I walk through the forest, barefoot and cold as the autumn winds spun the colorful leaves around my feet. I’ve been walking for quite some time, and I have no idea where I am, or who I am. The last thing I remember is waking up in a daze on the side of the road.

I shake my head to clear my thoughts and continue forward. My clothes are soaked in blood, and I think it’s mine, but where it’s coming from, I do not know. I can’t feel most of my body because it’s too cold and my adrenaline is too high, but something is telling me that I most likely don’t want to know.

As I walk, something instinctual is telling me to pay attention to my surroundings, so I do. A cold autumn breeze is blowing, the trees are oranges, reds, and browns and I feel like this scene should be familiar with me. A memory brushes the back of my mind, and I can almost feel a warmer autumn day, and then it’s gone and I’m left more clueless than before. I realize that I’m no longer moving and look down at my feet. Where the ground wasn’t covered in leaves, green moss could be seen in patches on the forest floor where the sun didn’t reach, and where it did, green grass grew. I studied this for a moment then continued to walk without destination.

Not much longer the sun begins to set along with my energy. All it takes for me to meet the ground is a small exposed root at the top of a small hill, and the last of my energy leaves me. I feel the previously wet places on my abdomen, back and legs start to dampen again and confirm my suspicion that the blood belonged to me.

The ground is surprisingly comfortable to my aching body, albeit cold, and I no longer want to move. My eyes drift upwards as my vision starts to tunnel and the last thing I see are 4 large racked deer watching me from not even 10 feet away.

When I wake up, I feel warmth. But more than that, I feel pain in my entire body. So much pain.

I gasped and sat up quickly, which sent even more sharp pain jolting through me. I cried out and my vision blurred. There was a rustling noise near me and then the darkness consumed me again.

The next time I woke up, the pain was no longer as severe, but everything felt stiff and almost constricted.

This time I only opened my eyes. I found myself staring at a white ceiling. I slowly allowed myself to look around the room I was currently in. A nice, decent sized room with gray walls, a white dresser and nightstand, and a white metal framed bed with a blue duvet that seemed familiar to me, and soothed me. This is where I laid.

I looked over and saw one white door leading out, a smaller door to the side that looked like a closet, and on the other side there was another open door that led to a bathroom.The 2 unblocked windows on the opposite side of the room allowed me to see the moon, low in the sky as it just began to rise.

A thousand questions ran through my mind and I looked down to see myself in an oversized t-shirt that smelled like men’s cologne and I could feel the bandages tight around my abdomen and legs and became thankful for the looseness of the shirt. From under the thick duvet, I try to relax some and pull it closer in attempt to hide from the world when the door slowly opens. I watch it warily, curious to see the person on the other side of the door, but at the same time wishing they would stay on their side.

“Emily?” the man called from the door.

He’s tall and handsome, with dirty blond hair and green eyes, but I don’t have much time to linger on these details before a wave of familiarity washes over me. The look in his eyes tells me that he knows me very well.

“Is that my name?” The question leaves my mouth before I even thought it through.

The man looked like my question pained him but he nodded slowly and came over to me.

“What do you remember?” He asked, concern filling his eyes and facial expression. I feel like this look should be familiar…

“Before waking up on the side of the road? Nothing,” I croak out, my throat starting to ache for water.

As if he can read my mind, he picks up a glass of water off of my nightstand and holds it up to my mouth, letting me take a long drink.

“I was afraid of that. You were on your way here and had a car accident. When you didn’t come home, I went out looking for you and found your car demolished, so I looked for in the woods. You had pretty much walked in a straight line for 5 miles so it wasn’t that hard,” he looked pained.

“5 miles huh?” I mumbled to myself, slowly trying to sit up.

Before I even realized he had moved, he was by my side and helping me sit up, letting me use his body for support and balance. I got sat up and looked back up at him.

“Who are you?” I questioned, watching that tormented look come back to his eyes but his face was smiling.

“I guess a re-introduction would be in order. My names Christian, I’m your best friend.”

