For some reason she couldn’t understand, April’s mouth wasn’t forming words. She kept attempting to speak, only to hear a kind of moan come out, a foreign sounding voice croaking out of her own throat. Drugs, that must be it. They must have used drugs. But what did they want? April found that trying to piece together her abduction was nearly impossible. She thought something must be wrong with her memory, it was playing tricks on her just like her eyes. It was taking strings of events, tying and knotting them together, until she wasn’t sure what happened. Dreams and reality, past and present, they were all undistinguishable to her. As her mind slowly began to clear, it gave way to more and more pain in her head. She felt as if she had a hangover or a bad cold. Through the pain, April again tried to piece her shattered memories together, though she had precious little to work with. There was at least one face she’d seen before, which now swam around in the turbulence of her pounding. In about an hour she had finished recounting her story. Both her parents died when she was eleven. She went to live with her aunt and uncle. She left home when she was s*******n and has been on the road ever since. I asked her how long she had lived on the road and she said two years which confirmed her age to be nineteen years. Further enquiries revealed that she never stayed in the same place for more than a week. And so far she had stayed with me for two days. I was desperately counting the days. I hadn’t had an episode since she walked into my life and now I had five days more until that nightmarish hell found me in my dreams again. When I went to work I was wary of leaving her alone in the house but I thought to myself and said if she did steal my stuff it would be worth it for all the work she had done in the house., nursing me to sleep and cooking for me. I always came to find her waiting for me dinner at the ready. On her seventh day with me, I had prepared something special.
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