eerieindiana | fic - Memories Received

Day three, fic number 3.

“Why can’t you just admit you’re wrong?” Dash spat, more strands of gray hair falling loose from his ponytail. “Suck it up, Teller. I’m right!”

“Like hell you are!” Mars shot back, his blue eyes blazing. “What would you know, anyway?! You’ve spent a good chunk of your teens in a jail cell!”

“You son of a—“ Dash began and grabbed Mars’s wrist—

—and then the world went black.

Time passed. It could’ve been a minute, an hour, a day; Dash didn’t know. But suddenly, the black evaporated and images took its place:

An unfamiliar bedroom, with a New York Giants lamp on the side table;

A birthday party, a cake with seven candles, and a little boy with brown hair and blue eyes, grinning from ear to ear—

It was Marshall.

What the…? Confusion swept over Dash like a tidal wave, and he was suddenly terrified: what if he got stuck in this.... place? The images kept going:

The Tellers’ driveway and a moving truck, with a grumpy Mars refusing to leave the Volvo;

Mr. Cheney in full-on werewolf mode, advancing on Mars— or on me, Dash thought, as the perspective shifted— jaws open and glistening with saliva;

An open notebook, but he wasn’t close enough to read the text—

“Get out of my head!”

Abruptly the world returned, and Mars, after yanking his arm away, stumbled backwards, looking simultaneously traumatized and furious. His face was totally white.

“Umm…” Simon looked back and forth between Mars and Dash. “What just happened?”

Dash looked down at his palms, which felt like they were buzzing with electricity. A current. “I have no idea.”

“You… you were in my head.”

Dash and Simon, as one, looked at Mars like he’d gone nuts. He pointed a trembling finger at Dash and repeated, “You were inside my head. I don’t know how, but you… you trespassed in my memories.”

“Holy corn,” Simon muttered.

“I…” Dash didn’t understand why, but he felt like he had to apologize. “I-I’m sorry.”

“You’re sorry?!” Clearly Marshall didn’t believe him, and his fury was beginning to overpower any discomfort he felt. “Just because you have no memories of your own doesn’t give you the right to probe mine!”

“That’s it!” Simon’s eyes lit up like he’d just won a million dollars. “Guys, I think that’s it!”

“What is?” Marshall questioned, forcing himself to remain calm.

“I think I know why you don’t have any memories, Dash,” Simon said. “I think you’re a blank slate on purpose, so you have room for everyone else’s memories.”

It was a huge revelation, one that neither Mars nor Dash had considered. Dash sat down with a thump on the ground and let the idea sink in. But Mars, quickly recovering his wits, marched up to Dash and leaned over him.

“What did you see, anyway?”

“Just a few things. A bedroom. A birthday.” Dash’s brow furrowed as he tried to remember it all. “You moving to Eerie. Mr. Cheney. And I saw a notebook.”

“Yeah? That all?”

“Yes. That’s it.” Dash looked up at him, saw his expression, and scowled. “You think I’m lyin’, don’t you?”

“Don’t know. I never know with you.” But Mars let the matter go; they’d both had enough for one day.