3WW: field, hide, second

This is a continuation of last weeks 3WW. I already wrote the next two. Me can be very sick.

He looked concerned.
I’m not Denny. I’m Del, Denny’s brother. Denny was killed three years ago. I moved in after you got out of rehab.
You’re lying. Why are you lying Denny?
We’re twins. You know that.

She stopped herself from falling. She was sure that like herself Denny was an only child. She didn’t know why she was so sure. Now that she thought about it she remembered nothing other than she had once been married to a man named Denny, that had to be short for Dennis, who looked just like this man. They lived? Good question. Somewhere in New York. Downtown seemed right. Or maybe they had moved. Her memories were fuzzy. So fuzzy they felt like a silent film speeded up faster than the eyes could watch.

The apartment had felt like home when she was opening the door. She was sure of that. Now it looked strange. She was almost sure that she would never own a brown couch or burgundy chairs. She couldn’t imagine herself living in an apartment with light brown walls. The apartment didn’t look like a woman lived in it. She knew the couch had just been turquoise and the chairs seafoam green to contrast with the seafoam blue living room walls. She knew that. Just didn’t know her own name.

Denny or Del or whoever he was tried to help her but she ran from him. She wanted to hide. But she didn’t even know where the bedroom was. The apartment seemed to have endless rooms. He gave her a glass of water. She knocked it over. For all she knew he was trying to poison her.

The door to the apartment had been left unlocked. A woman came in. The woman was overly cheery.
Sorry. I had to go to the store.

Denny/Del said:
You know that you’re never supposed to leave her alone
I was just gone for fifteen minutes. Picking up the new prescription. Never know when you’re going to be here Del. Makes it hard for me.
The pharmacy could have delivered it. Francesca is coming to relieve you in twenty minutes.
No, Francesca won’t be here. Says it’s too hard. Until Miss Ella comes to terms with the incident, you’re not going to have too many people wanting to work here.
Damn she was the second this month.

Miss Ella? Her name wasn’t Ella. It couldn’t be something so old fashioned yet trendy. She didn’t know how she knew that. She didn’t seem to know anything. She realized that the woman was speaking to her as though she was a small child.

I’m Nadia. You’re Ella and I take care of you
I’m not Ella. Ella’s a strange name.
Ella’s your middle name. You never used your first name, Janis. You wanted to be different.
No you’re wrong. I would remember. Who are you people?
Lord, you really need your medication. Del?

Del grabbed her from behind. She couldn’t get away. Nadia stuck a needle in her arm.

Her name was Ella. Her husband had been killed three years ago. She refused to acknowledge that and so was in pain. Only she didn’t feel like an Ella or a Janis.

She stared at the bedroom rug. It looked like a field of blue and yellow flowers. If she thought hard enough she could be playing in the flowers.
She ran through the field. The flowers were so pretty. They smelled so good. She was going to pick some and give them to a woman who was smiling at her.

She fell asleep. When she woke she was on the turquoise couch in the living room. The doorbell rang
She opened the door and smiled.
Hi, Denny.
Hello yourself. He kissed her hard. When they stopped kissing and she caught her breath she said:
Answer something truly stupid. What’s my name?
Corneila. You’re called Nell. We were attacked three years ago. Sometimes your memory plays tricks on you.
Make love to me Denny. Here in the foyer floor. So you can feel real.
It was as real as it could get.

She didn’t remember getting to bed but found herself waking up to the morning sun. Buy why was that woman who called herself Nadia opening the windows?