Fallen into Shadows

by Mona Liza

Bo, "It�s going to be tricky trying to get info without arousing suspicion, but this is the best lead we�ve had so far."

Steve, "Don�t worry man. I�ll just do a little checking around at first. Might have to hang around a couple of days there. I�ll get my pal at Cincy working on it too. It shouldn�t take him too long to dig up any dirt."

Bo, "Thanks Bro! I just hope this works. I�ll get John up to date with what�s going on. I feel bad not letting Roman in on all this�"

Steve, "No it�s better that we keep it between we three for now. The less people who know the better. I should be there in 30 minutes or so. I�ll get back to you later tonight. "

Bo, "Okay, I�ll be waiting."

Steve steered off to a small road, rather than staying on the main highway. He wasn�t sure, but he had a feeling someone was following him. He checked his rearview mirror, but the road was clear behind him. Still he couldn�t shake the feeling that something wasn�t right. For a few minutes he kept glancing behind, expecting to see a car off in the distance, but the road remained empty.

He looked around and saw the lake coming up on his right. It was pretty and secluded here. A nice place to build a house and live with a family. Kayla would love it here, he thought. Kayla, he spoke her name with a sigh. He still couldn�t remember anything. Nothing! He felt a pull towards her, but nothing more. It was like coming up a brick wall, and the wall was everywhere.

Each time he looked into Kayla�s face, he tried to remember. He could see the hope in her eyes, the need for him to recognize her, but there was nothing he could grasp. No more images came to him. He was standing on the other side of the wall, it�s four sides surrounding him, keeping him prisoner. It was all darkness. All empty. He was there by himself. Steve rubbed his eye with the back of his hand. He felt so tired. He felt so damn tired.

As he focused once again on the road ahead the tip of the rooftop appeared. The view grew clearer as the house revealed itself to him. Not truly a house since it strongly resembled a castle. Majestic and grand, it stood just at the lake�s shores. A frown crossed Steve�s face as his gaze turned towards the dwelling. An image came to him, of dark paneled walls, of sitting in an armchair, unable to move but listening.

The pain came swift and strong. Like a dagger to his heart, Steve grabbed his chest as a throbbing pain engulfed him. The car slid and went off the side of the road. He crashed into a ditch, banging his head on the steering wheel. Stunned and injured he sat in the driver�s seat trying to recover. A trickle of blood flowed down his cheek. He could feel the pain on his forehead where he struck the wheel. He needed to get some help. He slowly got out of the car and inspected the damage. He felt slightly dizzy as he looked over the car. The damages seemed minimal, scratches here and there, broken headlight. Looks like all he needed was to get the car out of the ditch. But first he needed get his head injury taken care of.

He looked around and saw how isolated this place was. Apart from the house, he couldn�t see any other homes. The dizziness was fading, but the pain was growing. He looked towards the house as a coldness and dread grew inside of him. Glancing inside the car, he was tempted to call Bo and tell him what happened. As he reached for his phone, he paused and looked back towards the house. Another image, stronger and clearer than the previous one came upon him of eyes as clear and lifeless as water and there was a voice, a haunting, mesmerizing voice.

Sweat formed at his temples and he grew fearful. His hands shook as he stood, deciding whether or not to go there. He felt a pull towards the house and was fighting it. If only he wasn�t injured, if only he was stronger, but right now he was tired and weak. He could only fight back so much. Steve decided then, he took shaky steps up the ditch and reaching the road, walked slowly and warily towards the house. He couldn�t admit it, but he was scared.

He stood at the front door and knocked. "Hello? Hello? I �is anyone home?" More knocks as silence greets him. "Hello, I need some help! Please, is anyone in there?� Steve looks through the windows and barely makes out the furniture in the dimness. He hesitates a moment before taking out a knife and picking the lock. The door opens and he steps inside. It�s dark and dim inside, with the curtains drawn shut in the room. Steve takes a few steps in and calls out again. "Hello? Anybody home? I�m sorry to trespass but I need some help! Hello?"

He walks from room to room, the darkness is everywhere. Maybe it�s abandoned he thinks at first, but there�s no dust on the furniture. Maybe it�s a weekend home? It�s quiet, so much so, he can hear his own breathing.

"Well if no one�s home, I�ll have to look around for myself. Got to find a medicine cabinet here. So where�s the bathroom?" Talking aloud, Steve wanders from room to room before ascending the stairs. His footsteps are loud and strong in the silence. "I�m just going to bandage myself up and leave. This place gives me bad vibes, man. I don�t like it here at all." He reaches the second floor and looks down the long hallway. There are close to a half a dozen doors on each side. "Oh, this is good! Just like Blackbeard�s home! I bet he�s hiding behind one of these doors ready to attack me." He takes a deep breath and starts at the first door on his left.

Bedroom! Another bedroom! Another bedroom! "So where the heck do they unload." The pain in his head is still present and the dizziness has returned slightly. "Man, I need to find some aspirin and now!" Another room, but this one is locked. "Yeah, figures. This one�s probably the bathroom." A closet! A sewing room? He grows frustrated as more rooms are looked through and passed. "What is this, Alice in Wonderland via Salem? Come on man!"

He feels it then, something just behind him and he turns quickly to look. The motion causes him to loose his balance as he grabs at a nearby table for support. "That was a dumb move." He steadies himself as looks back down the hall. No one�s there, but there�s the feeling of not being alone. "Hello! Look I just want to get some bandages and aspirin. I got into a car accident outside. I just need some help." He calls out again. "I�m sorry I had to break in. Look, I�ll pay for damaging the door lock." He feels his uneasiness grow more. He�s not alone here, he feels it.

The hairs on the back of his neck are up and he feels his heart pounding in his chest. "Okay, this was a bad idea!" Fine, he thought. I�ll just go back to the car and call Bo. Steve starts to go back down the hall when a sound stops him. He pauses and listens as the sound of a soft footstep is heard again. He turns slowly and continues to listen. He eyes the door at the end of the hall. At the opening at the door�s bottom, he sees a slight movement as though someone was walking just beyond. After a moment of hesitation he approaches, standing just outside the door. He takes a hold of the doorknob and turns to open. Inside is another bedroom, beautifully furnished, with full bay windows facing the lake. He takes a few steps inside and stops. The room is bright compared to the rest of the house. The sunlight from the window lights up the room as he is temporarily blinded by the strong sunbeams. After a few moments he adjusts and can see more clearly.

Sitting at a writing table by the window he sees her, a small woman with long flowing hair, writing at the desk, seemingly unaware of his presence. She looks out the window, then glances down to write something. He cannot see her face yet. She appears small and petite. Her hair is a shade of auburn with curls down to her waist. She still has her back to him. He cannot see her face. He cannot see her eyes, but something tells him he knows what they look like. His breathing goes erratic, as his breaths grow deeper and more labored. He wants to step away from here, get as far away as he can, but he is rooted as he stands. A pain starts again, not his in head, but in his heart. It�s strong and deep and grows more hurtful as the seconds come and go. He looks at the back of her and feels his strength failing. Somehow she is hurting him.

