Getting Her Memory Back (open to 1m)

[LadyCara]

Getting Her Memory Back (closed for AndyGoat)

My character is in her late twenties and has been in a car accident, which was bad enough to give her amnesia. Looking for a male willing to take her in, until she remembers who she is again. Preferably a build up, rather than straight to the sex.

No one liners and if possible, 2-3 paragraphs at least, though they don’t have to be ‘War and Peace’ in length.

I'm also open to thoughts an suggestions, so if you have any ideas you'd like to incorporate, then let me know by pm.

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The woman stumbled and looked around, as if seeing where she was for the first time. She found she was surrounded by wood, large pine trees that reached for the sky. The forest floor beneath her black shoes was covered in pine needles and brown earth. Between the trees she could just make out a blue sky.

In her hand was a key and attached to it was a keyring with the word Mercedes on it. Was that her name or the car she drove? Everything seemed fuzzy as she tried to remember. Who was she and how had she got here. The more she tried to remember, the more her head hurt. Every time a picture started to form in her head, it disappeared before she could hold onto it. The fact that she couldn’t remember scared her. She tried to remember something, anything and then she remembered she had a black dog called Tess. I remember a dog, but I don’t remember me! She thought to herself. But the fact she remembered something gave her hope that she’d remember more.
She brushed some of her shoulder length auburn hair out of her eyes and then realised there was dried blood on her hand. Feeling her scalp, Mercedes winced as she touched a large bruise, over laid with a scab. She tried looking at herself, nothing broken, but she did have several scratches. Broken glass? She wondered.

She wore a silk blouse that had been ripped, probably by a branch or thorny bush, as they were too long to have been made by flying glass. Her black skirt stopped just above her knee, with a slit up the back and appeared undamaged though her stockings were ripped with large holes.

Mercedes wasn’t sure which way to go, as she had no idea where she was. Glancing around she saw a track, made by humans or animals? She had no way of knowing, but at least it would be easier going than trying to make her own way.

Still feeling dizzy, she followed the path, which to her surprise opened up in a clearing and in the clearing was a large cabin. The sort with a main floor and a room in the loft.

By now she was feeling hungry and thirsty and her head which had started as a dull ache was beginning to pound. She hoped that the occupant may have a phone, but who she could phone she wasn’t sure, because, who do you phone when you don’t know who you are?

 

[AndyGoat]

No good, Evan thought to himself, staring at the blank canvas. It wasn't going to happen today. He looked at the paintings he had propped up against the wall and sighed. Nearly a dozen variations of the same scene. All good, all interesting variations, but all the same thing, the view from the second floor porch.

The good thing about having a cabin in the mountains with a spectacular view was that there was always something to paint. The bad side of it was that it made him lazy, and he knew that he needed a change. Fall was in the air, and once the leaves were in their full glory, he'd have variety, but just now, it was the same rich green that it had been all summer long.

Two weeks til his show, and he had promised the gallery people at least a couple more pieces than he had already done, just to fill the wall-space. That meant hiking somewhere to get a new view of things. He didn't mind hiking, actually he was a big fan, but lugging his easel and a canvas and all his paints up a mountain, only to be unable to work because it started raining, was a game he had grown tired of already. He shook his head. Stupid to complain, when almost every artist he knew would slit their wrists for the freedom that he had, since his grandfather had left him this cabin free and clear. Then again, half the artists he knew would slit their wrists for a cup of coffee.

Tomorrow, he decided, I'll go down to the falls and do one there. In the meantime, there was more than enough work to do around the property to occupy his time. Starting with the huge pine tree that had blown down in the storm last night. It had come frighteningly close to crushing the house, and a few of its limbs had fallen across the gravel driveway that wound down to the road.

He went out to the shed and came out with the chainsaw, a good pair of leather gloves and safety goggles. He felt a little silly about the goggles, but he'd feel a lot sillier if he had to cancel his show because a woodchip injured his eye and he couldn't paint. He was just about to pull the cord to fire it up when he saw a woman stumbling up the path from the river.

