Behind These Walls (Mature, AU UC) Starting!!

[Fehr'sBear]

ooc: Okay, so when we start off, it's mid-morning for the first day. The roswellians only arrived two days ago, and the others are still wary of them, just like the roswellians are wary of the others. And to make it clear, in case I wasn't before, the Roswellians all remember each other, but not really much else. Like, they remember being friends, and it's up to your characters whether or not they want to remember past relationships, since this is UC. If you have any questions, feel free to ask me.

Tegan

The room is frightening, with it's completely steel walls and obvious two way mirror. Latched to the table, all I can see is the ceiling, a steel reflection of myself, blurred but still recognizable. The man with the syringe walks up to my side, and I try to thrash my arm around, but not fast enough. As the sedative sets in, I stare up at my reflection, unable to react when I see the reflection no longer mimicking my face. Watching with surprise, I see my reflection involuntarily smile and whisper,"Don't worry, you're safe with me."

Waking up with a start, I find myself in bed, staring up not at metal but at the crappy paint job of the ceiling in my bedroom. "Just a dream," I mutter almost inaudibly, thinking back to the incredibly vivd dream that I've been having for a few days. The thing is, it's not entirely a dream. I've been in the metal room before, and I swear to god I've seen that girl in my reflection. I just never remember anything that happens in between.

It's been that way since I arrived here about a year or so ago, the newest of the group, other than those weird kids that showed up a few days ago. But back to the topic at hand. Ever since I woke up in this place, with absolutely no memory of anything before that day - no memory of family, friends, or experiences - I've gotten the feeling that I'm not alone in my head. There'll be the occasional time when I look in the mirror that I feel like I'm not looking at myself. And then there are the whispers that I only hear when I'm under the sedation they use. I can't make sense of it all yet, but I definitely plan to.

Well, back to the present. Sliding out of bed, I wander into my personal bathroom, where I shower quickly, and throw on an outfit before heading to the rec room to see who else is awake. Shutting my door behind me, I walk down a good length of the hallway, past the doors of my friends, and enter the open one on the left, not at all surprised to see that the new kids are in here, being stared at by everyone else. They seem a little unsure of talking to us, and I'm not surprised. When I first woke up here I was scared beyond belief. But we all came at different times, alone. They all know each other, and arrived together. That's what's different.

I look over to the couch, where they are all huddled, and instead head over and stuff myself onto the loveseat between two people. "You guys, stop staring. You're freaking them out."

[Fehr'sBear]

Eliza

I open my eyes and let out a yawn, stretching as I sit up on my still made bed. Smiling, I feel around for my shoes and pull them on, since I'm already dressed. I must have stayed up so late last night that I didn't bother to change back. I mean, I generally stay up late, since it's the only time I can see everything.

Sure, being blind is not fun, in fact it's a bit of a curse, I mean, who would want to live their days in the dark, unable to see what everyone around them can? But I have one advantage to other blind persons. I can see clearly at night, in fact, more clearly than most people, being that I can see through things as well. I just wish it was the other way around, and that I could see during the day, so I could be like everyone else. It's bad enough that I've been stuck in this place for eleven years, but I don't have any memories of before, even if I was able to see then. At least I've got friends here.

Speaking of friends...once I'm dressed and I've freshened up, I leave my room and feel my way two doors down and cross the hall, knocking on Keith's door. Keith and I have been instant friends since he arrived here, and I make it a habit to know exactly where his room is. I've been inside it at night before; I make it a habit to visit all of the places I go at night, so I can remember things about them when I go there during the way.

I knock again on Keith's door, and when he doesn't answer, I turn the knob and walk in as usual. He's always sleeping late in the mornings, and I swear if I didn't wake him up, no one would.

"Wake up sleepyhead!" I say cheerily, feeling for and then sitting on the edge of the bed.

