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Days In The Dark

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Who am I?

He blinked a few times and realized he was sitting at his kitchen table with the morning light coming through. Was he working that hard and he forgot to go to bed? He yawned, and rose from the table, staggering to his bedroom. 

There was something off, alarms were going off in his head, but they were quiet enough for him to barely notice them. He wanted to look for it, but he found his bedroom and fell onto the double bed. He crawled and settled onto the soft blankets that smelled of laundry detergent. 

He couldn’t remember if he did laundry recently.

He slept, and slept, and the thing that did eventually wake him up was an alarm going off. Not the one inside his head, but his phone beside his bed that sat on a round black table. He reached out, groaned as he fumbled for it before pulling back and turning the phone on.

This isn’t mine…

He stared at the message on his phone, and read the text over and over again until he pushed himself up, and read the message again, still with a muddled mind, but clearing as the words were bright upon the white screen, less strained as sleep blinked from his eyes.

The authorization of your memory erase has been initiated and cleared. Thank you for your cooperation, SMii7y. 

He chuckled, welling up some of his disbelief at the message. Memory wipe? What? Are you serious? This isn’t right. Why would they send him a message. There was a bit more of the message itself with a clear image of his signature at the bottom placed there for clarification.

He cleared his throat, hands shaking. 

If you need stability for the memory erase, you may contact your main associate for questions, or call us at — 

He scrambled off the bed and located his laptop. It wasn’t his, but he wasn’t focused on that. Right now, he needed to talk with his main associate who was a part of this. While he did this, he sifted through his memories of his childhood, his parents, his pet,  his career, and…

He got up and raced toward the bathroom, he moved in the house with memory muscle as he grasped for the doorknob and pushed the door open. He went for the mirror, and sighed in relief when he stared at his reflection. It was him, he was the same with his chubby cheeks, short brown hair, and short stature. He was the same.

The exhaustion fell upon him again as he walked back toward the laptop sitting on the coffee table, and he plopped down on the couch. Waiting for the laptop to turn on while he read over the message. Maybe this was all some kind of strange prank, but from what he’s looking at, it seemed too elaborate. He had an urge to call the number, but he left it alone instead. 

He was left with the feeling he met someone, but he didn’t know where those thoughts were coming from. He barely knew what was going on. At first, he figured maybe it could be sleep, or work. He knew something happened the other night, but he couldn’t grasp for what it was. He didn’t even know the correct date, or what day of the week it was. 

Thursday apparently. 

SMii7y yawned again. His laptop opened up, and the first thing he found that was strange besides the strange message on his phone, and the weird memory losses he was experiencing that he wanted to blame on a lack of sleep. 

Now, there was a screen on to a sight, green text on the front, white thin border, it looked old, blocky, but he noticed at around ten pm the other night, and he had been talking to someone.

In the morning. Tell me in the morning, ffs. —  SMii7y.

You won’t remember, but sure. — Vanoss.

“Vanoss?” SMii7y muttered. He reached for his phone and held it up. He took off the message that told him he had erased his memory, and found another message inside his phone. 

This is secure. Answer me once you see this.

SMii7y frowned, and was a little hesitant about this. He set his laptop down and closed it, then changed into a pair of jeans, one of the knees were ripped, while pulling on a white t-shirt. He decided against socks before plopping down on the bed. 

“What is going on?” He was still trying to remember if he worked at a job, or how he got money for the large bed that could fit two or three other people. The blankets were a light grey and the sheets were white. There was a mirror on the side, and a laundry basket full of clothes. It smelled clean inside the room, as if someone vacuumed and then sprayed something that made everything smell...flowery. 

SMii7y grasped for his phone and got up from the bed, his skin felt strange, like something was crawling underneath it and he needed to sit in a more ventilated room. He stared at the text as he walked down the hall to his living room. The smell sunk in the carpet and stuck to the white walls and cabinets. 

He sat down in the living room and decided to see what would happen. So he texted them back, and asked them one simple question: Who are you?

He decided not to sit on the couch and wait for an answer. He was hungry, and it was bothering him how clean it was inside the apartment. He opened a window, turned on a fan, and then looked inside the fridge. He poured himself a glass of orange juice, and bit into an apple when he wandered back toward the glass coffee table where he had placed his phone. He also brought a sandwich and a chocolate bar he found in the freezer.

