Chapter Six

He stirred opening his eyes. He frowned not being able to make sense of his environment. He lifted his hands up to see and noticed that they were blurry. He wasn't wearing his glasses.

Groaning, he shifted his weight to his left elbow and was shocked at the blurry mass of a face staring right back at him.

He yelped back in fear.

"Relax, it's me." He felt a soft hand on his arm and it calmed him down immediately.

"Hope?" Will asked surprised, still disoriented.

"What are you doing here?" he asked still confused. The last thing he remembered was being at the park with Berry.

Hope stood up and took an object off his desk—they were in his living room.

"Here." She handed him his glasses.

"What happened?" Will asked wearing them.

Will sat up and closed his eyes in pain, feeling the migraine hitting him again. His head was pulsating and it felt like it would crack open any moment.

Surprised, Will felt Hope hold his hand and an unexplainable warmth filled him.

She looked worried.

"What's going on Will? What happened to you?" she asked.

"I'm fine," he said trying to stand up but failing.

"No, you're not fine. You froze for a long time, almost as though you were having...a flashback." She hesitantly finished.

"Tell me, what's going on." she pleaded.

Will shook his head and managed to stand up. He held the couch for support.

How had she been able to get him home in the first place?

"I can't tell you, because I don't know myself," he said.

He went over to the kitchen and poured himself a glass of water. He took some pills from his cabinet and downed them in one gulp.

He glanced out the window and noticed that it was already dark.

Will's eyes widened.

"How long have I been out? It's so late," he turned to her,

"You didn't need to stay, I would have been fine."

"Clearly you're not," Hope said.

Will sighed setting the glass cup down.

"I need to get you a cab. These parts aren't safe." Will came over to her and wanted to grab her hand but she didn't let him.

"Not until you tell me what's wrong with you," she pressed, then she became quiet seeming to remember something.

She looked at him with an unreadable expression.

"Is it true what you said, this evening, about, liking me?" she asked tentatively.

She played with the cover clothe draped on top of the beautiful couch. She seemed distracted by the stitching.

She chanced a look at him, but he was already staring at her.

The look in his eyes was answer enough.

"Yes," the words came out like a whisper, as though even he was surprised that he'd finally confessed his feelings for her out loud.

Hope's gaze softened and he felt something move inside of him; it felt warm and cozy—and she was the reason.

She smiled but then her eyes turned sad, remembering something. Hope folded her arms across her chest.

The night air seemed to settle into the room, it gave the room an almost apprehensive feel.

"But you also have someone else," Hope whispered.

Will looked at her confused, standing up from where he sat.

"I don't. Why do you think that?" Hope looked away as he got closer.

"She was all you talked about, in your sleep." she said.

Something hot flickered through him.

"W-What did I say?" he asked, scared of what unknown secrets he may have revealed in his dream; about his past.

"Something about church and you going for the first time in a while," she paused briefly before sighing, "and you loving her—you really sounded like you did. So who is she?"

Will gulped. He'd dreamt of her?

"What else did I say?" he asked. He wanted to know as much as possible.

Will couldn't remember exactly what he'd dreamt about but somehow, he'd talked in his sleep?

Now looking back, Will realised that something had triggered the memories—and it had had something to do with Hope.

He looked at her.

Maybe it had had something to do with the colour of her eyes. Maybe she had the same ones, maybe.

Hope walked closer to him. Her honey-brown eyes stood out so much it was almost impossible not to notice them.

"You talked about how much you miss her and didn't want to let her go. You kept telling her you were sorry, you... cried a bit." Hope said quietly looking away.

"What exactly happened to her, is she..."

"I don't know." Will quickly cut her off. Sure he'd contemplated the possibility that she was dead but it wasn't something he was willing to actually admit.

"I-I can't remember her." He said. Will couldn't believe that he'd opened up to another person about what had happened four years ago, at least about what he could remember.

His mother didn't know anything about her, neither did his sister or cousin.

All he'd remember was waking up from surgery with too many bandages to count wrapped around his head.

Cancer.

That was what they'd said.

He felt useless not knowing anything.

Will noticed Hope's questioning stare and just sat back down on the chair in front of the island.

Thankfully the headache was starting to subside.

He held his head in his hands and just seemed to stare into Hope's eyes.

Hope could see his fears and worries and she was sad she couldn't do anything about it.

"I can't remember her because of the surgery I had, a while back," he began,

"I can't even remember her face. All I remember is her smile and it's the most beautiful thing."

"It's scary how you don't know anything about important parts of your own life and have to depend on others for the littlest information."

"They took the tumor out of my brain but I couldn't remember anyone, not even my own family." Will saw her eyes widen in shock.