He clears his throat unconsciously. "Miss?" Pause "Excuse me Miss?" Her movements are slow, dream like as she turns to face him. She has a beautiful face. A clear unblemished complexion, but her beauty is haunted, troubled. Her eyes, bluish gray and clear as water are bottomless. Lifelessly they look back at him. Steve takes a few steps towards her. She seemed young at first glance, but closer, he sees she is more mature, much older. She has yet to speak. Slowly rising from her chair she approaches him looking at the injury on his head.

"You are hurt." The words are softly spoken and slices through the silence like a knife. "Sit here." She motions to another chair. "I will get some things and clean up the wound." She looks straight at him as Steve follows her soft command. He feels confused as he sits down. Her voice is soft, soothing, making him relaxed. He feels a little sleepy just then. If I could just lie down and sleep for a few minutes he thinks, but as his eye start to close a voice inside tells him to wake up. Don�t let her� "Huh? What?" He comes to, looking startled and uneasy. He looks over at the door where she disappeared to but she hasn�t returned yet.

He glances around the room, noticing the rich furnishings. Everything is very clean, neat, properly in order. It looks picture perfect. On the walls hang a few paintings. Leather bound books line the shelves of a cherry wood bookcase. A vase of flowers and water goblets occupy the table nearest him. When he looks towards the bay window, he notices the etchings that line the top of the glass pane.

"San teeth, sans eyes, sans taste, sans everything." "They say best men are molded out of faults and for the most, become much more the better for being a little bad." "I do love nothing in the world so well as you!" "A pound of flesh, nearest the heart."

What the hell is this! They were written across the entire top of the window. The words were etched into the glass, so as to remain there for all time. She came back just then carrying a washcloth, a small bowl, bottle of water, some other small bottles and bandages. She stands just to his right and lays the articles on the table next to him.

"Here, take this." She places two pills in his hand. "Aspirin, for the pain" She reaches for an empty glass on the table and fills it up with water. She hands him the glass as he looks warily at the pills in his hand. He looks up to see her soft eyes looking down at him. There is no malice there. He takes the glass and swallows both pills. He drinks the rest of the water before laying the glass back on the table. He didn�t realize how thirsty he was until then.

She filled the small bowl with water and dipped the washcloth in. She wiped away the dried blood on his forehead and examined wound and bump that had already formed. She worked quickly and quietly. Steve tried to sit still, but inside, he was jumpy and uneasy.

"Uh�Thanks. I, uh�just needed to get this cut fixed up, then I�ll be going." She continued cleaning his wound with water then reached for a smaller bottle. She poured some of the liquid unto the washcloth and applied it to Steve�s cut. A stinging pain made him wince as the antiseptic cleaned away at his injury.

"Sorry about the pain."

"Yeah. Well, I�ll live."

"Yes, you will.� she said softly. He looked up at her, eyeing her carefully. Her gaze was still on his wound. She was dabbing the washcloth over his forehead.

"Look, I�m sorry I had to pick the lock. If it�s damaged, I�ll pay for the repairs." He looked down, wincing slightly as the stinging of his wounds still throbbed. She didn�t answer him, but picked up some gauze and applied a bandage. Her touch was gentle, like a nurse. He looked over at the window, noticing the slight fading of sunlight. He scanned the written words again on the glass pane. "A pound of flesh, nearest the heart." Just whose heart are we talking of!

"Are those from the bible?" He motioned with his hand towards the glass pane.

"Shakespeare."

"Right, Shakespeare! Knew that!" She finishes with the bandage but continues to look over his injury. She pokes slightly at the small raised bump and Steve draws back in pain.

"It�s quite a nasty bump! You may have a slight concussion. I�ll get some ice to put on that so the swelling will go down."

Steve nods in agreement and tries to relax in the armchair. He realizes he doesn�t know her name, and he never told her his.

"Ah, look Miss, My name�s Nic�Steve."

"Yes NickSteve." She looks straight at him. Her gaze never wavers or falters.

"I mean Steve."

"Yes Steve." Still she looks straight at him, without fear, without caution, without emotion. A lifeless look.

"I can�t keep calling you Miss. Your name?"

She doesn�t answer him right away. She gathers the items she has brought, takes then in her arms and starts to walk back to the bathroom to return them. She stops by the door and turns back around to answer him.

"Portia"

"Porsche? Like the car?"

"No it�s Portia. As in, The Merchant of Venice." Steve looks confused at her reply. She motion with her head towards the glass etchings. "You know, Shakespeare."

"Right, Shakespeare!"

"I'll return soon with the ice. Why don't you close your eye and get a little rest. You must be tired " She stands by the door looking at him. Her face is expressionless. It's almost as though she is reading off a cue card. Her voice lingers in the air. He could feel it near him, soothing his fears, holding him still in the chair. Fighting against the urge to sleep, he tries to keep his eye open but grows more tired. Before he gives in to sleep he looks towards the bathroom door. There is no one there. He is all alone. As his eye begins to close, he hears her again.

Close your eye and rest. Close your eye and rest Steve.

The feel of the ice pack against his head startles him awake. "Just relax. You'll be alright." His eyelid felt so heavy as he tries to open it. Once again she stands just in front of him, her hand holding the ice to his forehead. He reaches up to grab hold of the ice pack and touches her hand. "Thanks, I can do that.� he tells her. She places the ice into his hand as she lets go. She moves a chair close to him and sits down. Her face is towards him, but she does not see him. Her gaze is vacant, looking off into the distance, seeing nothing. Steve feels tired, but rested. He doesn't know how much time has past since he got there. He looks towards the window and notices that darker shadows outside. It must be late afternoon already.

Only then does he notice the tray of food on the table. His stomach grumbles just then, signaling how long it's been since he last ate. If it's late afternoon, he's definitely missed lunch. He looks at the food and then at his hostess. She is so quiet, a motionless figure sitting still as death in the chair. He looks at her and feels something, a connection? Her face is not familiar, but he is drawn to her. The silence around them is strong and he grows more uncomfortable. Finally she seems to see him and notices his glances at the food. She stands then and pours some coffee for him.

"Please eat while it's still warm." She takes the ice pack from his hand and looks over the bump. "The swelling has gone down, but it's still tender."

"Thank you for all your help." Steve tries to get up, but she gently keeps him in his seat and tells him to eat.

"Go on. You'll feel better once you've eaten."