[Fehr'sBear]

Kieran

Head against the side of the armchair and eyes closed, I try to tune out the sounds of the newbies mumbling, and the loud voice of Tegan as she barrels through the rec room. God, why are people so lucid in the morning? Well, I actually should be blaming myself for even being in here. I hate that I wake up early. It's like I have a biological alarm clock set for dawn. And it drives me crazy, because no matter how hard I try to go back to sleep, I can't. Which is why I'm in here, trying to pretend I don't exist. Maybe, just maybe, I'll be left alone.

Too late. Hardly a second's gone by, and already I hear Tegan take a seat on the nearby loveseat, and immediately start a conversation with whoever is sitting there. God, do I feel bad for them. Yet, I'm so glad I chose to sit in the one place Tegan wouldn't try to fit in. Sure, she's a nice girl, but she's too crazy and loud in the morning. Of course, if you don't know her, you wouldn't be able to tell. Around people she doesn't know, Tegan practically clams up. I like it when she's around people she doesn't know in the morning.

She keeps talking, so I give up on sleep and open my eyes, glancing around the room. A group of the new kids are all huddled around the couch, and one of them stares over at me warily. Whatever, I could care less why they're here. I have enough of a problem trying to figure out why I'm here, and I've been here for five years.

I let out an inaudible sigh as one of the group looks over at me, at us across the room. I give it five minutes tops before one of them comes over here.