My head tilted to the side, studying him for a moment, then turned my attention to the door when I heard footsteps. The man that appeared in the doorway was even taller than Christian and had black hair, and blue eyes. He seemed arrogant in even the way he walked.

“I dunno about that man, I thought we agreed I was her best friend,” the new man retorted, arms crossing his chest with a smirk.

Christian laughed, “As if, more like an annoying brother that follows her around to pull her hair.”

“I only did that once!” He exclaimed.

Christian must’ve seen the confusion on my face, because his expression softened again.

“This is Emmett,” he informed me.

“I still can’t believe you forgot someone like me, I’m hurt. Then again, you don’t know any of my tricks anymore, so maybe it’s a good thing,” He joked, laughing afterwards.

Christian threw a pillow at him, which hit him in the face and rewarded him with Emmett’s surprised yell, then playful glare.

This felt so familiar, but so foreign at the same time. I felt like I should know what this feels like and looks like, that moments like this dominated my life at some point, but any memory of times like this no longer exist to me, for now. It’s like remembering the things that happen in a book that you can’t really remember. You remember the emotion and hold a vague feeling of what happened, but it happened to someone else. Not you.

I came back to my senses with the help of the man named Emmett waving his hand in my face.

“Earth to Emily, is anyone up there?” He inquired, his voice raising in volume to catch my attention.

I jumped and looked back at him, thoroughly startled.

“Glad to see that you’re still as spacey as ever,” He mocked, shaking his head at me.

Christian chuckled and looked back at me, then got up and left. I watched him go, confused, and Emmett followed on his heels. Minutes later I heard playful yelling from another part of the house.

After a few minutes of me watching the door, Christian came back through with a plate of food.

“You must be hungry,” he said, sitting on the edge of the bed, handing me the black plastic tray that held a plate of breakfast food.

Avocado toast, eggs, biscuits and gravy, and baked apples. My stomach growled so loud that Emmett, who had returned to the door, heard it and laughed.

I slowly started eating, trying to not make myself sick. I wanted to start eating as fast as I could get it in my mouth, but something told me that I knew better, and that stuffing my face would just result in it all coming back up.

I stopped as I realized what me knowing that meant. I still possess a bodily memory of my past, my subconscious warning me of things that hurt me before, and I know things that I don’t know how I know. Like how a new book smells, or how the clicking of keyboard keys can fill a room. Maybe I’m not the Emily they know right now, but maybe she’s still alive. Somewhere.

The next few days were interesting. I mostly spent my time in bed listening to stories of my past told by Christian and Emmett and looked at the pictures taken over the years. Most days, Christian would help me out of bed for at least an hour and we’d take walks around the house so that I could see the kitchen, the living room, and all the other places other than upstairs. He said the upstairs only held their rooms and another living room, so I didn’t miss much.

He explained to me that my room is downstairs because I’m a klutz and always manage to fall down them on a good day, and he explained my logic behind every furniture placement, type of curtain, color of silverware, and even why I was so bent on having a fluffy rug in the living room. To me, it sounded like he was very observant. He knew so many details.

Though they always seemed willing to tell me all the happy things, they constantly danced around one topic though: Why are we here?
Every time I asked, my question received another question or the subject changed. Emmett usually would just respond with “Why do you care?”, but Christian would either tell me we’d discuss it later or would diverge to another topic. To say that the situation frustrates me would be an understatement.

Over the past few days, more and more of those annoying memories appear just out of my reach, like they reside in the back of my mind, whispering to me, and every time I lean in to hear, they scare and run away. Everyday I want my memory more and more. It belongs to me, and I want it back.

My train of thought derails when Christian comes to get me for our daily walk, but today he seems stressed.

“We’re going upstairs today,” he says, coming over to my bed.

“Alright, is everything ok?” I ask, sitting up and my fresh bandages tighten on me from my movement.

All he responds with is a nod before picking me up. I yelp in surprise, normally he helps me to my feet, but today he’s just picked me up like a toddler. He turns and walks out of my room to the stairs and goes up them, as if I weigh nothing.