He picks up the knife and fork and eats quickly at the tender slices of meat and vegetables in the plate. He takes big gulps of coffee spilling some on his shirt. He looks down at the small drops and feels embarrassed at his poor table manners. He looks over to Portia only to be rewarded with the same vacant stare. Wiping away the droplets around his mouth he eats slower. The food is good and it makes him feel strong. He looks down at his watch and sees it is now four thirty.

"I fell asleep?' A stupid question really, but he asks it all the same.

She nods in the affirmative but says nothing. He finishes off his meal and tries to gets up. As he stands, he feels slightly dizzy and grabs hold of the chair sitting back down. "I'm suppose to be at Brymera checking things out", he thinks to himself. She rises from her chair and comes over to him.

"You need to stay still. The injury to your head is better, but you're in no condition to be going anywhere."

"No I have to be somewhere. I was suppose to go to..."

"You can't even stand without feeling dizzy."

"Bo will be wondering what happened to me", Steve thinks. I need to get up and get out of here. But as he tries to get up again, his quick movements bring on another wave of dizziness.

"You have a slight concussion. You need to get some more rest."

"No, I can't stay!"

"Steve, " she calls his name and instantly his movements grow still. "Just relax. Stay the night and get more rest. You'll be better to travel in the morning." Steve looks up at her and for a moment he imagines he is a little boy and she is his mother telling him to go to sleep now. Her soft voice makes him want to feel safe, but an underlying sense of danger seems hidden just beneath. He feels the danger, but he cannot say it. She has done him no harm, but he is scared of her.

"You can stay here", she says indicating the room. "The bathroom's just over there", she is pointing to the door where she went to get the medicine and bandages earlier. She picked up the tray but left the coffee pot and cup on the table. "If you need me, I'll be in the room two doors down on the left. Don't worry, everything will be better in the morning."

She walked out the door and left him alone. Steve stood up slowly. He felt a little lightheaded and thought he should just try to leave. He got as far as the door before he remembered his car was still in the ditch. Even if he could drive, there was no way he could get that car out. At least he could call Bo and tell him what happened. He left his cell phone in the car. "Great, just great!" he thought. He opened the door and looked down the dark hallway. Portia must have gone downstairs already. He started to walk but as he got closer to the stairs his grew weaker and felt so tired.

"I had better lie down a moment" he thought and started back to him room. As he walked back he passed by the room she said she would occupy that night, just outside her door he noticed a portrait. It looked to be a picture of Portia when she was young. In the picture she was smiling and he thought she was really quite beautiful. He looked at her picture and a strange thought came to him. Her smile reminded him of someone. "It's strange, but she reminds me of Shawn Brady". Back in his room, Steve lies down on the bed and closes his eye. "I just need to rest a few minutes. Then I'll go down, get the phone and call Bo. Just a few minutes." he says aloud. His easily falls asleep moments later. The door opens again and Portia enters and places his cell phone by the bedside table. She takes a long look at Steve, an overwhelming sadness filling her eyes. She walks quietly over and covers him with the blanket before leaving.

Steve wakes up in the darkness. For a moment he cannot remember where he is and he panics. The old fear hits him and he feels he is reliving the same nightmare all over again. Then as he slowly remembers he lets out a long sigh of relief as he searches for the light switch on the lamp. Light floods the dark room and he gets up and goes to use the bathroom. He finds a new toothbrush at the sink and silently thanks Portia for her thoughtfulness. He splashes water on his face and uses the towel she left out for him. He looks at his watch to check the time. It's past eleven. He goes back to the bedroom and stands by the bed. Surprised he sees his cell phone by the lamp and tries to call Bo.

 He cannot get a signal and the battery light is blinking at him. "Of course, the battery's low! What a surprise!" he says sarcastically. He looks around the room looking for a phone but cannot see one. Probably one downstairs he thinks. He makes his way down the hall again and reaches the stairs. He sees a dim light coming from one of the rooms below. Portia must still be up. He walks slowly down the stairs and towards the room. He looks in to see Portia standing by a bookcase, looking at the row of books in front of her. Her back is towards him again, but he can somehow see her eyes, those haunting, clear as water, gray eyes.

 She turns then as she hears his approach. "You should be resting,� she tells him.

"I need to use your phone. I need to call a friend. My cell's not working. Batteries dying." He looked around the room and saw it was the library. All the walls were lines with Cherry wood bookshelves. Portia looked at him but remained silent a moment.

Then she spoke. "I'm sorry, but my phone is not working right now." He replies in exasperation! "Right!" Steve said. "Guess I'll have to wait until morning." Damn he thought. If Bo doesn't hear from me, he might think something is wrong. Will he come out looking for me? But he won't find me here.

Steve looks at her as she turns her gaze away towards another row of books. She seemed to be looking for something, but she wasn't reaching out to take any one book. A question builds inside Steve as he takes a step closer to her. She doesn't seem familiar, but somehow he knows her? "Portia?" he calls to her as his question remains still on his lips. He comes to stand beside her. Her eyes are still on the row of books as he asks her, "Portia, do I know you?"

Her gaze moves ever so slowly away from the books and on to Steve's face. For a moment, he thought he saw the briefest hint of emotions in her eyes. It was a flash of fear that came and went. He didn't know what he wanted her to say. Maybe he wanted her to be someone he knew? He didn't remember people. Sometimes he met someone and forgot about them days later. His memory wasn't stable, not since he woke up in that motel room sixteen years ago. But with Portia, it wasn't just a resemblance to someone else. He felt something with her. A connection that was binding him to her. Was she a relative? An old friend?

She still had not answered him. She glanced down a moment before looking back at him. She took a deep breath and replied. "Unfortunately, you do."

This time the sadness was evident in her eyes. He looked deep with them and saw a darkness so consuming, he felt he would be lost forever in them. The fear he felt about her grew then, slowly at first until it filled up his heart. He took a step away from her, then another, until he wanted to run as far as he could from her sight. Her eyes sought his and he could feel a coldness creeping up around him. Then a blinding pain filled him and he fell to the ground. What was happening to him? Did she poison his food? The pain was everywhere. He was hurting. A hurt so strong he wanted to die right then and there.

He hurt so badly. His arms felt useless. His legs could not support him. His chest felt as though there were dozens of cuts all over. A ringing filled his ears and he could not open his eye. He tried reaching out and the air around him bit into his skin and he yelled out in pain. He was dying!

"Stand up Steve." Her voice cut across the pain, calling to him. He could feel her pulling at him, pulling him back from the darkness. But she was the one who place him there. She was the one who took the light away. Again she called out to him, her voice gentle, but firm. "Steve, just stand. It's okay. The pain is gone." "I promise."

He tried to get up and expected to fall down again, but the pain was gone. There was nothing left. He stood, taking deep breaths. He felt his arms, his chest that moments before ached, but now he was fine. It was almost as though nothing happened. He looks at her, a fearful look, but she no longer felt threatening. It feels peaceful now. What was going on?