[madroswellfan]

~~~~~KEITH~~~~~
*Knock*

Sleeeep....tooo early...must be dreaming....

"Wake up, sleepyhead,"
And then I feel something on my bed. I yawn and slowly open my eyes. I quickly rub them as I slowly sit up. Another morning....another day trapped in here. Its only then I realise Eliza is sitting on my bed. I would get out of the bed... but I'm only in my boxers. Maybe not..

"Hey..." I saw as I stretch carefully, making sure my duvet cover stays covering my waist. My top half I don't care about though. She's seen it all before. "What time is it..."

I look at the clock and groan. I quickly lie down again and move the duvet to cover my head. "Too early.." I moan.

[StormWolfstone]

ooc: hope this works Fehr's Bear... if it doesn't let me know and I'll change it... also working on a Michael post as well.

~Liz~

I spent hours sitting or laying in the room where I woke up that first day. It was only two days ago but things go so strangely in this place. My name is Liz; I keep reminding myself of the things I know. Because, suddenly I woke up here that day and couldn’t remember much of anything. When I’d wandered into the hall I’d seen others, lots of others but only a few that were familiar. Max, I’m not quite certain how well I knew him but I felt like I was comfortable around him. Michael, for some reason I felt really safe when I saw him and the same with Kyle. When I saw Isabel, Tess and Maria it felt as though we were somehow close but more so with Isabel then the others.

I have a little bit of memory about being some place with all of them, laughing about something, but it still feels off. I don’t know quite what good it would do but I want to write things down, make notes of each day, afraid that I’ll forget something else. I can’t keep myself from shivering at the thought of waking up and not knowing anyone. Of being alone. Then I think about the fact that I really don’t remember whether I was often social or not. How is it I can remember knowing these six people, but I don’t really remember a great deal about them?

Did I date any of the guys? I envy Isabel. She seems to have the looks that could get all the attention. But, like I’d said, I’d spent hours sitting or laying in my room here. I’ve barely been able to sleep. I’m afraid to sleep too much, afraid I’ll wake up and find myself forgetting even my own name or I’ll be somewhere else. So, I lay awake, dozing for short periods and then early the last couple of days, I’d shower and change into the clothes that were provided for me before going into the recreation room.

The other’s that I know cycle in and we have spent the past couple days trying to figure our situation out. There are others here, I just don’t know them and they keep staring at us. “What are we going to do?” I hear myself as my friends. I can call them that, I do remember enough to know we were friends and if I ever lost that I don’t know what I’d do. “We need to find out more about this place…”

Michael seemed to roll his eyes as he shook his head, “Well, we’re not going to get those answers if we don’t start asking the others.”

I glance over toward the other kids that have obviously formed a tight group. I don’t understand why they think we’re so odd, but I can tell from their expressions when they look at us that they do. I turn back to looking at the others I came here with, “The question is, can we trust them?”

Michael shrugged his shoulders and motioned to our group as he spoke, “Honestly, I don’t even know why I’m trusting any of you. So, somehow I remember knowing all of you, but I have no clue how close any of us were.”

I know that feeling and that’s what scares me. I don’t like not knowing things about us, about myself. Why am I here? Why did we get brought here? How did we lose so much memory? Were we kidnapped? What about our families? Just thinking that last question I have a flash of someone and I’m almost certain that it’s my father, he’s smiling about something. As quickly as it starts it’s gone.

“I just think we need to find a way to analyze the situation so we can determine what we’re doing here and what to do about it. Maybe in the process we’ll learn more about our memories and whether they were simply repressed or completely wiped. I find it rather unusual that the memories we mainly seem to have are of knowing each other and why they would remain while others are relatively gone. I mean, could it have been that we were all so close that while whatever was being done to us we held onto the memories of each other so closely that we fought the disabling of those memories?”

[StormWolfstone]

~Michael~


I hate this place. That’s the main thought that has gone through my head since I woke up in this place two days ago. I may not remember much, but I had a home and I want to get back to it. Somehow I have the feeling that there wasn’t much I liked about it, but there’s nothing about this place I like. Sure, it’s great that I actually remember my little group but trust them? I don’t think I trust all of them and probably didn’t completely trust them outside of this place.

Somehow I have a feeling that I didn’t trust all of them but considered Max as family. I felt somehow protective of everyone though, even if I didn’t really trust all of them completely. That first day waking up here though was interesting to say the least. I’d opened my eyes and looked around the room finding it poorly painted and decorated. Not knowing where I was or what was going on, I’d found myself lashing out angrily in the room for a moment and thrown up my hand only to suddenly find a dresser bursting apart.

