm not imagining it. Someone was here.

She wandered around her place. Given its size, that didn't take long. The kitchen could barely be called that with its handful of cabinets, small sink, fridge that only stood as high as her waist, and, for cooking, a toaster oven. Her mattress on the floor was her bedroom. The single chair in the place, her living/dining room. Then there was her bathroom with its cracked yellow tile, once cheerful and bright, now dingy and sad with age.

As far as she could ascertain, nothing appeared missing, however, she couldn't shake the certainty that someone had been there, nor could she ignore the fact that a scent lingered in the air, one that made her shiver.

Burnt cinnamon. Which caused her heart to both race and stop at the same time.

It also gave her an overwhelming urge to run.

Run where? I've got nowhere else to go. It did occur to her that had the person meant her harm, they could have just waited for her and ambushed her as she came in the door. And she obviously had nothing to steal. Adara sighed. Why couldn't her life be simple and safe? Especially safe. Living in fear had become so tiresome.

Time passed as she stood there, indecisive. Stay or go? She couldn't make up her mind, but given she had yet to flee, hadn't she in a sense?

If I'm staying, then I need to get moving. She still had one more task to take care of before she went to work. Quickly, she changed into some clean clothes, and then Adara locked up and went to use the payphone. Probably one of the last left in the city, although not for long, given the cracks in its casing. She dropped in a few quarters before she punched in the numbers on the card she held in one hand. Leaning against the Plexiglas case around the phone booth, she waited as the call went through - ring, click, ring, click.

"Dr. Forrester's office," answered his ultra-efficient secretary. Adara had met her a few times, as she tended to accompany the doctor to takes notes since he eschewed modern methods that involved recording sessions. Adara wondered what color Betty's hair was this week. It was one of the things she had looked forward to when meeting with the doctor.

"It's Adara," she said softly.

"Hey there, sweetie. How's the real world treating you?"

A part of Adara wanted to scream, "The world sucks!" but instead answered, "Okay, I guess. Is Dr. Forrester in?"

"He sure is. Hold on a second while I transfer you."

Adara clutched the phone with both hands and listened to the soothing orchestral music that piped into her ear. She still hadn't decided what she'd say when he came on the line.

"Adara. How is my favorite patient today? Oops, I mean ex-patient."

"I'm fine, doctor." Except for the fact that either I saw a zombie and a giant wolf last night or I blacked out and hallucinated. "Just calling to check in like you asked me to."

"I'm glad you did, Adara. You still have that job I found you?"

"Yes." Adara twisted the cord, eager to hang up. Her feelings for Dr. Forrester confused her. On the surface, he'd always appeared helpful and kind - look at all he'd done to help her. But deep down, she didn't know why, but something felt off about the doctor, as if he had a hidden agenda.

Which is dumb, not to mention self-important. Why would he give a second thought about me?

"How are you sleeping?"

"F-fine," she stuttered.

"That doesn't sound too reassuring. Have you been dreaming?"

Adara hesitated rather than immediately replying. Dr. Forrester had always shown the most interest in her dreams, but in the light of day, they seemed unreal and unimportant, especially considering she could never remember anything but the fear. She lied. "No. No dreams. Everything is just fine. I'm sleeping great thanks to those pills you gave me."

"Good. Glad they're working." He didn't catch the fib, and she held in a sigh of relief. "I'm happy you checked in. You are going in to work tonight, right?"

"Yes." She wondered why he cared. Surely, he didn't take this kind of interest in all his patients. She still wasn't even sure why he'd asked her to call him. He'd claimed it was so she'd have a friendly voice to talk to while she adjusted, but Adara found these calls felt more like an interrogation. If I give him the wrong answer, will he put me back in the hospital?

"How about your memories? Anything pop up?"

"No." Her past remained locked up tight.

"Anything odd happen?"

She must have hesitated a second too long because he prodded, "Adara, did something happen?"

Telling him about the wolf and zombie wasn't an option. "Some men tried to accost me last night on my way home."

"Are you all right?"

"Yes." A wolf rescued me. She changed that to, "A stray dog actually frightened them off."

"A dog, eh? Good thing he came along."

"I'm scared, Dr. Forrester." This was something she knew she could admit.

"Nothing to be scared of, Adara. I'm sure it was an isolated incident. I want you to forget about it."

Forget.

Blink.

She looked at the phone in her hand. Who was she talking to? The card clutched in her hand gave her a clue. "I should go. I need to get ready for work."

"I'll talk to you again in a few days, then, Adara. Unless you have something else you'd like to tell me?"

"No, nothing. Bye," she mumbled and hung up. She wondered what would happen if she didn't call. Would he care enough to come down and see if she was all right? Or would he forget her just like everyone else in the city seemed to have done after the incident, the attack that'd put her in the hospital with no memories - and injuries that had healed, leaving only mental scars behind.

Not one single person had stepped forward to claim that they knew her. It was like Adara had appeared out of nowhere. No name, no identity, no past.

The staff at the hospital had chosen Adara instead of the classic Jane for her name. Apparently, it meant beauty in Greek.

Adara sighed. She'd have given up beauty in a moment if it meant regaining her identity. She still found herself startled when she saw her reflection in a mirror. The only thing she recognized was her eyes - a strange violet color. Of the rest of her, nothing seemed right. Not even her face.

Already dreading the evening, she trudged with heavy feet to work. The prickling sensation that screamed someone followed bothered her again, but not enough for her to turn around and look. Daylight still reigned, for a few hours more at least, and people crowded the sidewalks. There'd be time enough to worry later.

Maybe the wolf will return and escort me home. Her encounter with the beast the previous night held a dreamlike quality to it. Probably because it wasn't real.

But what if it were? Even now, knowing how scared she should be, she instead found herself eager to see the wolf again. Because, if he came back, it would mean she wasn't entirely crazy.

A little crazy, though? Absolutely, because only that would explain the fact that she saw something with fluttery wings dipping overhead, sparkles falling and catching the sunlight. She stared too long, and the creature caught her staring, mouth rounded in surprise.

The tiny fairy squeaked something and flitted off. No one else noticed it. Another hallucination. More and more each day.

I need professional help.

There was no one she could turn to, though. She was alone.

Forsaken.