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It's been a long while since I wrote a short piece. Here's one! I guess you
could say that I'm bored since I don't intend to do anything that has the
word 'work' in it. Guess that's why housework and homework are at the bottom
of my list....

Disclaimer: I own no one!!!! I don't make money out of them!!!!! Although I
do own.... own.... the ermm..... nevermind..... The characters used are own
by their respective owners who are mean enough to stop TRAJQ.
Archivers: Go ahead but inform me first.
Summary: A girl with amnesia wonders about her past and her role in the
death of the Quest team.
Category: Angst

WHO AM I??

The gentle breeze caressed her face, licking it, tossing her hair in playful
movements, giving it a life of its own. However, she was far from being
playful. She felt her heart no longer pumping to give her the life she knew.
Her eyes staring intently out, hardly blinking, her lips in a thin,
straight, firm line, her arms wrapped around herself to keep herself warm.
No, it was not cold, but what she feared that brought about this chill. Many
times, in her dreams, she had seen this vision. A vision in which pain
overwhelmed her. She felt inside her, the pain and horror of losing
everyone, watching as they moan in agony out to her. Several nights, she has
been having the same repetitive dream. Familiar faces, blurred and vague to
her, all struggling on the floor, she wanted to help them, but was rendered
helpless. Their faces contorted in agony, screaming at her, as if she was
the cause of it all. No, that is not possible! She lived by herself in a
small apartment. She had not many friends. Most of the time she kept to
herself..... since the accident. She couldn't remember anyone, her name, her
background. She was like a ghost, passing the days. Each minute was an
unspoken agony. 

"You were found in the alley near the plant explosion. I'm sorry, but
there's just no possible way for us to identify you unless someone comes
foreword or you recollect your memories." The doctor's words echoed in her
head. Identify. It made her seem like some sort of lost article. She felt
like a lost article - not knowing her belonging.

She was by the sidewalk, umbrella in hand. The sky was gray, darker than any
other gray she had seen. She was walking somewhere. Filled with
determination to do something. A flash of light dazed her for a minute. As
her vision cleared, she saw the same image that had been haunting her.
Mouths gasping, arms outstretched, faces twisted in agony. Unlike the
previous times, the intensity overwhelmed her. A sharp pain tore at her
heart and soon it was too painful to bear. She let out an banshee-like scream. 

Her eyes flew open, her breaths came in short spasms. It was the same dream,
but definitely not the same feeling. She buried her head in her hands in
utter hopelessness. She sat in bed, her thoughts in confusion. The faces....
the people..... she knew them..... knew them..... very close to her but she
couldn't put things together. "Damn this amnesia!" She muttered under her
breath. "If only I knew who I was, maybe everything will make more sense."

 After her breakfast, she felt much better. She swung her bag round her
shoulders and briskly walked out onto the pavement. She felt good. Her green
eyes shone like the sun, her choice of colors complemented her fiery red
hair which glistened under the hot Nebraska afternoon sun. She briskly
walked to the nearby restaurant that she worked full-time. She needed the
money that badly, for the hospital's bill. Fortunately for her, some
generous donators in her neighborhood helped her out at times. In fact, it
was due to kindness that she'd managed to survive this far on her own. The
fact that she earned five dollars an hour and eight hours a day didn't help
much. 

She idically flipped through some old magazines that had accumulated itself
in the restaurant. There were hardly any customers. In fact, there were only
three customers. Not many people would want to eat at a restaurant which was
close to being condemned. Her eyes ran through the various headlines. 

JAPANESE ANIME ON THE RISE?
INSANE PEOPLE CLAIM SANITY
'HOPELESS ROMANTIC' PLANS TO TAKE OVER THE WORLD
THE QUEST - CHEMICAL PLANT EXPLOSION
VIOLENT TELEVISIONS - OUR KIDS' FUTURE

Chemical plant explosion? She quickly flipped to the page. She quickly read
through the article. Benton Quest..... Hadji Singh..... Jonny Quest.... Race
Bannon..... Jessica Bannon..... Bannon..... that sounded extremely familiar.
She searched the magazine for any photo of this 'Jessica Bannon' but, none
was available. Fragments of the article sticked to her mind. Caused by
hacking of systems...... malfunctioning of mechanisms...... unexpected....
unprepared........ death of hundreds by exposure to chemicals. Her hand
quivered as she tried to grasp onto the now-shaking magazine. She somehow
knew she'd played a part in the whole thing. What sort of part? She wondered
in fear.

That night, the same dream haunted her again. This time, it was a lot
clearer and everything that had happened restructured itself in front of
her. She was trying to hack into the plant's computer system to extract some
information. Unfortunately, the plant was conducting tests at the same time.
The clash between the two somehow had caused the information to cross. As
fast as she could, she ran into the plant, hoping that she'd be able to warn
them before the plant went off. It was too late. When she managed to bypass
the computer security, get into an enclosed suite, the chemicals had already
been released and had worked itself into the flesh of the presented people.
They reached out for her. Their skin melting in front of her. Slowly and
painfully, they were dying..... because of her. It was all her fault! 

"Jessie," A male voice called out. "Jessie...." She turned to see a blond
guy, about her age, reaching as far as he could before tumbling face-front
into the floor in front of her. Her gaze went round in horror. She
recognized the face of Dr. Benton Quest as he fought a futile battle against
death. Race Bannon, the ever loyal safe-keeper of the Quest family. Hadji
Singh, the brilliant computer assistant. The face of the blond
struggler..... she knew him..... it was..... Jon..... Jon-something
Quest..... She took a long gaze at the abhorrence unfolding itself before
letting out a scream in octaves that she never knew before and in plain fear
that she had never felt before. She sat up in bed. Panting. Sweat cascading
down from her head. Her breath came in rapid spasms. She cried. She cried
for the deaths she had unknowingly caused. She cried for her callousness.
And most of all, she cried at the guilt that she had to bear. Ever gnawing
her for her actions. Gnawing at her throughout her lifetime and more. She
felt herself suddenly placed at the hands of guilt and it was manipulating
her like a toy. A pawn in a game of chess. She sobbed. A disturbing question
came to her. "Who am I?"

End.

So, any one of you wants to kill me for this piece of work? Send any
comments, bouncing rabbits with jelly beans (nice tasting ones hopefully),
free internet accounts (hopeful still)!!!! Don't worry, I will not stab you.
*hides kantana behind back, fake angel ring over head*

Btw, just out of curiousity, has anyone been able to contact The Lonely One
for the past few days? I've been trying to, but I don't get any respond.
Ina? Anyone?

Seeya!!!
Canvas
~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~
Here Snowie (my dog). Can you say baaaa-aaa? Come on, say baaa-aaaa.......?
Come on! You look exactly like a lamb with that new cut!!!
*		*		*
Visit my insanity at: http://www.angelfire.com/ca/vivir/index.html
~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~


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