He stopped and stared at her. She was wearing a skirt and stockings, not exactly recommended clothing for a hike in the woods. Then he saw she was injured. She could barely stay on her feet, and what he had thought was a shadow was dried blood on her face. He called out, and started jogging towards her. He saw her look at him in a sort of confused horror, and realized he probably looked like every mountain man horror movie ever, with the chainsaw and goggles, and even paint splattered all over his clothes.

"It's alright," he called, setting the saw down and pulling the goggles off. "I'm not going to hurt you."

The highway twisted through the hills a few miles away, maybe a few hours' hike. If she'd gone off the highway in the storm last night, he thought, it would have been much longer than that. Of course, injured and in heels, she'd have been going a lot slower. It was the only explanation he could think of for why a beautiful woman would wander up that path in business clothes.

 

[LadyCara]

She suddenly noticed movement and it took her a moment to realise it was a man wearing goggles and holding a chainsaw, with red splattered on his clothes. Admittedly there were other colours, but the red together with the chainsaw lead to the wrong conclusion and she took a step back, a look of horror on her face. She wondered if she should scream or run, but fear made her immobile.

"It's alright," he called, setting the saw down and pulling the goggles off. "I'm not going to hurt you."

His voice was so calm, she wasn’t sure if she should believe him or not, but she didn’t know where to turn or where to go. And when he took his goggles off, it looked a kindly, handsome face. How could she have been scared of him? She wondered as she looked into his clear friendly eyes and realising that he wasn’t as imposing or scary as she’d first thought. He looked to her as if he was used to a rugged outdoor life, especially as he held the chainsaw so easily, she doubted she’d even be able to pick it up.

“I..” her voice sounded unsteady, she hesitated. What was she supposed to say. “I think I’ve been in a car accident.” She said eventually holding her car keys up. She knew she probably looked stupid, maybe even pathetic, but her brain couldn’t think straight. What did one say in situations like this?

She took a step towards him and stumbled on the uneven ground.

“Sorry, I’m such a clutz sometimes.” Where had that come from? Her mind in turmoil. Was she really a clutz or was she just saying that to cover herself. The fact that she couldn’t remember frightened her as she knew she should know something so simple, including her name. There were so many details she knew she should know, things people knew about themselves like eye colour, but until she looked in a mirror, she had no idea what she looked like!
She then realised that he was next to her. Had he stopped her falling? She wished her head would clear, so that she could think straight, she was being worse than a 5 year old she berated herself.

“Do you have anything I can drink and maybe a pain killer, like Tylenol?” she asked, thinking that if she could sort her head out then maybe, just maybe, she’d be able to think straight.

 

[AndyGoat]

He saw her start to lose her balance, and crossed the space between them as quickly as he could. He slid an arm around her waist and she slouched against him. For a moment, he thought she was unconscious, but then her eyelis fluttered and she looked up at him. Her eyes were bloodshot and her pupils dilated, and the gash on her head looked bad. If she really had come from the highway in her state, it was practically a miracle. Though the rip in her blouse and teh scratches along her arms and legs made it seem possible, as did the variety of pine needles and other leaves that seemed to be caught in her hair.

“Do you have anything I can drink and maybe a pain killer, like Tylenol?” He felt his attention snap back from speculation like a rubber band. The girl didn't need him to play Sherlock Holmes, she needed help. He reached down, scooping her legs up under the arm that wasn't around her waist, and carried her across the yard and into the house.

Once, years ago, he had taken first aid course, and he was pretty sure she was suffering from a concussion. Other than that, he thought maybe shock and exposure, and possibly a sprained ankle. He shoved a couple of paintings aside with his hip and lay her on the couch and rushed into the kitchen. There was nothing to drink but well water and scotch, and he was pretty sure he was supposed to keep her awake if she had a concussion. He filled a glass with water and grabbed the dust-coated first aid kit from under the sink. Then he grabbed blankets from the linen closet and a bottle of aspirin.

He burst back into the living room and saw her staring somewhat dazedly at the ceiling. He knew he needed to calm down, so he set the glass of water down, and wrestled the cap off the aspirin. He took a deep breath, and was pleased with how in control he sounded. As if he wasn't freaked out at all by having a beautiful, injured woman stumble out of the forest and collapse in his arms. And she was beautiful, or would be, if she weren't such a mess.