"Come Steve, sit down a moment." She leads him to a nearby chair. " Would you like a glass of water?" She pours him a glass and he takes it and drinks it down quickly. Just moments before he believed she could have poisoned him and now he drinks without any reservations. He realizes he trusts her as quickly as he fears her. "I knew you?" he asks questioningly.

"Yes." her eyes are sad. She looks at him with sorrow.

"Were we friends?"

"No." She says the single word and it hangs in the air for the longest time. "Not friends." If we're not friends then what? Are we family?

"I don't want to tell you."

"Don't want to tell me? What the hell does that mean?" There is anger now, but he cannot help it. Alone in the darkness, that's where he's been. It's been so dark all this time. He doesn't want to live in shadows anymore. He can't live that way anymore.

"Not yet. In a little while." She touches his shoulder and holds his hand. "When you're stronger, you'll be able to...take the pain. Just wait a little longer."

"Pain? You mean the pain I felt minutes ago. Is that what your talking about?"

"The pain will kill you if you're not strong enough." She looks down at him, but her gaze is elsewhere. Her eyes are lost again. "The pain will be worse than death if you cannot understand it." "Go back upstairs and sleep Steve. You must be strong for this to end." Portia leads him up gently from the chair and onto the stairs. "Sleep, get some sleep." She reaches out and places her hand on his. "Goodnight." He climbs the stairs slowly and makes his way back to the bedroom.

Steve sits on the bed a long while remembering the pain he felt. It was his whole body in pain, there was no part that did not hurt. If she hadn't called out to him, hadn't brought him back from that pain, he really wanted to die then. How was he going to survive that pain again? He didn't want to think on it anymore. He looked at his watch and saw it was nearing midnight. He took off his shoes and sprawled out on top of the covers. He was so tired now, tired and weak. Just how strong did he need to be? He didn't know. He just didn't know. As he closed his eye and sleep claimed him, he thought he heard her voice again. Calming and soothing him, "You'll remember all you need to know." He opened his eye and saw the lamplight was still on. He reached over and turned off the light. As he lay there in darkness, he knew he didn't imagine her voice just then. He heard it, of that he was certain.

He was being dragged down the hall. He felt so weak, but they pulled at his arms and half carried him to the room. The room was dark and it felt cold. He didn't have a shirt on and he shivered as they pushed him down in the chair. Someone grabs his hands and roughly ties them together with rope. The ropes cut into his skin as he tries to open his eye. He feels so ill. He tries to remember what happened. A hospital room, someone crying, holding him. He felt as though his heart was torn from his chest, then silence. He couldn't hear, not his voice, nothing. The darkness came next and filled every space where the light fell until it was all gone. He couldn't find his way. He was lost!

"Steve?" a voice calls out. Steve? Is that my name? I don't know my name!

It's a female voice, gentle, soft, I lean toward the sound. My eye is still close and I try to open it. I am in the dark room, but where? "Steve..." the voice calls to me again. Am I Steve? Who am I? I feel someone pulling at the ropes on my hand. They are wrapped tightly and it hurts as they are pulled at. Finally my hands are free and I pull them towards myself. "Don't worry. It will be over soon." I am helped up and led towards a bed. I lay myself down and reach for a blanket

"Please help me!" I call out. I reach out a hand but grab at nothing! "Please, can you help me! I don't know where I am."

I am trying to remember, but all I get are foggy images. Unfamiliar faces cross through my mind as I try to remember. Steve, my name is Steve, I tell myself. But I don't know who I am. I cry then, I cannot help it. I don't know who I am. Who am I?

I was left alone a long while. I must have fallen asleep. I'm not sure but when I awoke it felt as though hours had passed. I look around the room. I am still alone. There is a table nearby with water and some food. I try to get up, but there is pain. I feel as though my whole body is bruised. I finally stand and walk to the table. I drink some water and my throat hurts. I try to eat some food, but it's so painful. I sit at the chair and try to think. I look at my hands and see the bruises from the ropes. Where am I? Nothing looks familiar. I try to remember. Steve, the name comes to me. I am Steve and, and ....I died?

I died! I remember a hospital room and a woman, my wife! My wife crying over me. Yes, I remember! But what else, everything is still lost. I hear a noise just now and see someone entering the room. I cannot make him out for my eye is blurred. He approaches me but says nothing. I try to see who it is. It's not a man. A woman? Yes, a woman! Are you my wife? Who are you?

"It's the serum. Don't worry, you'll start to feel better once it passes out of your system."

"Serum? What Serum? Who are you?"

"Please just rest. Try and eat some food ."

"My throat hurts. I can't eat anything." I try to talk but the pain grows stronger. I need answers. Why won't you tell me?

"Very soon. It will all end very soon." A hand strokes at my hair and I shiver in fear!

"It will end? What do you mean?' I ask again but the darkness returns. I am falling deeper into darkness. "No !" I cry out. "No!"

I slept again. Has another day gone by? I don't know. I look around and see someone sitting by the table. A woman, but I don't know her. She has long auburn hair and looks so small. She looks over at me, a sad expression on her face. She stands and pours a glass of water and brings it to me. I drink it greedily. My throat still hurts, but not so much now. I reach over to take some food and eat it quickly.

I stand and walk over to the door. It's not locked! I look back at the woman. She is sitting on a stool and is looking up at me. Her eyes are mesmerizing. A bluish gray in color. A strange color. Almost like looking through water.

I need to leave from here. I reached for the doorknob, but she calls to me to stay and I obey.

"Steve, come back and sit down." I walk back to my chair and sit. I do as I am told. Why? Why do I follow her?

"Do you remember now?' She asks me. I think, yes, I remember. I know who I am. I am Steve and I live in...Salem? I have family and friends there. I have... a wife, a child? And I died! I died? I don't understand what happened. I need to go home! My family. I need to go to my family!

The woman looks at me as tears roll down her face. Why is she crying? I don't understand. "It's the only way," she says. "It's the only way to keep you alive. Otherwise you'll die. You'll all die." She stands up and walks towards the door. "Soon now." she says. "It will be over soon." She opens the door and takes a step outside. Just before she closes the door behind her she speaks again. "I'm sorry. But it's all I can do for you. It's all I am able to do to save you." the door closes behind her and I am left alone.

I sit and wait for her return. There must be something else. She can help me leave. Am I being held prisoner? I try the door and it's locked this time. I walk around the room, back and forth, waiting. I have to get back to Salem. They all think I'm dead! I've got to get home to...Kayla! My wife. I love you so much! I'm not dead! You have to know I didn't die.

Where did the woman go? Maybe she changed her mind and will help me leave? Please help me? Please help me go back home!