"Yeah, it's scary I know, but I did remember them, eventually."

"But her, she pops up in my head when I'm sleeping, when I'm awake— it drives me crazy not knowing where she is or if she's even okay."

"I think she's trying to tell me something."

"If she was alive, she should have at least tried contacting me." He felt his eyes sting.

He felt helpless. He didn't even know what happened to her and here he was with another woman he'd just confessed his feelings to.

Will felt Hope hold his hand. He could feel the tears at the edge of his eyes threatening to spill.

Hope wrapped her arms around his neck and hugged him.

"I'm sure she loves you too Will, it's hard not to." His eyes widened.

"I'll help you find her," she whispered.

"She's must be truly special." Will had no doubt that she was.

Now that he'd opened up a bit more to her, he felt like he could tell her more. He gulped.

"Hope," he started.

"Yeah?"

"Do you often feel like someone's watching?" he asked seriously.

He saw what he could only interpret as shock crossed her features.

He quickly continued,

"I sometimes feel eyes on me when I'm walking or sleeping, or even when I'm in the shower. I hear voices too."

"But I don't want to believe someone might be actually after me. It feels weird even saying it out loud."

"It's not." She seemed to look at him with eyes that seemed to know everything.

"You should get some sleep," Hope said leaning back.

"I'll call you back tomorrow," she said.

"But it's late," he said worriedly.

"I'll get an Uber silly." she grinned.

"Oh, yeah sorry."

"Good night Will. I pray you sleep well."

"Thanks." he smiled. He escorted her to the door even waited till the Uber arrived.

"I'm sorry about this evening. I swear I don't faint this often." he smiled.

Hope chuckled.

She hugged him again and Will felt a warmth spread from somewhere deep inside of him. He hugged her back and whispered,

"Thanks, Hope, you being here really means a lot. I sincerely mean that."

"I'll call you tomorrow and be sure to use your meds," she said getting into the car.

He stood by the curb just watching, the car zooming off into the distance.

Somehow she always made everything better.

"Hope," he whispered.

'Will.' The wind seemed to carry her voice.

"I'll find you, I promise." He vowed to the wind.

He walked back into his apartment and had dinner.

He had a shower and walked into his room with a towel wrapped around his waist.

He knew he would have to call his friends and apologize for canceling their time out tonight.

Matt had already called and Will had refused to divulge anything. The stubborn mule would be around the next morning to take him to church.

Will wore his nightclothes and got in bed.

He saw her Bible. He pulled it to himself and traced the cover with his hand.

He opened it and the book of Ezekiel was where he came to. The whole of chapter twenty-eight was highlighted.

"...you were the signet of perfection, full of wisdom and perfect in beauty..." he muttered.

"...you were in Eden, the garden of God..." he was about to continue when he got a strange feeling. Something didn't feel right.

Suddenly the lights in his room went out.

Will froze.

The sick feeling of decay engulfed him, and he felt slain.

He saw something move in the corner of his eyes. Will didn't dare move. The shadows moved on their own, taunting him.

Will's eyes were glued to the corner of the room until the shadows intentionally moved into his line of sight and his heart nearly gave up.

It was the creature in his dream, from when he'd been hospitalized.

Will knew that at that point, he wasn't dreaming. This was physical. This was real and the misshapen creature was staring, right at him.

'He's coming...for what's his.

To consent is to lose.

You belong to the master and three others belong to you.'

He heard its inhumane voice whisper to him like a lyrics to a song in his subconscious—though its voice was far from melodious.

Will was shaking, the creature was nearly nose to nose with him now. It was on the bed and his grip on the Bible had tightened.

"What do you want?" Will found himself asking.

'You can only want what you don't have.'

He heard the creature whisper into his mind.

'You're ours already.'

The wind howled, then it was gone, along with its putrid smell.

Will let out a strangled breath as the gravity of what he had just experienced dawned on him.

This was no longer a game. Whatever that thing was, it wanted him.

"God, what is happening?" he exclaimed.

He needed to see someone, someone who understood these sorts of things or he was going to go crazy. He knew just the person.

"Pastor Feranmi," he muttered.

"I need to remember. God, please let me remember." He cried into the empty space.

This was oppression, he knew that much. Seeing was believing for most people right? Now he'd seen something he couldn't unsee.

He knew that he wasn't crazy but he knew he would be if he didn't get answers.

He knew that whatever he couldn't remember had something to do with what happened four years ago and he knew it wasn't just the surgery.

The smile of her flashed across his eyes.

"What happened to us?" he asked the thin air.

Tomorrow, he would get the answers he sought after.

He would get his memories back, one way or another.

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