"I haven't got anything but water, but I can make some tea if you like. Don't take more than two of those until you get some food in you. I brought you some blankets if you're cold, and I'm going to run a bath for you, but ... um ... " he looked at her ankle and the scratches on her legs and frowned. "I want to ... make sure that's not broken and clean out those scrapes, but I ... er ... do you think you could get your hose off?" He stood up, first aid kit in hand, trying not to stare. "I'll just go get that tea started, and .. um .. call me when you're, you know, ready."

 

[LadyCara]

One minute she was standing and the next minute he was carrying her and with his strong arms around her, she felt safe and warm. It wasn’t until then that she realised how cold she’d been feeling. As he carried her, she leant her head on his shoulders, happy that someone was taking care of her and she wouldn’t have to make any more effort to walk, or even think about which direction she should be going in.

As soon as they entered the cabin, it felt homely, with pictures scattered around and the warm light from outside coming in through the windows. She felt him lower her to the sofa and she wished she could have stayed in his comforting arms, which considering he was a stranger, she knew was an odd thought to have and put it down to the fact her head wasn’t on straight.

She heard him move off, and he soon returned, his arms full of blankets and a first aid box.

“Water with the tablets and then a tea would be great. And thanks.” The thank you was for the tea, but she hoped he would realise it was also thanks for helping her, because she really did appreciate his helping her, especially as she probably looked a sight!.

“A bath would be great. I am feeling a bit cold.” She said taking two aspirin. She wished she could just grab the blanket and dive beneath it, but knew she was a mess and the thought of being clean appealed to her more.

"I want to ... make sure that's not broken and clean out those scrapes, but I ... er ... do you think you could get your hose off?" He stood up, first aid kit in hand, trying not to stare. "I'll just go get that tea started, and .. um .. call me when you're, you know, ready."

She smiled at his retreating back. He really was a nice guy and she wondered how many people would be as considerate. But the fact that she couldn’t remember anymore people worried her.

As she took off her hose, she nearly lost her balance a couple of times and was thankful when she could do the rest sitting down. With her legs bare she looked at her swollen ankle, something he’d obviously noticed and she hadn’t. To her eyes it just looked a little bruised, but she didn’t pretend to be an expert on ankles… unless of course she was a doctor and didn’t know it?

“Okay. I’m decent.” She yelled when she was ready and watched him enter with the tea tray. On it was some toast, just what she needed, something warm that wouldn’t risk upsetting her stomach and she was hungry. At first he was happy to let her eat and drink her tea and with some food and liquid in her she felt much much better.

He indicated for her to lay down, so he could check her over.

“What is your name and what year is this?” she recognised his questions as being standard for concussion patients, surprised that she knew some things but the important parts about her life were totally blank. But she couldn’t answer, shaking her head and immediately regretted the back and forth movement. The aspirin had started to kick in, but not enough to remove all the ache.

 

[AndyGoat]

He frowned. He knew that you were supposed to ask simple questions to make sure they were alright. The trouble was that he had never learned what was supposed to happen if they couldn't answer. It was bad. The trouble was that they weren't going to be going to the ER until he cut back the tree that had fallen across the drive, and that was a project that was going to take a lot longer than he wanted to leave her alone for.

So he started with what he could do, and began to clean the scarpes and cuts on her legs with ethyl alcohol on cotton balls. After he almost got kicked it the chin, he remembered to warn her it was going to sting. They both had a little laugh, and he nodded to himself. That had to be good. He couldn't really clean the cuts without looking at her legs, and touching them. He couldn't help noticing how beautiful they were, but he tried not to think about it.

After he was finished with her legs and her arms, he did her head. There was a nice bruise forming on the forehead that looked like steering wheel to him, and then a big lump with a gash on her scalp that had made a knotty mess of her hair. He hummed some old song at her while she winced and clenched her fists and endured his attempts to treat her.