So, I had some form of power. I couldn’t remember if I’d always had it or not. Vaguely I recall being in some strange room with a needle going into my neck but that’s all I remember. I’ve tried not to bring that up in front of the girl’s. The last thing I want to do is get them more upset if they hadn’t seen something similar. However, at the first chance I had that first day, I’d brought it up in private with Kyle and Max but hadn’t had the chance to find out whether they remembered anything like it because the girl’s had come up.

There’s one thing I know… we need to get out of this place.

So, that’s one of the things we’ve discussed the last couple of days, huddled in our group. I did my best to curb my temper with everyone staring at us. “We need to find out more about this place…” I turn and look at Liz, rolling my eyes before shaking my head.

“Well, we’re not going to get those answers if we don’t start asking the others.” I watch her look at them a moment and turn myself, noting that they are all staring at us other then one who seems to be trying to sleep.

“The question is, can we trust them?” Liz asks, and I can’t help but think she’s calmer about this today then she had been.

Shrugging I motioned each of them, “Honestly, I don’t even know why I’m trusting any of you. So, somehow I remember knowing all of you, but I have no clue how close any of us were.”

“I just think we need to find a way to analyze the situation so we can determine what we’re doing here and what to do about it. Maybe in the process we’ll learn more about our memories and whether they were simply repressed or completely wiped. I find it rather unusual that the memories we mainly seem to have are of knowing each other and why they would remain while others are relatively gone. I mean, could it have been that we were all so close that while whatever was being done to us we held onto the memories of each other so closely that we fought the disabling of those memories?” Liz goes on to say and I can’t keep from wanting to yell at her that she’s crazy for even caring about that part of things.

Instead, I take a deep breath before stating, “I could care less how we manage to still remember each other. That has nothing to do with the fact that I plan to find someway out of this blasted place.” I realize that my voice has risen and glance around wondering if anyone had heard me before turning back and lowering my voice. “The best thing for us to do right now, is find a way out of here. We can worry about the memory issue later.”

[OnDragonflyWings]

~Tess~

I sigh slightly as Michael and Liz both get more frustrated with our situation. It's not like I'm not frustrated with it, but us arguing with each other hasn't yeilded any results yet, so maybe we should try something different now.

There's a world outside of these walls. I don't really remember it. I kinda feel like I didn't really like it, but it was my life. And it has to be better than living in a box, than being trapped. And I'd like to get back to it now.

But we have no information. We know about ourselves, but we don't really remember our families, or any of a million other little things.

Instict. That's all it is right now. We act on instinct. We hope against hope that the instinctive versions of ourselves is really who we are.

And for some reason we ahve this innate knowing of each other. Not necessarily, remembering each other, but just knowing in the familiarity of it all, that this is right, that we belong together, that we are close. Who knows how, or why.

"We're gonna need to get information...and they're probably the only ones who have it..." I say as I glance at the others across the room. They are not part of our group, they are new, we are new, whatever. Again, all instinct, all things I feel I jsut simply know.

And trustworthy or not, they hold the keys to the kingdom. Hopefully we won't find out that they tricked us, lied to us along the way. Hopefully we won't wish we'd stayed blissfully unaware.

[OnDragonflyWings]

OOC: FehrsBear, did you ahve something specific you wanted Rebecca to remember, or is it fair game for me to make it up? Keeping the memory vague, since I'm not sure, lol.

~Rebecca~

Voices. Loud voices. Blurred pictures. And loud voices. I recognize them as it all dances through my head in near whirlwind speed. It's muffled. I can't focus, can't grab onto it. Not today. The one thing that doesn't escape me is the fear that clenches in my chest, makes me wanna scream.

Don't scream, everyone will know. Know you have bad dreams. Know you have something they don't. KNow you remember.

But most importantly they'll know you know. You'll lose the act. Just don't scream.

The voices get closer, louder, more distorted.

DOn't reach out for it, don't try and focus. It's only a dream. Only a memory. Let it pass. Feel the fear and let it pass.

It's like waves on the beach, if you let it in, if you let it be. Sometimes the memory stays unfocused. Sometimes it comes crystal clear. But in the times that it's unfocused if I dont try and see it, I jsut feel it and it goes away.

The fear though is crippling, steals everything from me. Mkaes me wanna scream, sometimes makes screaming the only thing I remember how to do.

But like right now...it always passes. It's gone for now, but I know it'll be back.

It haunts me, but it's mine. I can't share it with anyone. It's easier to pretend to be carefree, to pretend not to know any better than to be weighed down by it all. And sometimes when the memory isn't here, I'm not really pretending.

I go through my morning routine almost mechanically, the fear still crippling me, changing the way my mind works. I shower, I get dressed, I put on some makeup. And then I look in the mirror and do what I always do at times like this. I lie to myself.

"My name is Rebecca Sierra. I'm 17. And I'm happy."

