Emily The Strange_ The Lost Days Part 1

Emily the Strange_ The Lost Days.

by Rob Reger.

OK.

I think I better take some notes, cuz something super strange is happening to me, and I don't know 1. my name 2. anyone else's name 3. where I am 4. how I got here 5. where I live 6. how old I am (am I a kid or just short?) 7. anything I've done since I was born 8. whether I'm a cat person or a dog person 9. whether I actually believe people are either cat people or dog people 10. what might have been written on the eleven pages that were torn out of this notebook 11. why this happened to me 12. how long it's going to last, or 13. what I should do next.

Here's what I DO know: 1. I'm human.

2. I'm a girl.

3. I'm wearing a black dress.

4. I'm wearing black stockings.

5. I have long black hair.

6. I seem to like the color black.

7. I recently stepped in gum.

8. My skin is pale, so the bruises on my left arm show up really well.

9. I have a notebook, a pencil, and a slingshot, and that's it.

10. I'm left-handed.

11. I speak English.

12. The Earth is round and travels around the sun.

13. I seem to like the number 13.

[image]

What I can see of Myself.

Later I'm in a town called Blackrock, according to the newspaper. I'm not sure whether a town this small even needs a newspaper. Too bad I can't remember any other towns to compare it to. Here's what I've seen: two streets, maybe fifteen buildings, and then dust plains all around. Almost everything-natural and human-made-is some shade of beige. There's a bus depot. A couple of stores. One tiny patch of gra.s.s that's pa.s.sing for a park.

It seems quiet and peaceful here, but for some reason I prefer to a.s.sume it's crawling with menace and secret abominations.

Not sure if that says more about Blackrock or about ME.

Anyway. New things I know: 1. Nothing here looks familiar.

2. n.o.body in Blackrock seems to know me.

3. Many people in Blackrock think I'm worth staring at.

4. Strange dogs don't always like to be petted.

5. I'm not a dog person.

6. There is never an Amnesia Recovery Center around when you need it.

7. Someone might be worried about me, but that someone is nowhere to be found.

8. I will probably be sleeping on the streets tonight.

9. I'm hungry.

10. Food costs money.

11. I don't have any money.

12. Amnesia sucks rocks: big...black...rocks.

13. You can get a ticket in Blackrock for using a slingshot to entertain pa.s.sersby.

[image]

At least I know what I look like now.

Later Got fed. Here's how it went down: When the police told me to get out of their sight, I ducked into this cafe called the El Dungeon. Even though it was el dubious. El dungheap. Asked the chick behind the counter if she happened to have any free food. She said I could sweep the floor. Honk! I needed a shovel! Well, at least in the corners, where people had kicked most of the larger garbage.

Even taking my total amnesia into account, I think it's a pretty safe bet to say this is the ugliest building I've ever seen. Inside: Peeling paint on some walls, embarra.s.sing wood paneling on others; splintery old furniture; and these dinged-up windows that rattle whenever a car goes past. There's a rickety staircase that apparently goes upstairs to Filthy Cobweb Land. And the music doesn't exactly brighten up the ambience-some kind of haunted whispering from the radio that sounds like a ghost town from 100 years ago, harmonizing with the espresso machine giving its death rattle.

So it's not the cheeriest place, or even the cleanest. But actually...it suits me just fine. Interesting.

Outside: The El Dungeon's worst feature is its unfortunate, and very thick, all-over coat of beige paint. Second-worst feature would have to be the large...SHAPES...on the roof. No telling what they are. Oversized beige sculptures of chewed gum or something. Other than that, hard to say WHAT the building looks like, since the paint is so thick it's hiding what might have been architectural details.

I was carrying something like the twenty-third dustpan of kipple to the Dumpster out back when I decided for sure that unless, or until, I could reverse my amnesia with a strategic head b.u.mp, I was going to set up camp in the alley behind the El Dungeon. El Dreamland! Multiple fascinating well-stocked Dumpsters! Enough building materials for a lovely lean-to! Animal friends! I made buddy-buddy with the local cats using savory treats found in garbage. Am hoping they repay the favor tonight, especially if it's nippy. Nothing like a seventeen-cat fur coat when it's nippy.

Am now sitting at a table in the cafe, eating a sandwich and checking out the customers. All seven of them. They look normal enough, aside from not moving the whole time I've been here. Anyway, at least I'm not getting stared at quite as much as I was outside. Hope I can tolerate hanging out here for a while.

Later Talked with CounterChick, whose name is Raven.

COUNTERCHICK:.

Hey, kid.

ME:.

[Oh. She means me. Guess I AM a kid, and not just short.]...Yeah?

CC:.

Uhhhhhhhhh. 'Nother sandwich?

ME:.

Yeah, thanks. [Long period of silent eating.]

CC:.

Yeah so.

ME:.

Yeah.

CC:.

Name's Raven. What's yours?

ME:.

Earwig. [Don't even know why I said that. Could be all the earwigs I had to sweep up off that floor earlier. Or possibly the way Raven's ears stuck out funny from under her wig. Pretty sure it's not my actual name.]

R:.

Uhhhhhhhhhh huh.

ME:.

Yeah.

It went on for a while like this. After a few minutes of not-too-scintillating chitchat, I could see she was mustering up to some kind of pointed question, which ended up going just a little bit like this:

R:.

Yeah, so, Earwig.

ME:.