I hear voices on the other side of the door. I put my ear up against the door to listen. The voices are muffled, but I can make out some words. Two people are arguing. Is one the woman? And the other person? I can't tell if it's a man or a woman. I can barely make out what they're saying.

"He... no memory,... threat...gone!" I can do.... Save...lives..." "Promise me.... no ...death" "It will be done!

What will be done?

Then silence. One set of footsteps walk away, but someone is still outside my door. I step back as the doorknob turns and the woman returns. She doesn't seem so surprised to see me standing just inside the room. She closes the door behind her and walks towards the armchair I was sitting in.

"Come here Steve." She calls me. I start walking towards her. Why? I cannot stop myself. She has drugged me, that's why I cannot refuse her. "Just listen to my voice Steve. Just relax and listen to my voice."

"Sit down in the chair and lay your hands on the armrest." I do as I am asked. I have no will against her. Her voice, it's trapping me against my will. How can she do this? How is she able to do this?

"Are you comfortable?' She asks. I nod yes.

"Good! Now just listen to me. Listen to the sound of my voice. Don't fight it."

I don�t want to listen. Please! I plead with my eyes, please help me leave! I cannot move my arms. My legs feel like they are weighed down with lead. It feels like they are tied down but there�re not. There are no ropes around me. I am just sitting here, listening. I can turn my head towards the woman. I try to tell her to help me, but I cannot speak. My Voice! Nothing comes out, no matter how hard I try. She is sitting on a stool in front of me and looks directly into my eye. Her eyes are gentle, but she holds me prisoner. I don�t understand! I don�t understand!

"Look at me and listen." Her voice is so soothing, I feel so comfortable, so at ease.

"Are you looking me at me?" I nod.

"Can you see only me?" I nod

"Are you listening to my voice?" I nod

"Listen to me. Listen and obey me." I try to fight. I try to move and run away, but I cannot. Your voice traps me. I am powerless to leave. I can do nothing against you.

"Steve, I have to take it all away. Whatever you have will be lost to you." I look at her and feel the darkness. It lingers just outside. I don�t want it near me.

"I�m sorry, but I have to leave you with nothing." The darkness creeps closer to me. I cannot stop it.

"Everything you know, everything you have seen and heard is gone." An image of party comes to me then disappears. I was with these guys� who were they? I cannot remember. More quick flashes of faces come to me then disappear. I know those people! But I cannot remember them? Why?

"Every friend, every relative you have is now gone." An image, I am being hugged by my friend? Who is he? I see his face for an instant and then nothing. It is all darkness. Another face comes to me, a pretty young woman, she is crying and I want to help her. She was hurt by�? I try to hold her in my arms, but she is no longer there. The darkness is at my feet and I feel cold.

The faces come at me from everywhere. Are these people I know? Some are smiling, some look at me with anger. A voice yells out "I hate you!" and I see a young man with hatred in his eyes. His face changes to a smile and then he�s gone. A small child is waiting for me. He has fair hair, but says nothing. Silence surrounds him. I do not know his name! Why don�t I know him!

I see room with a bed and little furniture. It�s dark and dim, but I feel at home there. The room grows darker until it dissolves into the darkness. Then it�s a house, big rooms, flowers, everything here is beautiful, there is light, there is laughter, there is love everywhere. The darkness follows me there. It starts at the sides and covers everything until nothing is left. It moves quickly, forcefully, taking everything and leaving me nothing.

The pain starts, deep in my heart as it is all taken from me. I feel tears at my eyes, but they do not fall. I cannot cry yet. I still have something. Do not take that from me! Oh God!

"I take your family from you. I take your laughter and tears, I take those you love. Now you must kiss them goodbye. They are no longer yours!"

She is an angel! I hold her tiny form in my arms. I�ll do anything to keep her safe. Her tiny fingers grab at my cheek as her smiles melt the sadness in my heart. I lean down to kiss her and kiss nothing. She is gone from me. She is taken away. My angel, my little sweet angel! Give her back to me. I cry then! I am filled with fear and pain. It all hurts.

I am covered in shadows. The darkness waits for me. It waits to cover me whole and bury me forever. No! You cannot win. I won�t let you. The pain is consuming me. With each breath the pain grows. I can no longer feel my arms, my legs. I try to look beyond the shadows. It�s there, a single light left. I force myself towards it and fall into her arms. She is so beautiful. Everything around her speaks of love. A love that is eternal and never ending. She is my salvation! She is my life! She looks at me with tears and a sadness that tears at my soul. I try to touch her, to hold her, but my arms will not reach.

I use the last ounce of strength left in me and hold her in my arms. I love you! I tell her I love you forever! I am afraid to let go. I feel her slipping away from me. Her face begins to waver and fall apart. Desperately I reach out to her, but my hands grab only the air. I am yanked away and the distance between us grows larger and larger.

"I take your life from you. I leave you in darkness, for the darkness will be your companion from now on. Listen and obey me, Steve."

She is so far away from me. I pull at the darkness that binds me. The shadows tears at my clothes, at my skin leaving scars that reach my soul. Come back to me! I will not lose you! Only a small light in the distance is left. The darkness is here, waiting, waiting to bury me whole.

"Steven Earl Johnson, I take your life from you, I take your memories and leave you in darkness. You will have nothing. You are all alone!"

One last image is given. She is before me, kneeling, her eyes filled with tears of joy and love. We become one at that moment. She pledges her love to me, now and forever, She is mine for all time. It is the last thing I am given before I am lost in the darkness "Sweetness!" I cry. "Sweetness!"

"Forget! Forget all you have known! You are no one now!"

I am lost, buried beneath shadows I cannot break from. I cannot see, I do not hear, I cannot feel anything but the darkness. I have become nothing!

Portia stands by the bedside. He cries out in sorrow and pain, fighting against the darkness that eats at him. He raises his hand for protection, but nothing can stop the shadows from reaching him. He thrashes on the bed, still lost in torment of the past. A single word escapes him "Sweetness!" he cries out. A word ripped from his soul.

 She lays her hand over his heart and his wild movements cease.

"Forget Steve. Forget all, but what you need to know."

 His breathing, which was wild and uncontrolled, is now calm. His heartbeat is slowing and the pain has left him. A calm returns to his face. The dream has ended and finally left him. A peaceful sleep comes to him as the first rays of sunlight come through the window. Portia looks at the etchings as they are illuminated by the sun�s beams. She reads the one first touched by the new day�s light.

Part 3. Released from darkness, I emerge from the shadows.

The sun�s beams streak across his face, warming his cheeks as he awakens. The room is brightly lit. All that is around him is bathed in a warm glow. He eases himself up to a sitting position and looks around the room. A second of confusion passes and he remembers where he is. The house by the lake. His hand comes up to his face as he wipes the last visage of sleep away. He feels the dampness on his forehead and behind his neck. His shirt clings to his back as he swings his legs over and tries to stand.