She looked exhausted, but she was still cool. He started to run a bath for her, and straightened out the bathroom as best he could. The sink was irreparably stained from his cleaning brushes, but at least it was all basically clean. He got clean towels, and dug his robe out of the back of the closet while the tub filled. When it was full and steaming, he helped her into the bathroom and sat her on the toilet.

"Look," he said, giving her a shy smile. "I think your head is hurt pretty bad, and I don't want you drowning in there. So, just sing or hum or talk or something, so I know you're OK. After that, um ... I don't know if I'm supposed to let you sleep or not, but as soon as I get the drive clear, I'll get you to a hospital."

 

[LadyCara]

She didn't mean to lash out, but she'd been surprised by the sting.Luckily he'd taken it well and she'd turned it into a joke about being a clutz.

She was surprised by the way she was happy to hand over responsibility to him and trusting him to touch her body as he cleaned the scrapes. as he worked on her forehead, she saw concentration there, as if trying to work out what she'd hit it on. It gave her a chance to study his face. It was an honest face, she decided, with clear eyes you could loose yourself in. A face that would light up when he smiled, she decided.

She laid there patiently until he returned and helped her to the bathroom and then he mentioned about the tree across the drive and the hospital. At the word hospital a picture of a guy laying in a hospital bed and the heart monitor dead lining flashed into her head and a great sadness swept over her. It could only have lasted a few seconds, but the image remained, thought nothing else. The blood must have drained out of her face and she felt faint for a moment.

"No! no hospital. please don't take me to the hospital." She could see the concerned look on his face. "I saw a flash, a memory. He died." a tear trickled down her face. "Why don't I remember who died? Who is....was he? God i hate this not remembering. I want to know who I am. Please, just give me time here to get myself together here, not a hospital. Even the word hospital scares me, so what would that actual place do?"

She felt Evan put his arm around her comforting her, until she got herself under control.

"Sorry to be a wet blanket." she said, wiping the tear away. "Guess i'd better get in the bath, don't want that lovely hot water going to waist. And I know my memeory is a bit swiss chese at the moment, but isn't it supposed to be okay to let someone with concussion sleep, so long as you wake them up every couple of hours or so? Not that'd i'd expect you to do that. I'm sure i'd be fine.

Evan helped her to her feet and checked she'd be okay and she smiled at him reassuringly. With toast and tea in her system, she was beginning to feel stronger and less wobbly on her feet.

With Evan the other side of the bathroom door she undressed and eased herself into the bath, relishing the warmth and the feeling of being clean. Carefully she used some of Evan's shampoo, trying to avoid her sore forehead as much as possible. All the while, she was singing "Hey There Delilah' by the Plain white T's. She actually surprised herself by remember 75% of the words. and for the words she didn't know she hummed. She then sang a little of Dolly Parton's 'Stand by your Man' , but didn't know it quite so well. Her singing voice was good, not perfect, but enough that it wouldn't send anyone from the room screaming. When she felt clean, she pulled the plug and tried to get out of the bath. Her bruised ankle protested and slipped from beneath her. Embarrassed she called out to Evan and he came running in.

"Can you help me out of the bath?" she asked, her face turning red "Only i'm having a little trouble."

Evan helped her out of the bath and handed her a towel that she put around herself, appreciating the fact he'd given her the large one.

"Sorry to be so much trouble." she said, sitting on the toilet seat and using another towel to dry her arms, legs and hair, wondering if she dare ask him if she could borrow some of his clothes. Only the thought of putting her dirty ones back on now she was clean didn't really appeal to her.

 

[AndyGoat]

He went up to the loft to see if he could find anything to wear. It was hard to know what would fit, since he was tall and lanky and she was shorter and curvy. Finally he just grabbed a soft flannel shirt and a pair of shorts. It wouldn't be very pretty, but it would be comfortable at least. He climbed back down, and hovered by the bathroom door a minute, then drifted back into the living room.

