My name is Jones. At least that's what the dog-tag around my neck says. I'm not so sure on my first name.
I woke up a couple weeks ago alone in a white room with nothing but the greeting beep of the heart monitor beside me thumping a frantic rhythm. I'm not sure how I got there but I didn't really stick around to find out. I grabbed my clothes and ran.
Since then I've travelled over a thousand miles in only a handful of days, moving country to country, following the small nagging voice at the back of my head that was slowly guiding me home. Though if I'm being honest it felt more like I was running in circles. I'd woken up in Lods, Poland, and since then I've driven a stolen car to Austria, hitched a plane to america and spent a couple days on a boat to spain. Not knowing why i had to go to all these places, just following the weird sense of deja vu leading me there. And now I was here, Molos in Greece, in an apartment I'd broken into to escape the rain, on a bed that didn't belong to me with fingers clenching the sheets while my body trembled with the shock of the bad dreams I was trying to recover from.
I sat up on the bed and wiped a hand down my face, wiping the sweat away, keeping my eyes shut while I tried to make sense of the nightmare. I'd been running, sprinting as fast as I could over a cold frozen ground through a dense forest while echoed explosions went off around me followed by the sound of open gunfire and quads. I'd had no idea where I was running to, just away. As far away as possible so I could get this small parcel in my left side pocket out of there. I knew it was more than a nightmare. It was a memory. See that was my problem. I couldn't remember anything from my past. But that didn't stop snippets of memories from haunting me at night. It terrified me not knowing who i was. Amnesia truly is a bitch. At least I hoped it was amnesia.
See I'm travelling somewhere, where? I'm not certain. But with every step I take closer to that unknown destination a new memory unfurls. Like yesterday, I'd landed in Rome, a strong sense of familiarity hitting me the second my feet hit the ground. I'd had a few hours until my next flight so I explored. Like any newcomer might. But I doubted your average traveller knows how to break into the collisium, or how to knock out the guard who tried to arrest them, or then escape while a mirage of memories pounded their minds. No I definitely wasn't any old traveller. What I was was a complete mystery. Maybe I was a soldier of some sort? It'd explain the pretty buff figure. Though judging by the clothes I'd found on the table beside my hospital bed I doubted it. What soldier walked around in a leather jacket and black leggings complete with heeled boots? Maybe I was just one of those people who took up fighting as a hobby, but that didn't explain the dog tag.
I picked it up in my fingers and ran my thumb over the engraved name; Jones. Something about it felt powerful. Like the sound of it alone could bring someone weeping to their knees. But why should it feel like that? It was just a name. Names didn't have that affect on people. My eyes ran over the numbers running down the side of the slim metal, trying to make sense of them. Date of birth was easily figured out, I was 19. These other numbers confused me though. Were they my ID number within whatever the hell place I worked for? I'd tried searching for a meaning for them on the Internet but no luck. As far as Google was concerned they were just random numbers, seeming to be as normal and ordinary as the girl who wore them. I sighed and dropped the tag, fingers snagging on the ring that sat snugly on the chain beside it.
Another thing that confused me. Was it my ring? Why was I wearing it around my neck? I had a horrible feeling that I'd never know. I couldn't bring myself to throw it away. They were the only things, besides my clothes, that linked me with my past. And sure I had this overwhelming desire to fling the dog tag as far away from me as possible, the ring kept it around my neck. There was just something about it that made me feel happy, warm. Safe.
I glanced past the ring to the clock on the nightstand and sighed at the time. I'd been here too long.
"Come on jones, time to go" I pulled myself off the bed, wincing a little when my arm burned.
I guess I should explain that. See I was in LA a few days back, just checking out the city. I must've made it three streets past the Hollywood walk of fame when I heard someone shout my name. It didn't take me long to notice the men following me, even less time to recognise them as the same guys I'd passed in the street four times that morning. I was in a foreign country not knowing who the hell was after my attention. So what did I do? Ran. Now I'm not the kinda girl who sees a bit of trouble and cries about it. I'm no coward. But something about the way they appeared out of nowhere was off. And I was right to have been suspicious. It took four blocks and a car for them to track me down after I'd climbed the roofs, adrenaline sure does wonders for someone who didn't know they could free run. I'd just started climbing up an roof ladder when I heard the shot. A strong stinging sensation ran down my right arm while a crimson stain started to stick to my shirt. I managed to escape, though I have no idea how, and hopped onto the first plane outta there, knowing it was way too dangerous to be hanging around in one place.
So that's where I am now. On the run from people I don't even know, with a busted arm I stitched up myself and a collection of fake ids and passports; two other creative talents I didn't know I possessed.
I was carefully pulling my jacket on over my wounded arm, being extremely weary of how easily normal cotton breaks under strain, and bending down for my shoulder bag when I heard the front door click open.
"Brilliant" I slipped behind the door and bit down on my lip when the owner of the joint staggered in with his giggling girlfriend in toe, swinging the door right smack into my arm. It hurt like a bitch but I remained silent, crouching slightly when they kissed their way over to the bed, not noticing the crumpled sheets or missing pillows I'd thrown away in my nightmare induced state.
He pinned her to the mattress and bent down to her, giving me the perfect distraction to walk out on. I slowly inched around the door, holding my breath so they wouldn't hear me moving. Guess I should've just got up and left. They were completely oblivious to the fact that a stranger was in their home.
I was nearly in the front hall when i heard a shriek, and I looked over my shoulder at the man and woman staring at me
"Uh hey..I can totally explain.." The man slowly got off the bed and approached me, anger flooding into his expression.
I raised my hands to show I meant no harm and started to back up to the door, sliding a hand down to the handle,
"Actually you know what? I can't. Nice place by the way"
I winked back at the girl before scooting the hell outta there, angry shouts about calling the police following me out. I laughed a little to myself and hefted the bag over my shoulder, sprinting out onto the street and hopping on the moped I'd stolen hours ago.