It was ruined. The complete house was a humongous mess. Chairs overturned, lamps broken, curtains pulled apart, jars shattered. The kitchen was a complete muddle of squashed food, broken bottles and china, and an open refrigerator. The first floor, which had one bedroom one bathroom and a guest room, was also in a similar chaos. Someone had ransacked this place. I felt like crying. I had a lot of cleaning to do. My hand unconsciously went towards my head bruise covered with bandages. It was as if the whole universe was created just to make every day of my life as miserable as possible.

"Get to work, Captain Amnesia." I muttered to myself angrily.

Four hours, and a couple of ten minute breaks later, I found myself in an almost clean and livable house. Needless to say, I was completely drained, and collapsed instantly on the sofa. My stomach grumbled to emphasize the fact that I was hungry. I cooked, then ate and then was ready to crash into my bed for a long and sound sleep, when the doorbell rang. I groaned, and cursed my stupid luck and made my way towards the door.

The girl who opened the door had her head bandaged, and had signs of recent injury. Nevertheless, she was beautiful, with chocolate brown hair and hazel eyes, and radiated confidence. She scrutinized me up and down and finally noticed the police badge I was holding out.

"I am Jason Shore, City Police. I am here to carry out a murder investigation. Can I come in?"

She quickly composed the fleeting look of surprise she had had at the mention of a murder, and asked me to come in.

"Who was murdered? How am I related?" she asked once we were both seated. She handed me a coffee mug and I said,

"A girl was found…bludgeoned to death, and then her body was…thrown in the canal. The last call was made to a Clara Phoenix, who I assume is you?"

She nodded and asked me the victim's name. She seemed to be confused, wanting to tell me something but apparently deciding to keep it to herself for now. I pulled out the victim's photo from my pocket and handed it to her, and at the same time, telling her the vic's name.

"Elsa Reineer."

It was as a switch had been pulled somewhere in her brain. She gasped and grabbed the photo from the table and gave me a look of pure astonishment. Then her eyes glazed over and she became stock still.

"Clara? Clara?! CLARA!" I screamed repeatedly, trying to wake her out of her reverie but she didn't even move. I gulped, suddenly feeling scared. She had a head injury which was obviously recent and she seemed a bit tired. I thought about calling her doctor but something told me to just wait for a few more moments. I had counted up to 25 when she woke with a gasp and slumped back into her couch. I thought for a moment that she had fainted but she sat back up and drank a glass of water, and after a few seconds, when she had calmed down, quietly said,

"I know her. Elsa. She is…used to be my friend." She said shakily.

"What happened? You went into a sort of trance and didn't even move. What is that injury?" I knew that something was up with this girl and the murder. The fact that she knew the victim just made my intuition stronger. I was also a bit shaken up with the sudden stupor she had gone into and the fact that she was injured certainly had something to do with it.

She took a deep breath, and began:

"I woke up in a hospital yesterday with no memory of the past two months and a head injury. I have been discharged from the hospital for now but I still have to visit my neurologist twice a day. That…what just happened, it…it was a memory, which was hidden. I met Elsa around two months ago, which I didn't remember about, until now. She was" she gave a weak gasp, as if trying not to cry, "…she was a friend, a close one maybe. I don't know if I am supposed to grieve. I don't remember anything about her, just that we were friends. I might even have known her brother, Ethan..." She said the last word, the guy's name, real slow.

"So…" It was tough to process that much information."…you don't remember anything about her. Details, you know? And can you give me a copy of your medical prescription? Proof of your…amnesia. How long have you been in the hospital?"

"Three days, unconscious. Yesterday, I gained consciousness and today I was discharged after a session with my psychologist, Leonardo Valdez. You can confirm it. And I am bringing the prescription, just a sec."

She got up and climbed up the stairs, to bring the files. A few seconds had passed when suddenly I heard an ear splitting scream. Needless to say, I sprinted upstairs.

When I reached the landing, I found three rooms, one on the opposite side and two towards my right (staircase towards my left). One of the doors was ajar and I could still hear noises from inside. I rushed inside only to see Clara holding a huge lamp and a guy hanging from the window, his torso inside the room but his legs hanging outside. He had a huge lump on his head. Clara dropped the lamp and I just had to laugh. The scene was extremely comical. Apparently, she didn't find it that funny.

"What's there to laugh about? I could've been killed! Or worse!" she said angrily.

"Yeah, like gotten amnesia." I said in between laughs. Even she joined in the laughter after sometime, when the window sill fell on the guy's back. Finally, we decided to pull him inside and tied him in a chair. I called up my station and told them to bring someone to pick him up.

"What was he doing? Why was he trying to get in?" she asked me once the police had taken the guy away.

"I don't know. Maybe he was trying to get in?" I suggested thoughtfully.

"No shit Sherlock." She said teasingly and broke into a smile. I made a grumpy face but then laughed too.

"Well, I have some work to do now, investigating him and all, so goodbye for now. We will let you know about recent developments."

She seemed to hesitate about something, and then finally asked. "Ethan, Elsa's brother, if you meet him, or hear anything about him, will you inform me? Or maybe ask him to meet me?"

"Yes I will. Take care Clara." Saying that, I left.

Something told me that this wasn't going to be a normal homicide case, but then, none of them are.

"Yeah, nice to meet you too, Clara." Her smile was genuine, and so full of joy. She was someone who knew how to live. I had found a friend, someone actually nice and fun…

…"Maybe I should just skip this party? I don't feel like going Elsa…" I trailed off, I didn't want to. But it was Elsa. She wasn't going to hear ANY excuse. This party was inevitable…

…"I am dating Ethan. I know, don't freak out PLEASE!" Freak out would have been an understatement. Elsa squealed and then screamed and then ran around the whole house like a maniac. I was rethinking my decision about dating her brother, seriously…

…"Have you heard from him?" she asked quietly. I couldn't answer her. He had just disappeared. One whole week. What had happened? No note, no call. Ethan Reineer was missing…

…"Clara, come NOW! I have news." Her call was sudden. We had barely talked after…after Ethan left. Maybe she had heard from him? I dared to hope…

her bleeding form, lying there unconscious, it made me nauseous. I ran…ran from the animal intent on destroying everything I loved…ran from those monstrous grey eyes…

I felt like I was going to be sick. I had had that stupid episode yesterday in front of Jason, but those scenes were still fresh in my mind. It was drastic, how the emotions seemed to change from happy to melancholy in an instant. And Ethan, just thinking about him made me feel so…so…different. Ugh. I can't find any other word. I was dating him, that I was sure about. But did I love him? The only memory I had of him was him laughing, with the sun in his sandy hair and his blue eyes twinkling, he was definitely handsome.

Now all I could do was wait for Jason to find out more about Ethan and maybe tell me about the guy I was supposedly dating? See how messed up I was? And by the way, if I was dating this guy, why hadn't he bothered to find out about me? I literally had no one to look out for me. No one would mourn if I died. Only that detective would have a new homicide or maybe suicide case. On a completely unrelated topic, Jason was hot. Like seriously hot with silver eyes! I mean the sun reflected off them and made it look like it was silver, but it was just so gorgeous. And his hair was brown-ish with streaks of blond in it, along with an amazing figure. But that didn't matter. I had bigger issues. Definitely.