For anyone who has read and is waiting for this, sorry for the delay on any chapters! I'll be fixing everything so it's all beautiful and nice and... Please read and love this!

~love hidden

Chapter 3

The water was warm and relaxing. It ran down my skin in rivulets then fell to the stone tiled floor. I looked over the shampoos and conditioners that lined the corner of the shower. I chose one that promised to give my hair a 'shine unlike another other brand'. I lathered and began to wash it out, loving the silky feel of my hair running through my fingers.

I chose a random scent of body wash- Sweet pea- and rubbed it over my thin shoulders and then over my legs. I was out of the way of the stream of water and covered from head to toe in bubbles. I stepped forward and let the shower wash away all the dirt and grime that had caked itself over me since I'd last taken a shower. I don't remember when it was.

I watched as the bubbles slipped down the drain and then turned the water up higher, warmer, until it began to burn my skin. I watched as my skin turned a bright pink and smiled. The warmth was inviting, even though it brought a thin sheet of pain. I sat down on the ground and pressed my back to the side of the shower.

I looked down at my arms, seeing the tattoos melding together. I couldn't remember who all these names were but from what I could see and what I have learned from Jarrod, they all represented a man I had been in a relationship with. Even with this knowledge, I couldn't find a memory to connect with any of these names- Jack, Isaac, Samuel, Zackary, Matthew- not one meant a thing to me. It all seemed to be blocked- as if I'd locked all the memories up in a safe and then lost the key.

I looked at my legs, which had the small tattoos that told the story of every bad thing I'd ever done, every time I'd ever hurt another person. However, they seemed to be decipherable only by the owner of them, as each had symbols and pictures that summed it up in space smaller than most. Another thing I couldn't remember.

It seemed there was only thing I could remember and that was the day before this amnesia, the day my mother died. I could still hear her calls even though the dream had ended as soon as I'd left the bed.

My mom looked around the entire room, her eyes filling with pain. She started coughing, blood filling her lungs. "Lydia, go... Go, sweetie."

"But, mom..."

"Lydia! I love you! You need to leave!" Coughing followed.

I crawled towards her prone form, only to find as I got closer that she was pinned underneath a beam of wood, large than me, "Mom! I can't leave you behind! Not without trying! That's just as bad as killing you!"

Coughing and then quiet. "Mom!" I watched as she disappeared into the smoke again. I crawled closer, "Mom!"

"Lydia!" She coughed again and I saw her eyes from the bottom of the pile of burned wood, a small clear area in the smoke again. "Leave... You need to go!"

I watched her, my heart tugging me towards her but my brain dragging me towards where I know the door was at the end of the hall, where fresh air would be. I watched her and as the smoke hid her from view I crawled out, towards the door, my heart dying at every movement away from my mother. She had brought me up, cared for me, and now I was leaving her to die. I knew she wouldn't have left me behind, but I couldn't bear to go back now, in the case that neither of us would live.

I opened the door and slipped into the smoky landing. I got up and started running to the stairs. We lived in the apartment and oddly, the fire seemed mostly contained to our apartment and the room above it. I didn't give a second thought as I slipped down the stairs, my feet slipping from under me as I sprawled on the ground at the bottom. I had three more stories to go and the smoke was thinning.

I went down two more flights before I was met by a firefighter. It'd been hard to get down- I'd fallen a lot. The smoke was thickening again as the fire passed from our apartment to the rest. Then I couldn't think about why the smoke had thickened but I'd made the inference afterwards.

"My-my mom! I left her! I killed her by leaving her alone b-but..." I coughed and fell in the man's arms. He quickly picked me up and went to taking me from the apartment. I heard the voice of another firefighter from a while away.

"The fire's passed down to the third and fourth floors... It's already taken the sixth. I doubt we can save anyone on the fifth floor!" He came in my sight.

The first firefighter looked at me, "You said something about your mom... What floor is she on?"

"F-f-fith!" I gasped, watching him. "You have to save my mom!"

He looked at the other firefighter then stepped away from me and whispered in a voice he thought I wouldn't hear. I could though, "Get people evacuated from the third and fourth floors. The newbies will get the ones from the bottom floors. Her mom's gone. If you can get to the fifth floor, try. But don't make it a priority."

"Yes, sir." The man said and left quickly, barking orders.

The firefighter turned back to me, "We'll get your mom out, if we can." All I do is nod because I don't know what else to do, and I'm hoping with all my might that he might actually be telling the truth.

The water had gone cold and I jumped out of the shower, shivering from the freezing water that clung to my skin with a deathly might as the even colder air blew around my naked skin. I grabbed the closest towel and tightened it around my body as I stared at myself in the mirror.

"Lydia, are you done?" A soft feminine voice called from the bedroom door.

I debated my options. I wasn't done- I could stare at myself for hours- and yet if I said so, she would probably just come in anyway. "I'm drying off!" I yelled back and hugged myself. I heard her open the bedroom door and then leave a while later. I looked into the room and a pile of clothes were sitting on the bed.

I finished drying off really quickly before going to the pile. A light pair of jeans with a tight black tank top. A button up white shirt, and a black hoodie. I put the pants and the tank top on and, being as I was oddly warm, only put the shirt on, leaving it unbuttoned. I looked at the bloody tattoo on my neck. I watched it then pulled my hair in front of it, hiding it from anyone's view.

I wonder when someone notices this and questions my story of how my mother died.

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Thank you all so very much for reading this and please please please comment. Also go check out my fanfiction account, if you have the time. I know that, on fictionpress, it sucks to find stories that are good. Just give your input on whether or not I should continue writing this or if you need me to clarify anything!

~Thank you, Hidden