A Night Lost

Flora’s head is pounding. She blinks adjusting to the daylight. She’s looking at her open palms, hands bloodied, opening and closing her fingers as if trying to regain feeling in them after being numbed. The feeling of a butterknife jabbing her brain. She doubles up clutching her temples. Ahh! Ngh! Jeez… What happened last night?

Confusion takes over Flora’s disheveled features as she surveys her surroundings; more importantly, what happened to my room?

Flora focuses on her bedsheets, ruffled and bloody. Her blinks are rapid as she processes the state of her belongings. Her hands make their way to cup her face sliding up fast and down slower once as she takes a deep breath. My Phone!

Frantic searching. Her room finding its way into more disarray than it already was. Flora victoriously raises her arm with her phone grasped in her still bloodied palm. Rapid and trembling, she finds her contact named “Bestie”. She calls the number. Voicemail.

“Mhh. Hey! Hi! Jordan. It’s me, Flora. Ugh, duh, obviously you know, gah. Ok, listen : I just need to make sure you’re all right. And – And I need you to tell me what happened last night after the club” Flora pauses, inhaling deeply, composing herself, “I, uh, I can’t remember anything after that. Like, it’s just a whole lot of blank.” She hangs up.

Still shakey, Flora edges towards the mirror next to her bed. She barely recognizes the person gazing back at herself. Blood is covering her clothes and skin. Her eyes grow as wide as they can, filled with utter fear and panic. She reaches for her chest grabbing her open plaid sweatshirt, tearing it off her body. Her t-shirt is next to fly off her body as if it were burning through her skin. She goes for her shoes and pants clumsily and rapidly, tripping over her feet in the rush. Theres a heavy thud as her crouched body hits the floor. She groans as she gets back up and rushes towards the adjoining bathroom.

Door. Step. Faucet. Scrub. Scrub. Scrub. She scrubs until the red is no longer from the blood but from the irritation of the relentless scrubbing. Her shower is over. She gets dressed in a frenzy.

Out the bedroom door and to the stairs, barely failing to miss a few steps.

“Don’t wait up. I’m headed out with Jordan. Might be home late.” Flora calls out to her mother, without regards as to if there’s anyone in the house to answer. Not that it matters; the front door is shut behind Flora before a response is even possible. Where the hell is he? Flora is in her car and driving off.

Three blocks later she’s at an apartment building walking up the three flights of stairs to get to Jordans apartment. Knock Knock Knock. No answer. Again. No answer. Flora knocks one last time before making her way back to her car. She sits behind the wheel, holding it in her hands, frozen in thought. The club! She drives to their most visited nightclub.

Walking in Flora speaks to the bouncer, and then the bartender.

a“Have you seen a guy about this tall,” she gestures to Jordans height in comparison to herself, “has short-ish brown wavy hair?” Both of them tell her they haven’t seen him. She sighs in disappointment, thanks them, and makes her way out of the club. She crosses the street to another club, and asks the same question to the bouncer and bartender. She gets the same response. Closing her eyes and shaking her head she decides to exit the club. Not noticing the clear blue sky above, she heads to a few more bars, getting the same results at each of them. Entering her car once again, she smacks her steering wheel, blowing air out of her flared nostrils.

Flora sits in her car staring blankly at the radio, lost in thought. The Woods! Of course, why didn’t I think of that sooner? Flora starts the engine and drives off toward their childhood hangout.

Once parked on the gravel pathway leading towards one of the entrances to the forest, the crunching of Flora’s footsteps can be heard in the silence. Darkness begging to settle in, the scene as if pulled from a horror movie. Flora growing uneasy in her quest of finding her best friend, looks warily at her surroundings. Tall firs and oaks peering down at her, threatning to swallow her whole if she were to venture the wrong way.

Flora remembers there was a small wooden shack, deep into the forest, where she and Jordan would run off to as children to escape their familys conflicts. It was their getaway spot. Floras forehead crinckles, deep in thought. Why did we stop coming here again? We were always here… As she walks toward where she believes the shack to be, she thinks back on all the fun they had here, playing make-belief and running wild. She chuckles at the memory of the two of them playing around the shack as if it were a secret layer that no one was supposed to know about. The sounds of them laughing and running around can be heard echoing in the back of Floras mind. There’s the smallest hint of a smirk on her lips that stays only for the slightest moment.

Flora stops in her tracks. Oh no. Was it right or left here? Her jaw tenses as she focuses on her memories, trying to get a glimpse of the path. She’s quickly snapped out of her thoughts by the crackle of tree branches and fallen leaves getting closer towards her. Her gaze averts in the direction the noise is coming from. Her face contorts in confusion and horror at the possibility of an imminent threat.

The figure of a boy emerges from the shadows the trees create, his steps uneaven and wobbly, and his body swaying slightly with every step. He’s focusing on the ground he’s walking on, head facing straight down. His clothes and body are covered in blood (much like Flora when she woke up earlier this day). He looks up from his trance.

“Fl – Flora… Is – that really you?” There’s a pause before the boy Flora now recognizes as Jordan continues, cradling his forehead, “Do you – do you know what happened last night? I can – can’t remember anything after the club. And I’m – I’m – I’m dripping with blood! I’m scared.” The last word is barely audible from Jordans cracking voice.

Flora, realizing she is no longer alone in this mysterious circumstance, relaxes her body becoming less rigid. She looks at Jordan with slight relief. Looking him up and down in a loving and comforting manner, wearing soft features.

“I – I’m sorry.” She says softly almost as if caressing him with her words, “I can’t help you remember…” Jordan looks accusingly at Flora, not understanding why she wont help him.

“I – can’t remember either. I actually came out here looking for you to help me remember. But I guess that won’t be happening now that I know you don’t remember either.” Her concern for him is evident, “Um, let’s, uh, get you cleaned up a bit, okay? Before we go back into town.” Jordan barely nods as he processes what he’s been told.

Darkness.

Ruffling leaves fill the silence. Flora’s head is pounding. She blinks adjusting to the daylight. She looks at her bloody palms, opening and closing her fingers. The feeling of a butterknife in her brain. She clutches her temples. Ahh! Ngh! God… This hurts… She gets on her knees examining her surroundings.

Jordan is laying in the leaves next to her, both covered in blood. They lock eyes. Jordan is horrified.

“What’s happening to us?” He struggles to get the words out. Flora looks just as horrified as Jordan. But she manages to muster up a few words after some stammering.

“I – I don’t know.” Her words are strained as if being slowly pulled out of her vocal cords.