A faint memory of something gnaws at him. An image of �something? He cannot remember. He feels the answer just near him, waiting to be found. He had a dream, a dream that has slipped away as the night ended. He never really remembered his dreams, but there was something about this one. A feeling. Of something lost and taken away. He wanted to capture it but it eluded him. He could almost remember the beating of his heart as the heavy burden was placed upon him. He thought his heart would burst and then peace. What was it? In this new fresh day, there was nothing for him to grasp but a fleeting lost feeling. It was there before him and it wasn�t. It was real and imagined. He had no answers.

A nice hot shower and he felt like a new man. She left some clean clothes for him on the chair. They looked new, which was strange. The clothes fit him well as he looked at himself in the mirror. Why would she have new men�s clothes? Did these belong to her husband? Her son? She seemed to anticipate his needs. Clothes. A toothbrush. His cell phone? He took it from the table and tried to call. The battery light had gone out. He would need to re-charge it first.

He looked around the first floor and finally found her in a room by the library. She was sitting at a small breakfast table. She had set a place setting for him across from her. He felt his hunger as the aroma of the food reached him. He came up behind as she turned to face him. "Good morning!" He greeted her warmly. He felt good this morning. He had a good rest last night.

She said nothing in return. Instead she stood up and poured some coffee for him. He looked over at her as she sat back down. She didn�t touch her food even though there was still some left on her plate. He wondered if she was still eating or had finished. He was ravenous and just started eating with out waiting for her to tell him. In the early morning light, he looked closely at her again and the same feeling of recognition struck at him. He was more certain of it now, there was a resemblance to Shawn Brady. They had the same mouth.

He thought about this similarity between Shawn and Portia. She said they knew each other last night so could she be a relative? He didn�t know anything about Shawn's family. Perhaps she was a relative. He tried to see if there was any resemblance to Kayla, but there was nothing. Maybe he was wrong after all. She really didn�t look much like Shawn. Even if she smiled, that was the only similarity.

She was looking at him while he ate. It was the same far off look. He had to admit, it made him nervous. She never really said much either. Her responses were mostly short. Except for last night, when she told him he needed to be strong or he wouldn't live through the pain. He didn't want to think about that now. With the sunlight streaming through the window and the delicious breakfast on his plate, the last thing he wanted to think of was enduring the pain again. It was then that he noticed the windows in this room also had writings on them. As in the bedroom upstairs, they were etched across the top of the glass pane. There were two windows in this room and each had a quote.

On the window nearest to him the etching read, "I dreamt my lady came and found me dead." Jesus! He thought. That was really morbid.

On the window next to Portia, it wasn't much better. "Come and be buried a second time within these arms." Did that mean they would be buried together? If this was from Shakespeare too, he was glad he never read any of his plays. He dropped some breadcrumbs on his lap as he bit into the toast. As he brushed the pieces away, he suddenly remembered his manners and thanked her for the change of clothing.

"You'll have to excuse me for forgetting." She looked up at him, puzzled. He indicated the clothes. "Thank you for this. I must be lucky you had some spare clothes around."

Portia nodded at him, but made no reply. Steve felt uneasy at her silence. She still looked at him and he found himself unnerved by the lifeless look in her eyes. He couldn't help but think, she had the most frightening eyes he ever saw. And her voice, though she spoke little, was also strange. When she spoke sometimes, he felt as though her voice was inside him. He found it hard to hear anything else then. Her soft, gentle tones, blocked out all other sounds and it was just that voice he would want to hear. He put his fork down, no longer feeling hungry now. He needed some air, to get away from her and clear his head.

He excused himself from the table and told her he had to get the phone re-charger from the car. First thing he needed to do was call Bo and tell him about his accident. Then he would call a tow truck to get the car out of the ditch. After that he could leave. He needed to get away from here. It wasn't just that he had to get the info about Brymera. Staying here was hurting him. He didn't understand what she meant about enduring the pain. Whatever pain he felt must have had something to do with the accident yesterday. Maybe he bruised his chest or arms when he hit the steering wheel. The pain must have been because of that, unseen injuries. After a good night's rest, he must have healed enough.

But what about the pain that caused him to lose control of the car? The pain came before the accident. That's why he crashed the car. He didn't like this at all. It was after he saw the house and had an image of being in that dark room that he started to hurt. It was the same pain and it grew stronger the second time.

After getting the re-charger and hooking up his phone he stayed outside for a while, looking up and down the road. He had not seen any other cars come down. It made the place appear all the more isolated. He walked over to the lake itself and took in the surround view. There were no other houses at all. This house was the only one here. It did look like a castle. A castle with a balcony on the top floor and a dungeon below. A dungeon? Why would he think that? The image came to him again, clearer this time. The dark paneled room, no windows. It's cold down there. It feels like the room is below ground. He could almost smell the rich soil.

He rubbed his hand across his face and through his hair. This was too weird. There was something here. Something drew him here to this place. During all the weeks he was in Salem, there was never any one place that felt familiar. But here, he felt a connection just by seeing the place. And it was strong, this feeling. Much stronger than anything he felt in Salem. Whatever was drawing him here was powerful. He didn't want to hope. He had been disappointed so many times already, but he couldn't dismiss that fact he was remembering something. The only problem was, it didn't seem to be something good.

"Hello? Hello? Bo?" "Damn it!" He loses the connection. Why can't his calls go through? The signals are so weak here. He tries again as he hears the ringing sound. Finally he hears a voice on the other end. "Bo? Hello? It's Steve, can you hear me? Hello?"

"Leave your name... back�to..." Getting the voicemail, he curses in frustration. Even then the reception is bad. "Look Bo, it's Steve. I didn't make it last night. I had a car accident. I'm okay, but I had to stay somewhere else. Look, I'm at this house by the lake just off Route 15. I just need to get my car out of the ditch, and then I'll be on my way. I'll call again when I get to the motel. I..." and the line went dead again. "Great! Just great?"

He tries to call again, but no luck. Whatever is causing the disruption in the signal is strong there. "How the hell can I call for a tow truck now!" Steve slams the cover shut and shoves the phone into his pocket. He looks warily back at the house. "Alice in Wonderland my foot! This is the freaking Twilight Zone!"

Her humming could be heard as soon as he entered the foyer. He didn't recognize the melody, but the song caught his attention. He followed the sound and found her back in the library. She was looking at the bookcase again. Actually it was the same one he found her at last night. He approached from behind slowly, for she was staring intently on the row of books and he didn't want to startle her. He cast a shadow upon the shelves before becoming up on her left side. He saw her look slightly to her left, acknowledging his arrival, but then turned back to the books. Steve looked at the books too. They were all leather bound and looked old. He frowned slightly, wondering what their appeal could be. He read off one of the titles and saw they were by Shakespeare. So she was a fan. It made sense considering all the quotes placed on the windows. He looked over at the window in this room and there too was another quote.