Once we’re upstairs, I don’t have much time before I’m unmercifully set on a bed in a room that looks like Emmett’s. Black covers, posters of cars all over the place, the normal furniture all in black, with gray carpet and a door to a bathroom like my own. His windows are uncovered.

Now I’m alone. There’s yelling downstairs from Emmett and Christian, but also a voice I don’t know, screaming, “Where is she?!” over and over again.

I manage to get myself in the floor, hidden by the bed if you were at the door. About the time I’m hid, I hear footsteps on the stairs coming my way. Something is screaming at me in the back of my mind to be afraid, you know that voice and that voice means danger. Remember, remember, remember...

There’s a loud band of a door in the room adjacent to mine. More screaming that’s closer, I can practically feel it shaking my bones, and I stay curled up in a fetal position on the ground, half way under the bed.

The door to this room slams open and it’s like a dam is broken and all my memories come flooding to my mind. Years of abuse, pain, and suffering of unspeakable things flash behind my eyes, but then the past year hits and it’s me, Emmett, and Christian and we’re inseparable. Running from Jason together because no one would help because of lack of evidence. The things I see fill up my mind and I realize how empty my head has been, how much I’ve actually been missing. Out of all the surprises this holds for me, realizing that me and Christian were a couple is probably the largest.

I come to my senses and look up to see Jason bursting into the room, his face covered in blood. The world around me slows, and all sound becomes muffled as I see his hand coming towards me, but then Christian is there and Jason is on the floor. In the blink of an eye, Christian  has him pinned to the floor with his knees, his hands pummeling Jason in the face over and over. Time slowly speeds up and the dull thuds echoing in my head became cracking sounds, like breaking bones.

I manage to sit up and scoot back, and my head starts spinning, watching as Emmett came in with a bloody face.

From the corner of my eye I see movement, and I flinch. I then realize it’s only Christian, reaching out to me.

“Are you alright?” He questioned quietly, his hand crossing the space between us, but not touching me.

I nod and slowly move closer, watching his worried face. He doesn't move an inch as I rest against his side and his previously outstretched arm rests over my shoulder. I rest my head on the front of his shoulder and look at Emmett, who has now busied himself with tying Jason up to keep him from moving when he wakes. I look back up at Christian and meet his confused look with a tired smile and his eyes widen.

“Do you..?” he started, then trailed off.

“Remember? Yes,” I replied, yawning, “We’ll talk about it later. I’m tired.”

Without another word said he stood up, gently scooping me up off the ground and laid me on Emmett’s bed.

I yawned again and the last thing I saw before my mental exhaustion took over was the relief on his face as he watched me fall asleep.

The next few days become a flurry of police reports, doctors visits, lawyer visits, and multiple coffee breaks. I don’t think I have ever talked so much, or been talked to by so many people. Jason was being persecuted, he would be put away for a very long time, and we would be allowed to stay with each other without fear of being hurt or being split up. We could go to college, get jobs, do anything we wanted and  it was a relief. Our college would be paid for, our house payment as well until we had jobs to support ourselves. They were trying to makeup for the justice system failing us so long.

Christian and I also had a long talk. He didn't want to tell me about our relationship until I remembered because he didn’t want me to feel pressured into liking him or worrying about him while I was in the condition I was in, ever the gentleman. We set things straight and we’re happy now.  

I start at the local college after my injuries are healed, and Christian and Emmett start tomorrow. I’ll be getting a job at a local library (hopefully), Christian, starts his internship with a local mechanic soon, and Emmett is going into woodwork and construction. Our hopes and dreams are starting to become more than dreams and late night conversations, and I’ve never been more grateful for the two boys. Things finally seem like they'll be alright, that our Hell won’t last any longer.

Even though things look like they’re looking up now, I know we have a lot on our plate and the last few years aren’t going to disappear overnight. I personally have a lot of things to sort through, and I know I’m not going to be totally okay for a long while. Along with all the wonderful things soon starting, I start counseling to deal with my anxiety and PTSD. We hope to find good coping mechanisms and the idea of a service dog has even been mentioned. But, only time can tell. Though things may be difficult, I know I won’t ever really be alone. My little family will support me, as they always have;

Because with them, I’m Found.