Always The Hero (Plot Twist, I'm Pregnant 2)

Who was I? I couldn’t place one memory with that name, so what was the point of it? What was the point of anything? It was the same thing, different day. At least today, I was in clean clothes that I washed in a sink and blow-dried under a hand dryer.

I wore one of the few things I had. I had the same outfit the day I was admitted into the hospital. A nightgown. It was clean, and they had washed the blood out of it for me. I had a pair of shorts and a simple t-shirt. I did my best to stay clean because people didn’t like dirty people; that I noticed too.

Right now, I hadn’t showered in a few days, and people curled their noses at me. Tears burned my eyes from the frustration of this life. I wanted more for myself, but I had no idea how to get it. How did someone get a job when they couldn’t remember anything?

When I was released from the hospital, they wanted to take me back home, but that feeling, the haunting grip on my stomach that screamed at me not to go there, took over, and I ran far away. I didn’t want to go home.

And I’ve survived on the streets for the last year, but it was hard. Some days I wondered if I should face my fears and go home, but I couldn’t remember the address.

“Hey.”

I pressed against the red brick wall behind me when I saw the person whose face matched the voice. He held out a bottle of water and a muffin. He was handsome. Blonde hair, blue eyes, tall, the kind of guy I thought I would be interested in. I didn’t know. I hadn’t felt attraction to anyone in the last year. I guess I wouldn’t, considering running was all I knew.

“Here,” he slipped a twenty in my old green beans can that I had taken everywhere with me. “It isn’t much, but I hope it helps.” He placed the bottle of water and muffin on my blanket and stared at me, blonde brows thick and pinched together. “What’s your name?” he asked.

I shook my head and kept my mouth shut. Speaking was still hard. Some words, like writing, came out easier than others, so I did the next best thing. I stopped speaking altogether. It wasn’t good. I needed to practice, but I had no one but myself to practice with, and I didn’t want anyone to think I was crazy.

Because I had witnessed homeless people talking to themselves, and it did look crazy. I knew that.

“Right, I understand. Well, my name is Haden. Haden Brown.” He handed over his card, and he pointed to the numbers on it. “I’d like to help you out.” He took a step forward, and a flash of something in my mind made me stumble. A memory?

I never had memories.

It was a man charging at me, but it was too dark to see any details. Fear. So much fear. I scurried away from Haden when the fear became too much…when it felt too real.

Something bad…

“Okay, I’m sorry. I just hate to see people struggling. Call if you need anything, okay?” The big man turned around and left, his blonde hair in a messy bun on top of his head. As he walked, he looked back at me, and I didn’t know if I needed to fear for my life. What if he was a sex trafficker or something? I had seen plenty of homeless women turn to prostitution, get hooked on drugs, and never be seen again. Countless women and children get taken off the streets, thrown in vans, kicking and screaming, and just like that, they never existed.

Realizing I had twenty-five dollars, I rolled up my blanket, stuffed it in my worn backpack I collected from a dumpster over the last year, and then slipped the clip through the hole I had in the corner of the cardboard and snapped it to my backpack so I didn’t have to carry it.

While walking around so much, I end up scoping out places. I had a favorite spot right next to the water. It was peaceful to wake up to, but the bugs were a bitch. Yesterday, while I was on my way to another corner to ask for change, I noticed a subdivision with half-built homes, which usually meant a temporary place to stay for people like me. I checked one out, found out it had cold and hot water already, and smiled. I could shower there without truckers staring at me with sex in their eyes and erections in their pants.

It scared me to be a young woman on the street. It was only a matter of time before sex would happen, whether I liked it or not.

Instead of going to my usual gas station, a small mom and pop shop on the corner that had homemade pretzels, I walked to the grocery store. It wasn’t every day I had so much money, and I was going to get a good meal, a drink, shampoo, and body wash. If I had enough leftover, I’d buy a hairbrush. It had been way too long since I had combed through my massive mane.

The parking lot was nice; nicer than the areas I was used to going to. The lawn was green and trimmed interrupted by new black pavement, the people coming in and out looked like they stepped out of a magazine. It smelled better over here, fresh and warm from the sun, and people stared at me.

I was out of place with my dirty clothes and skin. I kept my head down. I had money. That was all that mattered. A woman holding the hand of her young daughter pulled her close, mutter

ing into her ear.

Another memory.

Snow. A woman talking to a man in uniform.

And just like that, it was gone. I didn’t even know if it was real, or just my imagination playing tricks on me.

Keeping my eyes averted on the ground as I entered the grocery store, the automatic doors welcomed me, blasting my entire body with cold air conditioning. The relief felt so good. My sweat dried instantly, and the coolness hugged my skin. The security guard, round in the stomach with a white beard, eyed me. I looked like I’d bring trouble. I raised the cash in my hand and gave him a smile, hopefully reassuring him that I wasn’t a thief.

His eyes softened and the wrinkles faded. His hackles were no longer raised.

Pity.

I wanted none of that. I turned right, passing beautiful colorful plants. I forgot what they were called. They smelled wild, some with orange and pink leaves, but they weren’t called leaves, it started with a P, I just couldn’t remember the word. I brought one to my nose, closed my eyes, and inhaled. This smelt sweet, like sugar, and I glanced at the price seeing how much one cost. Two dollars.

Maybe I’d come back for it.