ANd then I smile. And then I float a little. The floating, flying, whatever you wanna call it, always puts me at ease, makes me feel lighter. It makes me giggle.

And that's all it takes. A lie. A well maintained lie. A little flying. And by the time I leave my room, I believe it for truth. And I'll continue to believe it until I rememebr again.

I make my way into the main room and chuckle slightly. It's been an us versus them stand off for days now. And it all seems really unnecessary, but they did just suddenly show up....together. THat's the weirder part than them showing up at all. But something tells me they're just like us...only they have the luxury of rememebring each ther as friends from the start.

"Good morning," I exclaim to anyone who cares to answer or talk to me as I throw myself haphazardly onto the nearest piece of furniture.

I'm pretty sure I'm leaning halfway across someone, but I don't really care.

[FaithfulAngel24]

*Maria*

“We need to find out more about this place…” The pretty brunette called Liz states and in response the spiky haired boy who seems so irritatingly familiar simply rolls his eyes. I feel like I should know that gesture very well although I haven’t the slightest clue as to why. After all I don’t remember much but just based by first impressions I don’t think there is any way I would spend any significant amount of time with him. Still he’s not entirely terrible to look at.

Maybe if he didn’t act like he had a chip on his shoulder. “Well, we’re not going to get those answers if we don’t start asking the others.” He blurts seemingly annoyed by the situation as well as by us. Yeah he’s hot I’ll give him that but too high maintaince. “The question is, can we trust them?” Liz questions and I try to flash her a comforting smile. Out of the group she is the one I feel the most assured about. There’s something about her mannerisms and the sound of her voice that puts me at ease.

I hope that we were great friends in the past that I cannot remember. Michael gives an attitude filled expression before sputtering out garbage. “Honestly, I don’t even know why I’m trusting any of you. So, somehow I remember knowing all of you, but I have no clue how close any of us were.” I narrow my eyebrows at him in aggravation. As much as he irritates me I feel as if there is something between us. Perhaps it’s simply pure revulsion for one another but I sense that is deeper then I am able to tap into.

I’m not going to bother myself trying to figure it out. What if there was something horrible that happened causing us to have our memories swiped clean. There could be a comfort in the not knowing. “I just think we need to find a way to analyze the situation so we can determine what we’re doing here and what to do about it. Maybe in the process we’ll learn more about our memories and whether they were simply repressed or completely wiped. I find it rather unusual that the memories we mainly seem to have are of knowing each other and why they would remain while others are relatively gone.

I mean, could it have been that we were all so close that while whatever was being done to us we held onto the memories of each other so closely that we fought the disabling of those memories?” Liz states matter of factly and I can’t help but be in awe of her intelligence. She is rather smart. I’m going to stick close to her. If a solution is to be found I think she will be the source or at least a part of it. The guy Michael whose mere presence disturbs me on a level I’d rather not tap into replies,

“I could care less how we manage to still remember each other. That has nothing to do with the fact that I plan to find someway out of this blasted place.” His raised voice was unsettling in this unbearably quiet room. I can’t help but feel like I’m uncomfortable in my own skin. What is going on here? He significantly lowers his voice and continues on with his rant. “The best thing for us to do right now, is find a way out of here. We can worry about the memory issue later.”

He might be onto something. Although what if the people here are the only ones who know who we are. What if we never find out the truth? Could I live this way for the rest of my life? Not remember my favorite color or who my first kiss was with. My thoughts are interrupted my the short blonde chick.

"We're gonna need to get information...and they're probably the only ones who have it..." She glances around to each of us as if to conclude her point. “ I think we should talk to the others. It can’t hurt can it? They have obviously been here much longer then us. Enough to form a tight knit click that looks like it would be harder to infiltrate then Fort Knox.” I laugh a bit at my own joke until my words strike a chord. I hear a rush of words being spoken in a voice that sounds a lot like mine.

“Then where's Liz?? I mean, why is she avoiding me?? Okay, first of all, Liz is never late right? She walks into homeroom today, and goes and sits next to Pam Troy. She like, hates Pam Troy and you know like, goes around admitting it openly...and...Alex are you listening to me??”

What? Was that a memory of some sorts? Who the hell is Alex and what does all this mean? I’ve got more questions then answers right now and so I’m willingly to do whatever it takes to get to the bottom of this. Even if it means I have to go up to a group of complete strangers and put myself at their mercy. “If we are going to even try this we are going to have to establish some kind of trust between us.” I look at Michael a tad skeptically.

