II

Body and Soul

She looked down at the picture quickly, attempting to shelter it from the drizzle of raindrops falling upon her hood. Turning it over, she read the words, "See this man. Mr. Whistle." - An address left below. Looking up at the large building, content she'd reached her destination, Annie skipped towards the entrance. She takes a cheeky peer through the brightly-lit window before slamming her puny fist against the wood. The thuds were answered with a squeak of hinges and the appearance of a tall, rather spherical man - more like a large cannonball than a man. She looked up at his face before glancing down at the picture again, taking a second look at his face to be sure, 
"Nope, it's not you. Do you know this man?" She smiles, turning the picture to face the lump. He replies with a grunt, stepping aside to allow her in. Her naivety took over and before she knew it, she was staring in awe at the sparkling decor as she waited quietly. Her curiosity took over and she'd found herself in a side-room taking in the house and all its beauty. She peered up at a large wall decorated with old photographs and newspaper clippings. Her pupils were fixated, soaking in as much of the history as her brain would allow her to process. Was she aware her effort was in vain as she'd soon forget it all? Who knows.. But she had to feed her natural thirst for history all the same, she just couldn't help herself!

She squeaked in fright, startled by the sudden presence of a second man - rather shorter than the first. Offering him the picture, she explains, "I was sent to you. I don't know who by. I have a memo-" he cuts her short, 
"I know all about your condition, Annie." She pauses, unsure of what to make of the man, or her surroundings... or anything happening right now. 
She bursts into speech, "Listen... You're gonna have to explain what's going on here. I'm very confused and I don't like it."
He chuckles and invites her into an adjacent room. Offering her a seat, he sits opposite and begins to explain the situation...

***

Amnesia shuddered, attempting to catch her breath. Beads of sweat ran down the front of her head leaving tracks along her pale skin. Her head flicking from left to right, she gets her bearings. Inhaling sharply before a calm relaxing of her lungs, she begins to find comfort. "Just a dream..." She whispers, sliding herself out of bed and into her slippers.

It was her third day as a Bebop associate and with the fastening of her brooch, she was ready! She took one last read of her 'Morning Reminders' before quickly rushing the brush through her hair for the extra cute finish to her do. Descending the stairs with her humming of a soft tune, she skips into the kitchen to prepare breakfast. Before she manages to even lift a cup, the familiar face from the photo appears, hurrying her towards the door, "C'mon, Annie. No time for that." He swigs the last of his coffee and rushes towards the car behind her. 

With the slamming of the door and an aggressive squeak of the tyres, the car hurtles down the road towards their first destination of the day, "We gotta do pickups today and we're already late." Her face appears puzzled, springing the expected question, "Pickups?"
He looks at her, working out how best to explain it - "Yeah, err.. sight-seeing. Don't worry, you're gonna love it. Let's go."

***

She stands beside the ajar metal door at the entrance of a warehouse. Some muffled shouting is heard from inside. Annie didn't pay much attention to it - she was pretty ignorant to the real danger of what they were doing. This obviously wasn't a legal operation, this was Annie's gangster family history paying her for being born with a particular surname. She never seemed too bothered about the shady wrongdoings of her way of life, though - that which she remembered, of course. Maybe she had a natural comfort with this side of the law, put it down to genes perhaps. However, she'd only faced limited activity so far. Things were about to become a lot more black and white for little Annie Amnesia and she was about to find out just how deep the rabbit hole really dives.

Four rapid gunshots bounced around the walls making their escape for the hills in the far distance. A slight ring overwhelmed Annie's ears as she ducked, sheltering herself behind the corregated door. Panicked and unsure on what to do, she screams out,
"WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT?!" There's no answer.
She looks around her surroundings checking for any signs of activity - no one. Nothing. Creeping past the door and into the building, she attempts to calm her labored breathing.
"HELLO?!" She calls out again, shocking herself with her bravery.
"SHHH!!" - This time, there's an answer. The familiar face scurries towards her, grabbing her arm and dragging her further into the dark, "We need to move quick, grab his legs!"
"His legs..?" She squeals, attempting to regain her balance after tripping over the body. "What the fuck did you do to him?"
The familiar face looks up, unsure whether she's asking a serious question. Brushing it off, he repeats the command, "Grab his fucking legs!"

The two hurry out of the building shuffling the weight of the body between them. Little Annie grunts with every pull before finally dumping him in the back of the car before jumping back in the car and rushing off - much in the same fashion they came here.

This wasn't planned to be a rushed in-and-out job. The 'victim' just owed the wrong people too much money. He was getting harder to squeeze for vig and in the end his name came through the line - pay up or pay dearly. This is just how the business goes. Everyone who dips their toes into this sordid little world knew the risks. Well - most did.

Annie stares at her lap, watching the blood as it dries against her skin leaving a stained pink complexion to her. She looks over at the familiar face and then back down, realising she has little to say right now - or little ability to say it. She understood she'd soon be forgetting this and hoped that the man would not explain to her what had happened for a second time. Her mind travelled, racing from thought to thought, quicker than ever, until reaching one thought she struggled to rid - what if she had been involved in killing people before and just didn't remember? Or wasn't told?

This opened a can of worms and before she knew it, she was faced with countless questions - What sort of person was she? How many times has this happened? Who was she?! She had to find a way of keeping history - a record. She had to find a better way of maintaining her life. She had decided there was no way she could continue life in this state.

She looks back up at the familiar face again - this time, he speaks,
"You okay?"
"Yes," she replies,"but what's all this pink stuff on my hands?"
He smiles, forcing a little air from his nose, "Let's get you home, Annie."