He looked down at the phone while he was chewing and noticed he finally got a text back. He set the apple beside his glass, and picked up his phone. 

Octavia.

SMii7y frowned and texted back. What?

The message he received back was quick. Fuck.

Octavia. Was he supposed to know who or what that is?

It’s your dog. I was hoping you remembered.

SMii7y glanced around the living room and heard only silence, his ears started ringing. Is that where that feeling was coming from. As if he forgot a presence, and why the house smells too clean. 

He looked down at the phone. I don’t have a dog name Octavia. He wasn’t even sure what was going on. The person didn’t even tell him who they was, and yet they’re having a strange conversation, or the starting of one. 

Well, you do now. 

“Who...are...you?” SMii7y typed out on the phone, picking up his glass and taking a sip while watching the screen. He got an answer a minute later.

Vanoss.

He never heard of this person before. Why were they messaging him. Another message appeared after the other, one that more inquiring. 

Don’t you think it’s strange that your memory is gone?

Was it strange or did this person want him to believe it was? He felt as if his own apartment didn’t fully belong to him, and that presence he missed gave off an emptiness around him. 

I don’t know what you mean. I woke up, and everything was fine, besides your message, and the one that said I lost my memory. 

So, they messaged you. Made sure you knew it was gone.

SMii7y frowned. Was this person supposed to tell him what as going on or continue to be cryptic. I was beginning to become tiring. 

What do you want from me?

He didn’t get a message for another few minutes, and it gave SMii7y enough time to eat his food and drink the rest of his orange juice. The minutes went by and still SMii7y was able to clean up, think he wasn’t going to get another message from this mystery person, but still poured himself a glass of juice and enjoyed it in the kitchen while staring out the window at the city.

He set the glass down in the sink and wandered back over to the phone. He was a little happy he didn’t have to think too much about the person until he picked up the phone, and frowned at the message. 

This is what we wanted. Your memory is gone, they’ll eventually find you, know that you’re easy to capture, and they won’t let you go afterwards. Right now, I don’t want them to find you, I want you to stay safe, out of the light, away from the people who cleaned your house, and almost took your dog, if it wasn’t for my connections, I wouldn’t have been able to get Octavia before they killed her. 

That was a little unsettling, SMii7y sat down and read the rest of the message. 

We had to erase it. Okay. It was your idea, and your idea that I message you the next day so we don’t waste time. Your name is Jaren Smith and they already erased it from the system. 

SMii7y’s heart raced, uncertain. What do you want me to do about all of this? If I erased my memory, what was the intention?

The intention…

SMii7y sat back against the couch, feeling shaken by all of this. 

The intention was to make sure you were erased, but they’ll know right away, they’ll give you a day, monitor you to make sure you’re okay and that you’re not linked to me.

That was strange. What do you mean linked ? Why would I be linked to you? It also sounded like a normal phrase SMii7y has heard many times before, except he hasn’t.

It’ll be confusing. I need you to do leave your apartment. Pack a bag of clothes, money, a picture of your dog if it’s in there somewhere. Leave. I’m linked to you, so I’ll be able to find you more easier without them blocking the signal like last time.

SMii7y got up from the couch and walked down the hall, back into his bedroom where he laid down. This was a lot to take in. Why should I trust you?

You erased your memory for this, SMii7y! I need you to trust me right now! They will take you...and I’d rather not disconnect the link, not now when I’m close to locating Delirious.

SMii7y frowned at the name. Who?

That doesn’t matter. I’m hunting for his close friend. Leave the apartment, don’t stay overnight. I’ll keep Octavia safe. Talk to you soon.

SMii7y tried getting another answer from this random person, except he got nothing. He was still shaken and unsure, and he placed his phone down, and stared at the ceiling. 

What was happening?

What he did know is that he didn’t do what Vanoss wanted him to do. It was too much already, and he’d rather figure this out for himself. Except he couldn’t get rid of the paranoia itching in the back of his mind. 

Something was wrong, he knew it, he just didn’t know what it was.