Leaving Laurabelle Falls

Chapter 13

It wasn't just creating new memories, but warping old ones. That's what's difficult to describe.

As I laid in my hospital bed, half-awake and half-asleep, everything got woven together. Laurabelle Falls was Laurabelle Falls, and the Matrix was the matrix.

I can remember being 10 years old, my mother standing at my bedside in the hospital room, absolutely fuming while the stitches were put in my ears.

"You are grounded for life," She hissed at Noah, huffing her every word like a kettle that had boiled over, "Dylan is on thin ice too. If I had thought for a second that I would be responding to a call like this, I would have never let you have him over."

"Mom, it wasn't his idea," Noah pleaded. "I'm the one that convinced him to go. He just told the girls, and they-"

"I don't want to hear for a second about what the girls said." She responded. "You are supposed to be watching over them while I'm gone. I had to leave work because of this stupidity, and your sister? She's going to have that ugly scar for the rest of her life."

"I'm sorry." Noah said, sagging his shoulders. I could see him around the doctor. His eyes fell to the ground, and a tear rolled off of his chin.

"Sorry will never be enough." My mother responded. "You can only hope that your sister forgives you for this, after everything is over."

There were a few moments of silence. Mother had slayed the dragon of Noah's resistance, and he was left defeated. But her town was already burned, and that wasn't quite enough for her.

"You're practically an adult. You're the only older, responsible male figure that she has in her life. And you're going to put her in danger like that? What am I supposed to do, hire a babysitter for a thirteen year old?"

"No," Noah said, his voice cracking. "I'm not going to let it happen again."

"You'd better not." My mom said.

I hated it when she got like this. Apologies were never enough, crying was never enough. She would berate us until she got it all out of her system.

"Alright, it looks like we're all good." The surgeon said. He tied up the last stitch, and began packing up his tools. It was clear from how efficiently he moved that he was eager to get out of here. "She seems fine, but she does have a concussion. I'd recommend keeping her here overnight, just to be safe. It's not worth taking the risk that we missed something."

"Thank you," My mother said, simply.

He exited the room, and the silence lingered as my mother sat her head in her own hands. She sighed, her shoulders sagging. Eventually, she rose. She reached into her purse slowly, pulling out a five-dollar bill. She held it out towards Noah, not looking him in the eyes.

"Go get me a diet coke or something, please." She requested.

"Yes ma'am." He reaffirmed, taking the bill and slinking out of the room. I could tell he was going to be gone a little longer than the walk to the vending machine.

And this is when the memory starts to get fuzzy. It starts to get blurry around the edges, and too sharp in the center.

The edges are purple.

My mother turned towards me, and her sadness had become an eerie smile. She slunk towards my bed, her eyes aglow with a sinister light. I felt my stomach churn as I saw someone I was supposed to trust very quickly turn into something on the prowl.

"Are you going to hate him, now?" She asked, drawing ever closer to my bedside.

"Why would I hate him?" I questioned.

"He took you to the junkyard, didn't he?" She questioned. She cocked her head to the side, a little too far. Her eyes were alight with glee. "He cut through the fence, through the force-field. And now, you're down your ears."

"...Ears?" I asked, "Only the left one got cut."

"That may be all you remember now," She sneered, "But we'll see how that goes in the future. Things come up all the time, you know."

"You're scaring me." I said, gripping the sheets.

"And he scarred you." She sneered. "Your ears were already ugly enough, weren't they?"

I flashed back to my mom complaining about not being able to put my hair up, complaining about having to curl it in tight curls to keep them from showing through my hair. All the times that she, without ever fully saying it, had told me that they were ugly.

"You're marred now." She said. "You can't do anything about it. It was already bad enough, and now, it's worse. Doesn't that make you angry?"

"...Why are you saying this?" I asked, my voice wavering.

"Because you won't remember." She said. Her eerie smile turned into an even worse grin, showing off her teeth, too white, too gleaming. Unnaturally so. "I can say whatever I want to right now, because you're not supposed to know."

"To know what?"

"That Deacon couldn't save you." She spat. "That Bethany couldn't save you." She reached out, and grabbed a lock of my hair. She spun it slowly between her fingers, and looked up towards my eyes. "They never have, and they never will. You're going to be trapped in this world forever."

"Forever?" I asked, a flash of something hitting me. A flash of a woman with bright blonde hair, and a man with a short stubble of a beard. "I don't-- I don't-"

"You didn't even get to have a father." She said, shaking her head. "You know what that can do to a girl, don't you? Your soulmate will never love you. You won't be able to trust him without getting your memories back. And trust me. You're never getting them back."

I was breathing heavily, tears streaming down my face. I didn't know what was going on, but I knew better than to question her. It would only result in more confusion, more fear.

Her voice was slowly distorting, becoming less speech and more growl with every syllable she uttered.

"And that's part of the plan." She announced. "That you aren't able to finish. You're going to lose, and I am going to ravage the world that you love, for all of time. You will see this as the fault of all the people that were supposed to love you."

Her voice distorted, then. Became something dark and heavy, along with her normal tone. She was speaking to me from herself, and from the Abyss.

"You're toast." She snarled.

The door opened, and Noah walked back in with a drink in his hand. She straightened up, and took a few steps back. Her face immediately returned to normal, her lines becoming round instead of sharp again. There were still tears running down my face.

"Is everything okay?" He asked. He handed her a latte; one of the ones from those hospital vending machines that were equivalent to what you might get at a gas station. She accepted it graciously, walking over towards the window. She had a seat on the pane, looking down at her drink and then, looking back up towards him.

"You're very lucky," She informed him, her voice solemn. It had returned to its normal pitch. "Your sister forgives you."

I could feel something unraveling in my brain. Like someone had grabbed a thread on the memory that had just been knitted, and undid it. My vision went blurry for a moment, and I felt a sense of surprise when I felt the tears on my face. I wondered why I had been crying.

"I do forgive you." I reassured him, wiping the tears from my eyes.

And I know that at one point, I had a different memory there. I think my mom asked me what his punishment should be, and I told her I didn't think he should have one. It had been me, after all, that had chosen to climb the slope.

But the fake version of events is all I can remember now.

The sick, twisted distortion of the Deerman.