A note to readers. Anything in italics like this is a memory. Part of the two years that Jason has blacked out. The memory sequences will always be in active first person style.
Thank you and Enjoy!
*****
I don't know where to begin. I guess it all began with me losing not one, but two full years of my life.
Let me introduce myself. My name is Jason Thomas Matthews. I am the youngest of three children, as my twin sister would often take great pleasure in reminding me. She was born a full five minutes before I was. My twin, Madison and I are both a year younger then our older sister Jennifer.
We all inherited moms dark raven hair. We all had moms piercing green eyes and tanned complexion, except my twin. Madison's eyes were deep clear blue and her skin was always pale. It gave a sharp contrast to the black hair.
Our mom, Allie, was a mechanic who took more after her father then her mother. She had the same dark raven black hair usually worn in a pixie cut. She was the type of woman who was more often covered with grease then make up.
Dad was her stark opposite. He spent more often then not in a suit. Spent long hours at the office, though none of us knew what he did. He wouldn't talk about it, something about state laws. We knew he was a doctor, but that was it.
My story begins, or well picks back up, a Monday morning in July. I sat bolt up in bed drenched in sweat and screaming at the top of my lungs. I couldn't remember my dream but I remembered the monster was chasing me. Threatening to eat me alive. Screaming curses at me about the things I had done.
I panted looking around the stark white room. There was little more then a single bed and dresser in the room. I was sitting there panting for no more then a few seconds when the lock on the door clicked and a bald man strolled into the room, a concerned look on his face.
The first clue something was wrong was when I pushed the wealth of hair from my face. I look at the black hair in my hand and gaped in shock. It was nearly to my chin now but when I had gone to sleep it was only long enough to barely put it into a small tail. Six to seven inches of growth.
"What in the fuck?" I groaned.
"Jason?" The bald man asked. "Are you okay?"
I looked up and my eyes widened. He was bald now but it was differently my father. He wasn't wearing the suit top and had on a white lab coat. He held a clip board in one right hand and his left stuffed into the pocket of the coat.
"Dad?" I whispered. "What's going on?"
"Do you know where you are?"
I looked around the stark white room and shook my head. My room was painted a dull brown with book shelves filled with books on every wall. Posters of various bands and pin up girls. This room was bare and honestly, a little scary.
Dad nodded understandingly and smiled.
"Do you know your name?" He asked.
"Jason." I replied licking my dry lips. "Jason Matthews."
"And who am I?" He asked.
"Ed." I replied again. "Edward Matthews. My dad."
"Good J." Dad said with a small smile. "What year is it?"
I ran a hand down my face and noticed the thin layer of scruff on my cheeks. I hated being scruffy and immediately itched to shave it. Ignoring that instinct I looked up at my dad and blinked. Thinking hard on the question.
"2013." I answered.
"I see." My dad answered and began to write on the clip board. "What's the last thing you remember J?"
"Birthday..." I croaked and licked my lips again. "Can I get something to drink dad?"
Dad nodded to someone outside the door and a large bald black man walked into the room. He wore a solid white uniform with a large ring of keys on his hip. When he brought me the water I took a deep drink and looked up at my dad. I knew where I was now. I was in a hospital. A psych hospital.
"Dad, what the hell's going on?" I asked my voice clear again from the water.
"Answer me please J." Dad insisted. "The last thing you remember was your birthday?"
"Yea." I answered. "You and Mom gave me that old beater truck. We had a party...and that's it. The start of the party."
"Nothing from later that night?" He asked intently and I shook my head. "Alright then. Sit tight bud."
Dad turned to leave the room and I jumped up from the bed in protest. When the large bald black man started toward me dad waved him away and turned around to look at me.
"Yes?" He asked.
"What the hell is going on?" I demanded. "Why am I in some kind of psych hospital?!"
"We can talk about it at home later." He told me firmly. "Your mom is on here way."
All I could do was sit and wait. I knew that tone when I heard it. It was Dad's, that's final tone and I knew better then to argue with it. An hour later the large bald black man returned carrying a bag of my clothes. He laid them on the bed and smiled.
"Glad your doing better J." He told me in a deep rumbling tone. The dude looked remarkably like Michael Clark Duncan. "Name's Dwight."
"Do we...know one another?" I asked looking down at the bag of clothes.
"I'd say we've gotten to know one another fairly well the last couple..."