"Virtue itself turns vice being misapplied, and Vice, sometimes by actions dignified." Good turns into bad, and bad can become good? He supposed it was too simplistic an interpretation, but at least he understood this one.

"Were you able to call your friend?� she asked him. She had stopped humming.

"Well, yeah, sort of. I think I got through, but the reception here is pretty bad. I just left a message on his voice mail." "I still have to call about a tow truck, ...don't know if I'll be able to get one out here. I might have to walk away from the lake and see if I can get a better signal."

She glanced at him for a few seconds before turning away. She started humming again, a different melody this time and much softer. Her hand went up to touch a few of the books. For the next minute she ran her fingers over the lettering before pulling away. She still had not made a choice. At this point she didn't seem to be listening to him. Steve was looking at her and couldn't help wondering why she acted so weird.

"Ah, look... I just wanted to say thanks for... for helping me, you know with this bump and cut. And�I was lucky you were around...I mean, there's no other place I could have gone to around here, you know?" Portia continues humming and doesn't acknowledge she has heard anything. Steve doesn't know if he should continue speaking. Her back is to him now as she goes over to another bookcase near the corner. He walks over to a table near the center of the room, glances down at the flower filled vase and miniature box there. Absentmindedly, he touches the box while looking at the multi colored roses in the vase. He turns around to see Portia standing very still with her back towards him. He tries again to talk with her.

"Look, Um...I've got to leave, I have to be somewhere...and I...I'm grateful for you letting me stay the night! And giving me these clothes and food! " "You seem really nice...and... um...I need to call for that tow truck so I can get out of here. " "So I just wanted to say thanks again. I really appreciate what you did. Um�oh yeah, about the lock, if it's broken, let me know. I'll pay for it. Um... you can get in touch with me ...at the Brady Pub by the waterfront."

Whether is was the melody she was now humming or the fragrance of the roses he smelled, or both, he suddenly felt a little lightheaded just then and lost his train of thought. Focusing on the flowers, they grew blurry and he started to feel tired. The image of him in the dark room appeared again. He was sitting in a chair. His hands were tied up. Trying to open his eye he thought he could see a table and small bed next to him. He felt confused and ill. His head hurt and he found it hard to swallow. There was pain in his legs and feet. He didn't think he could stand. And there was something else. Someone was there this time, a figure. He tried to focus on him, but he couldn't see who it was. That person started coming towards him. Steve looked up at him. "Who are you?"

Steve grabbed the sides of the table as the image abruptly ended. His hands were unsteady as they grasp the tabletop. There was no pain this time but he didn't need the pain to tell him this was different. His heart was pounding and sweat came down his neck. He placed a hand over his heart, then to his face. His breathing was harsh and labored. Something was triggering his memory to remember. These images were real, he felt it. He knew it! Whatever it was that was making him remember was here, in this house. A hand touched his arm and he jumped back in shock. The flower vase was knocked over, spilling water on the tabletop and the roses were scattered on the floor. He looked into her eyes and saw beyond the gray, clear depts.

He saw only her. He looked only at her. He could hear her voice and nothing else. As the darkness came and covered his heart bringing the pain, he finally knew she was the one with him in the dark room. The pain grew swiftly and his legs gave way as he fell to the floor. The pain became tremendous and he yelled out for help. It shattered within him, a thousand daggers, striking everywhere, until he thought he might just die. God, someone help me! His mind screamed. He couldn't bear it. It was too much. He just wanted to die, anything to stop the pain. His body twisted and ravaged in pain, lay contorted on the floor. His face was in a death scream, crying in soundless torment. Please help me! Oh God! Help me! As the darkness covered him completely, he felt nothing.

When he woke, he felt the wetness on his cheeks. He pushed himself up slowly, keeping his face down towards the floor. He took deep breaths and wiped away at his tears with his hand. He was expecting the pain again. Any movement could bring it back but it was gone. He pushed himself up from the floor and tried to stand. He felt shaky as he leaned against the table for support. There was no more pain. He rubbed his leg in disbelief thinking it would return, but there was nothing. Enough was enough. He couldn't take this anymore. She had the answers, he knew she did. If it killed him to find out the truth then he'll die. He didn't care anymore. At least he would die knowing the truth.

"I didn't have to call you back." She was just a few feet away from him. She held the fallen roses in her hands and placed them on the table. The water had dripped to the floor and made a small puddle. When he looked at her face, she seemed almost happy.

"What?" He was staring hard at her. "Called me back?" He shook his head. "What do you mean, called me back?"

"When you fell, I told myself, I forced myself not to help you. I was hoping... you would break through." She looked at him in relief. "I wasn't sure if you were strong enough yet. I wasn't really sure. I was praying you were."

"You're not making any sense lady!" He was angry now. "Do I look like I'm alright to you? I've just felt, hell, I don't even know what to call it. I thought I was going to die. I've never felt anything like... It was worse that what I felt last night." "Man, what's happening to me." He looked over at her, anger within him as she returned his gaze calmly. She was happy he endured this pain?

"I always had to help before. No one ever got through it on their own. The only one who got close..." A frown crossed her face, and she looked away for a second. "I thought he was okay too... I thought he was strong..." Her head is down. She doesn't look at him. He thought she maybe crying, but when she raises her face, there are no tears in her eyes. "The Walls.� she tells him. "You've broken through the walls."

He could feel it himself. Strangely enough, he knew what she meant. Those walls where the ones he felt each time he tried to remember his past. They were all around him. Every time he thought of his past, he would come up against them. But then the pains came, especially during the time when he remembered that room. It was like he mentally threw himself against these walls each time he had that image. He kept throwing himself, trying to break through and the pain would be the result of his efforts. But he couldn't stop. Each time he remembered more, he had to run head on into those walls. It hurt like hell, but he had to get through. He had to keep trying. At first the pain was so much, he didn't think he could make it. When he thought he would fail, he would hear her voice and it brought him back. It would heal him.

Steve looked at Portia and understood. The walls were what held his memories. They surrounded all the memories that were stolen from him. All this time he thought the walls were keeping him prisoner. But they weren't. They were put up to keep him out. Each time he tried to remember Kayla or his life here in Salem, he came up against the walls. They were impenetrable before. But these last two days, he had forced himself to go through it. No matter how much pain came, he kept pushing through. The pain was overwhelming, like someone falling to concrete floors. He had mentally used his body to free his mind. Now he understood. He knew why there was pain.