As fascinating as the presence of a beautiful, naked woman in his bathroom was, he still had to figure out what he was going to do about the show. With her ankle, she wasn't going to be hiking with him, even if for some reason she wanted to. That meant he had to leave her on her own here, which didn't seem right, or take her somewhere. The trouble was that she didn't seem to know where to go. She just didn't want to go to a hospital. If he was honest with himself, he didn't want to let her go either. Even after a night out in the woods and with all her injures, there was something really stunning about her. Not that she'd be the sort to fall for him just because he was helping her out, but still. Just having her there was kind of great.

When she called him, he froze for a moment like a deer in headlights. If she couldn't get out of the bath.... He shook the thought off and tried to calm down. She needed help, she didn't need him acting like some kid who fell to pieces at the thought of a woman's body. Hell, he'd painted dozens of nudes and hardly even given it a thought. It didn't mean he didn't feel himself stiffening as he went into the bathroom.

He reached down and took her wrists, but her feet slipped on the bottom of the tub, and he ended up having to reach around and lift her up bodily. Which meant holding her body against his. He sat her on the toilet and grabbed her a towel as quickly as possible, hoping she wouldn't notice the state that she put him in, and then he looked around for the clothes he had picked out.

Back in the livingroom, on the floor. Right where he'd dropped them. He brought them to her, trying to keep his eyes averted as much as possible, knowing he was blushing like a schoolboy. Just the brief moment he'd seen her seemed imprinted on his mind. He wanted her. He wanted to paint her almost as badly, but he knew she was hurt. The last thing she would be thinking about was modelling for him. Unless it was romance.

"I'll, um, help you back to the couch when you're dressed," he said, and stepped out. He looked down at himself. He was soaked from helping her out of the tub. He tried to adjust himself so his hardon wasn't quite so obvious, and tried to think about anything but her.

 

[LadyCara]

She noticed him turning red, and thought he looked cute, she also wondered what he’d be like to kiss, but guessed she’d probably never know.
She took the clothes and once he had gone changed into them, revelling at their softness against her skin. It felt good to be dressed in clean clothes, and also more comfortable that the clothes she had been wearing, leaving her to surmise that maybe she was more a casual kind of girl, rather than what she had been wearing.

Looking up, she caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror and took a closer look.
“So that’s what I look like.” She said to herself, running a hand through her hair and looking at her green eyes. “Are you going to tell me who I am?” But nothing came back to her, not even a flash of memory, but then again, how often do you look at yourself in the mirror except when checking your appearance.

She called to Evan and he came immediately and helped her to the sofa as she limped along. Gently he lowered her.

All around the walls were paintings, some of picturesque waterfalls and other idyllic scenes and some were of people, including one or two nudes. She noticed that he had a very good eye for detail and a lot of care and attention had gone into them.

“Wow, you’re a brilliant artist. Do you sell them or is it your way of relaxing and unwinding?” she asked openly admiring them.

 

[AndyGoat]

He smiled when he saw her. She somehow managed to make his shorts and t shirt look feminine, which was a trick, especially when she was hobbling. As he helped her across the room, he wondered if maybe she was holding him a little tighter than was absolutely necessary. The thought brightened him, and when he set her back on the couch, he almost regretted not having a reason to hold his arm around her waist.

He was a little lost in his train of thought when she spoke, and he looked around for a moment as if he didn't know quite what she was talking about. Then he nodded, looking as her eyes rested on the nude of Elena, the last girl he'd brought out here, months ago. Three days away from wi-fi and Starbuck's had been more than she could stand. They were still friendly, and she still welcomed him to her bed when he was in the city, but they both knew there was nothing there. There was a lot of that in his life, it seemed. The girls he met when he was in the city weren't interested in living in a cabin in the woods.

"Yeah," he said. "Both, really. I do it because it keeps me right," he tapped his head, to elaborate, "and it's how I make a living, pretty much. Not that I'm getting rich off of it, but I have my first solo show at the end of the month, so that'll be good, I guess."

He sat in an armchair and looked at her. He thought about how soft her lips looked, and how good it would be to kiss her. Then he shook his head, looking away. She was definitely hurt, lost, and probably suffering from some sort of head trauma that made her forget who she was and everything. The last thing she needed to deal with was his horniness.