I watched his mouth clamp shut and his eyes narrow. As if he had come very close to saying something he shouldn't have and fell silent. The last couple what, I remember myself thinking. Days? Hours? Weeks? Months? But he never finished.
"Doc Matthews wants you to get dressed." He added. "Yur old lady's here."
As soon as he left I quickly stripped off the solid white outfit and the slip on shoes. I pulled the items from the bag and laid them out on the bed. Baggy blue jeans, faded and ripped at the knees. A leather belt and leather wallet with a small chain. Black tank top with a simple black T-shirt and my boots.
Lying on the boots was a small envelope. I pulled the flap open and dumped out the contents on the bed. My rings, earring and eighty-four dollars in cash. What I had in my wallet the night of the party and the rings I had been wearing.
"What the hell happened that night?" I whispered.
I changed quickly and slipped the rings onto my middle and ring finger on each hand. Noticing one was missing I searched through the pockets of my jeans and all over the bed but it was nowhere to be found. It was the ring I wore on my the ring finger of my left hand. My wedding ring, for lack of a better term. The ring I wore there to tell people i'd never get married.
Realizing it was gone I slipped the folded up envelope into my back pocket and stuffed the cash into my wallet. I made my way to the small mirror bolted into the wall above the sink and stared at my reflection. I knew the deep piercing green eyes that stared back at me. Knew the scar on my eyebrow and the scar on the left side of my hairline above my eyebrow.
I didn't however remember the small scar on my jaw beneath the stubble or the long angry red scar that ran down my chest from my right collarbone. I ran my fingertip over the angry red scar.
I hear my own heavy pain filled breath in the darkness. There is blood and glass everywhere. I can feel it run wet down my chest and face in the darkness.
I flinched as the image struck me.
"J?" A voice called out so scared. "Jason! Stop!"
I could hear it clean as day. Filled with pain and sorrow. It echoed through my mind. A voice I knew but couldn't place.
"What the hell happened?" I whispered again touching the mirror on my face.
"Jason!"
I spun around and found my mom standing in the doorway of the room. Her hair was a little longer then I remember but her smile was just as radiant as ever. She ran across the room and wrapped her arms around me burying her face in my chest as she wept.
"Your father told me you remember him." She cried. "Oh Jason we thought we'd lost you forever."
I placed my hands on her small shoulders and pushed her back a bit. My mother was fairly tall for the women of the family at five foot nine, but I dwarfed her. Last time I checked I was six foot one but I didn't tower this much over her before. I must have grown.
"What the hell is going on Mom?" I demanded.
"We can't talk about it honey." She whispered and wiped her eyes. "Your dad thinks you might relapse."
"Mom!" I protested.
She just shook her head firmly and took me by the hand. She led me from the room. Dwight stood outside the door with a sad smile on her lips and inclined his head in farewell as she led me through the halls of the hospital.
Dad was waiting for us in the lobby. He had changed out of the white coat and back into the suit. He walked with us to the parking lot where I stopped and stared. Sitting in the parking spot across from the entrance to the facility was the brown and yellow beater truck they had gotten me for my birthday.
"I never got the chance to drive it." I whispered with glee.
Mom looked sharply at dad when I said this but he just shook his head. I knew when we got to the truck what the look was about. The Dallas Cowboys helmet hanging from the rear view mirror. The 'It's a truck, if I wanted a hummer I'd call your sister' bumper sticker on the back window. This wasn't the first time I had driven this truck. I had even begun to customize it.
I stood chewing on my bottom lip by the drivers side door staring into the truck when Dad leaned down and looked at me intently through the truck.
"Something wrong champ?" He asked trying to sound calm but his eyes told a different story. "You look a little pale buddy."
"I've driven this truck." I said matter of fact.
"Don't try and track it down son." He told me firmly. "Let it come on it's own. You okay to drive?"
All I could do was nod. I pulled the door open and slid into the drivers seat. Dad sat between me and mom and mom sat next to the passenger door. As I wrapped my hands around the steering wheel.
She's a beautiful blonde girl with gray eyes. I look down at my lap and see her eyes look up at me.
A cruel smile on her lips as she runs her tongue up and down the length of my exposed cock. She moans happily as she wraps her lips around the head and begins to bob her head up and down. Hungry suction noises filling the truck.
Next to me mom was opening her mouth to speak but dad shook his head firmly. The pair remained quiet as I looked around the truck clearly not there anymore. Then as quickly as it came the flash was gone and my hands loosened. They had been gripping the wheel so tight my knuckles were white.