He searched his memory but still comes up with blanks. His face showed his confusion. If I broke through why can't I remember? "I still don't remember anything! ", he tells her. He reaches into his memory again and this time recalls an image of him and Kayla at the waterfront pier. She is helping him up. He remembers bruises all over his body and his face is bloody. He tries to remember more but nothing comes to him. He looks to Portia. She said she helped him before. Can she help him tear down the rest of these walls?

"You said you've helped me." She says nothing, but looks carefully at him. "I'm asking you now, will you help me some more." "I'm still not remembering much. I don't know how more I have to do to get rid of these...walls? But I'm asking you, will you help me?"

She turns her head away and places the fingers of her right hand on her mouth. Her eyes darted left to right. She does not answer him but stands motionless. Steve takes a small step towards her and waits. He watches her every move, but she keeps so still. Her head finally turns back towards him. She does not look at him, but gazes instead at the windowpane behind him. Whether she is reading the quote on the glass or not he doesn't know. He doesn't care. He wants her help. He doesn't think he can make it alone. He survived this bout, but the next time?

"You broke through a section, but the rest is still standing.� she tells him " There will be much more pain, terrible agony to endure before it all comes down. These walls are strong. They have held strong for sixteen years. They will not come down easily." She looked straight at him now. Her eyes were locked on him and he could feel a power behind them. And he sensed it. There was something she wasn't telling him. Something she was hiding from him. The memory of her in the dark room entered his mind and he questioned her presence there.

Suddenly he walked up to her and took hold of her arms. "You were there.� he said. "...in that room with me. I remember you." "I... I don't know how you were there." He searches her face for confirmation. It's there, her eyes soften and look sadly back at him. "Were you helping me then?"

Portia looked at him and shook her head.

"You weren't helping me?� confused he asked her again. "But you were there, with me? Why?" He felt a chill around his heart then. A dread of knowing what he feared about her all along. He was scared of her, he had always been scared of her.

"Steve.... I put up the walls."

Looking at Portia, you would think, she's like my Aunt Mary or she reminds me of my second grade teacher. She was a small little thing, standing at five feet two perhaps. There was a natural gracefulness about her that reminded you of fragrant roses and afternoon teas. She looked like a lady, she spoke in gentle tones and she was the last person you would think of who could destroy a life. Steve didn't want to believe, it was too impossible. She was a nice woman who lived in luxury out here in her castle by the lake. She had helped him without question or hesitation. But her eyes told him differently. Those haunting, clear gray eyes, that had looked at him without emotion, now regarded him with a strength that spoke of fear. Her voice was no longer soft but hard. She had done this to him. She had taken his life away. This gentle looking soul had nearly destroyed him.

"Why?" The single word finally forced out of him. The only thing his mind could ask at such a moment. What else could he possibly say? "Why did you do this?"

She shook her head slightly as if to deny. She had cast her eyes downwards, in shame? The silence grew as he waited for her answer. She was sorry? She deeply regretted her actions? Whatever she says, he would not forgive her. Whatever she tells him, he will hate her forever. She looked up at him once more. There were no tears there.

"I made the choice. Whether you were to live or die, I chose life for you."

"You chose for me?", he told her bitterly. His hands tightened against her arms and he knew he was hurting her. "You chose for me to live this...life! Instead of being dead, I live in this hell! This was your choice! Your choice?"

"You did not die. Do you understand? I didn't let you die."

"No, I didn't die, but I wish to God I did. My life all these years... I've had nothing. I've been no one." He let go of her and walked a few steps away. "Better to be alive than dead. Better to die than live this life.� he spoke aloud. He suddenly turned around and confronted her again. "Why? You still haven't told me why?"

She smiled then. A twisted, strange smile that made her reply all the more cursed. "It was the only way to save your life. It was the only was to save the lives of your family and your friends. When I took your memories, you were all spared. Out of love for me, a pact was made. So long as you didn't know who you were, you would live. No one would die."

"You made a pact? With who? Who is he?� he shouted at her. "Who the hell is the person who wanted to kill me? Tell me, damn you! Answer me, or so God help me, I'll kill you!"

She regarded him without fear. "Kill me if you wish, I will say nothing."

Her grabbed her again and shook her hard. "Give me his name! WHO IS HE!�

Not a sound, not a word escaped her lips. In disgust he pushed her away from him and she fell towards the chair. He ran his fingers threw his hair and slammed his fist on the table. She took his life from him. She took everything he had! To save him? To save his family? Kayla he thought! If he remembered, she could be killed! And Stephanie?

Something was wrong here. To save his life she erased his memories. He must have known something he shouldn't. He discovered something? But now he was remembering. He was breaking through the walls that kept his memories locked up. She knew this. When he entered this house and found her, she knew he was remembering. She knew he would remember and she had helped him. She helped him when the pain first came. She took the memories away and now she was helping him to get them back. Why was she doing this? If he remembered then he was in danger again. They were all in danger.

"You're helping me remember!" "I don't understand? You said I would die if I knew. But you're helping me to remember?"

"It's different now."

"Why? What has changed?"

"You found your way back home. Steve.... you became a threat again when you returned home."

"But how... I didn't even know I would come back here."

"We always watched you. In Cincinnati, at the hospital, we always knew where you were."

"Yeah, I came back here, but I didn't remember ....anything ....useful. All these weeks and I'm still in the dark about my past. How can I be a threat to anyone?" Portia came up to him and gently touched his hand. He barely felt her near him. His head was reeling from all this. What was he going to do? How could he fight this, this unknown enemy!

"Steve, I made a promise long ago to help you. If you ever came back here, I would find you and help you."

"He� he knew that.� he asked her. "The person you made a pact with to save me, he knew you would one day betray him.

"Yes."

He swallowed hard as he looked at her. "You will help me remember who I am. You'll help me?"

"Yes."

He regarded her carefully. She had been, in a way, his enemy, but she saved him too. It was all being given to him now. He would finally have his life back. He started to shake and felt his heart beat fiercely in his chest. He waited sixteen years to know who he really was. He wasn't going to wait anymore. He took her hand and held it up to his heart. "Please help me remember." His was shaking so hard the words he felt he would shatter. "Please Portia, please give me back my life!"

With her hand in his she leads him towards the bookcase. It was the bookcase he found at her when he entered the room not half an hour ago.

"Be strong." She told him. He nodded and gave her his trust. She reached up and pulled a book from the shelf. A noise was heard and the bookcase shook slightly before it moved to reveal a hidden passage. She showed him the book in her hand. Pericles, Prince of Tyre. Shakespeare's tale of a prince who was separated by death from his wife and daughter. The prince who after many long years finally found his family again. Steve looked at the darkness and saw his life beneath its grasp. He took a step to reclaim it and disappeared into the shadows.

Return to A Patch of Sweetness.