"I don't suppose you've ever been a model, have you?" The idea just flopped out of his mouth. He winced and tried to explain, but of course he just made it worse. "I just mean that, you know, you're very ... er ... beautiful and I thought that if you didn't mind I.... You know, maybe I should just shut up and go try to clear the road."

 

[LadyCara]

"I don't suppose you've ever been a model, have you?" The idea just flopped out of his mouth. He winced and tried to explain, but of course he just made it worse. "I just mean that, you know, you're very ... er ... beautiful and I thought that if you didn't mind I.... You know, maybe I should just shut up and go try to clear the road."

"If I have then I don't remember it." she winced at her own words. "But I feel I need to repay you in someway, for all your kindness and if i'm honest, i'd love for you to paint me. You really have an eye and you made her look very beautiful. I'm assuming you prefer nude?" she blushed slightly at the thought. "That'd be fine with me. Just so long as it was only you and me." And she knew the last bit was true. The more time she spen with Evan, the more she wanted to stay in his company, be with him. Was this love at first sight, or just that she was grateful to him. She wasn't sure which and hoped it was the former rather than the latter.

Outside, it was starting to get dark and with all that had happened, she began to feel even more sleepy and knew she wouldn't stay awake much longer. Tomorrow, she'd feel more herself and modelling for him would mean she stayed in his company and wouldn't have to do much but allow him to start his painting.

She couldn't help but yawn.

"I'm sorry." she apologised. "I think maybe I need to lay down. Okay if I make myself comfortable on the sofa?" she asked

 

[AndyGoat]

He was glad she yawned when she did. It saved him babbling incoherently about the idea of her modelling nude. Or her even just being nude in general. The yawn reminded him that she had probably been wandering around, lost and confused in a storm most of the night, and that he really didn't need to be thinking about kissing her, or anything like that. He just nodded instead, with what he hoped was an intelligent look on his face.

"I'd love for you to model, however you feel comfortable," he said, and smiled. Then he looked up to the loft. "I'd offer to let you have the bed, but I think the ladder up to the loft would be a little tricky on your ankle."

He was moving things around as he spoke, clearing off the top of an old cedar chest that served as an end table. When he had cleared it, he opened it. It was full of heavy, warm thick blankets, and he draped one over her, smiling. he folded another over the back of the sofa, and then tucked the first carefully around her feet. He grinned at her as he stood up.

"You get some sleep. I'm going to try to get the driveway cleared while there's still a little light. That way, you know, if you need anything...." Her eyes were half-closed already. He smiled, and whispered "Goodnight."

The fallen tree was far enough up the road that he figured the sound of the chainsaw wouldn't bother her. While it did need to get done, he also needed to do something to burn off the nervous energy that was shooting through him like electricity. A few hours of sawing and hauling wood seemed like just the ticket, and if she suddenly remembered who she was, she might need to get out in a hurry. He tried not to think about that.

 

[LadyCara]

"Hey, no worries. The sofa will be fine."

She draped the blankets around her and watched him leave. And as he left, the days events overwhelmed her and tears began to fall, but through it all, the comfort and care Evan had given her pulled her through. She began to think of him as her knight in shinning armour and realised she was very attracted to him.

She knew he had said she could model how she wanted, but she could tell from his pictures that he knew how to appreciate a naked woman.

Her head was aching and her ankle throbbing and though she was tired, doubted she'd be able to sleep properly, but slowly she found herself dozing.

Slowly, she fell into a resless sleep. She was driving along in rain, unable to see where she was going and in the back she could hear her Dad's voice saying 'For God's sake slow down Dee! Are you listening to me Mercedes?' and next to him was her brother yelling 'Dee! Dee!' and then she knew the face, her brothers face was the one she'd seen in her flashback, the one in the hospital.

"Noooo!" she yelled waking suddenly and stumbled out of bed. Instinct took over and she wanted to find the one person who had comforted and been there for the day. "Evan" she yelled, beginning to get scared that maybe he'd been a dream and was dead still.

Confused, scared, she stumbled around the house, calling Evan's name. But remembering her name was Dee was little comfort with images of her brother and father and their funerals flashing through her head.