“I know that we don’t exactly remember each other but there’s still residual feelings for one another right?” I look at the amber eyed one that is referred to as Max. “I can’t exactly place how we would have known one another but I immediately recognize you as a friend of sorts. Like perhaps we confided in each other once.” Does that sound entirely crazy? “Anyway we may have to bank on those feeling to stand in place as trust until we are able to recall who we really are and what we are doing here.”

[FaithfulAngel24]

*Isabel*

“We need to find out more about this place…” The petite ravened hair girl says in an effort to take charge of our less then glamorous situation. Michael dramatically rolls his eyes in response. I’m not sure why but even though I don’t know remember myself entirely I recognize Michael and Max as family. Kindred. I can’t explain why and the notion could be entirely foolish. Still I feel like we are the same. The others I regard with just as much as affection but in an entirely different way. I feel obligated to take up for them. Stand beside them in all respects.

“Well, we’re not going to get those answers if we don’t start asking the others.” He growls none to happy with our lack of progress. We’ve been here for a couple of days but alas we’ve learned nothing new. “The question is, can we trust them?” Liz responds and I immediately want to shout ‘No!’ Apparently I have real trust issues. I wonder if that has anything to do with the life that I can‘t remember.

“Honestly, I don’t even know why I’m trusting any of you. So, somehow I remember knowing all of you, but I have no clue how close any of us were“ Michael spouts. That stings a bit but I’m not sure why. I mean what if he’s right. Even though there’s a sense of comfort among us there could be a traitor in our midst and we just can’t sense it. Are my feelings wrong? Could my heart be lying to me? I feel at ease with these people but I know nothing of them.

Even more frustrating I know nothing of myself. Except for the fact that I am incredibly good looking. Let’s just say I lucked out in the genetics department. I’m not trying to sound vain ,but I looked in the mirror this morning and dazzled myself. That’s at least one thing to be grateful for. I am interrupted from thoughts of how gorgeous I am by Liz who seems to have a plan of sorts.

“I just think we need to find a way to analyze the situation so we can determine what we’re doing here and what to do about it. Maybe in the process we’ll learn more about our memories and whether they were simply repressed or completely wiped. I find it rather unusual that the memories we mainly seem to have are of knowing each other and why they would remain while others are relatively gone. I mean, could it have been that we were all so close that while whatever was being done to us we held onto the memories of each other so closely that we fought the disabling of those memories?”

Okay, while I was blessed in the looks department she was clearly given the brains. Michael can’t be pleased at this point for he yells, “I could care less how we manage to still remember each other. That has nothing to do with the fact that I plan to find someway out of this blasted place.” The others seemed quite interested in us now. All staring at us as if we are all some kind of freaks. I suddenly feel very uncomfortable. Like I am under some kind of microscope being studied. I don’t like this feeling at all.

“The best thing for us to do right now, is find a way out of here. We can worry about the memory issue later.” He finishes with a huff. I turn to the one I am the closest to and have the incredible urge to blurt out ‘What do we do know, Max?’ That‘s an odd reaction. "We're gonna need to get information...and they're probably the only ones who have it..." The pretty blonde named Tess states and I think she might have the right idea. She also seems familiar in that certain way.

I can‘t quite describe it and fear that I would degrade it if I try to do so. “ I think we should talk to the others. It can’t hurt can it? They have obviously been here much longer then us. Enough to form a tight knit click that looks like it would be harder to infiltrate then Fort Knox.” Maria giggles and then her animated expression goes blank. Worry develops for a girl I‘m not even sure I know but I suppress the urge to ask her what‘s wrong. I am afraid we are all being haunted by a past we can‘t remember and a future that could be forgotten if we don‘t figure this out and soon.

“If we are going to even try this we are going to have to establish some kind of trust between us.” She looks to Michael with an expression I can‘t quite place and immediately I am drawn in by the look exchanged between the two of them.

“Are you 2 flirting? God, could my life get any worse?”

Where did that come from? I shake my head as if to physically remove the voice of myself in my head. This is crazy! Why don’t I know who I am? “I know that we don’t exactly remember each other but there’s still residual feelings for one another right?” The same chick looks to Max and mutters “I can’t exactly place how we would have known one another but I immediately recognize you as a friend of sorts. Like perhaps we confided in each other once.”

We all have feelings toward one another but are unable to decipher the meaning behind them. “Anyway we may have to bank on those feeling to stand in place as trust until we are able to recall who we really are and what we are doing here.” She finishes with a look of determination. This is when I choose to throw in my two cents. “We know even less about them then we do about ourselves. What if this is all a set up of sorts? We could be helping those who are holding us captured by swapping info with them.” I state while looking at each of them carefully.

Something has to trigger a memory of some sorts. Nope. Nothing. Well, it was worth a try I guess.