Fake Fan Fiction ❯ Jane Doe ❯ Chapter 6 ( Chapter 6 )

Sunlight streamed through the windows over the bed. She awoke to the warmth on her face. Sitting up in bed slowly, Jane brought a hand to her throat, which was on fire. Stuff like that only happened when she tried to speak again, but she didn't remember doing any such thing.

 

Then it all came back. The nightmare, Dee and Ryo desperately trying to calm her, and then, finally, blessed darkness. Her head dropped to her chest in defeat. It had been so long since she dreamt of him that she had begun to feel complacent. Jane looked at the clock on the nightstand, which read 12:30 in the afternoon. She swung herself out of bed, intent on righting the wrong she had done Dee and Ryo.

 

*

 

Ryo shifted, snuggling further into the warmth of the bed. He was in a state of half awareness, and slowly noticed that the bed was not as soft as he remembered it. A light snore above him drew his attention upwards.

 

Bolting backwards and almost throwing himself off the bed, Ryo, in shocked horror, realized that he had been burrowing into Dee. Or rather, Dee's lap.

 

Dee was propped up by pillows against the wall, head hanging to one side with his black hair falling into his face. Ryo thought he looked sort of cute that way.

 

Smacking himself lightly on the cheek, Ryo shook Dee awake.

 

Dee snorted. “Wha'?”

 

“Come on Dee, get up. I want to check on Jane.”

 

Dee grumbled a little bit, but dragged himself out of bed. “What's that smell?”

 

“What sme—oh! Bacon?”

 

The two men looked at each other for a moment before heading to the open bedroom door. Reaching it at the same time, they struggled against each other comically before Ryo finally pushed past and made his way to the kitchen.

 

Jane had made breakfast and was standing in front of the stove with a spatula in her hand. Two plates with bacon, eggs, and sausage were already on the table. There was a pile of toast in the center, along with a carton of milk, some orange juice, and coffee. Jane turned, and upon seeing Dee and Ryo staring at her, she smiled brightly. The frying pan she held contained hash browns, which she split between the two plates.

 

“Jane, what the hell?” Dee asked, but sat down and inhaled a piece of bacon in seconds.

 

Ryo followed Dee to the table, watching Jane warily. “Jane, we need to talk,” he said, and winced at his word choice.

 

The smile left Jane's face and she nodded solemnly. She motioned to the table, indicating they should eat first.

 

“What about you?” Ryo asked.

 

She shook her head and pointed to a box of cereal behind her.

 

“You didn't have to do this for us, Jane,” Dee said around a mouthful of egg.

 

Jane nodded vehemently.

 

*

 

After breakfast was eaten and the dishes cleared away, the three of them sat in the living room, Dee and Ryo on the couch and Jane in a chair across from them. It was too much like an interrogation for Ryo's liking, but they had to sit somewhere. Jane had a pencil and a pad of paper with her, which surprised both men, considering she had shown no interest in that form of communication except for the incident with Rose.

 

“Where to begin?” Dee asked.

 

Jane's mouth quirked.

 

“I know, the beginning, right?” Dee said and rolled his eyes. “Smart ass.”

 

“You spoke last night, Jane,” Ryo said softly. “'Someone kill me' is what we heard. Is that true? Do you want to die?”

 

Jane hung her head, but shook it. She made a vague motion behind her.

 

“Back? Before you came to us, or before that even?”

 

She held up two fingers and pointed to the second one.

 

“Before that. Where did you come from?” Ryo asked.

 

“Shouldn't we stick to `yes' or `no' questions?” Dee said.

 

“I want her to write. She's already shown she can.”

 

“Not very well. You saw how sloppy that was.”

 

Jane was waving to get their attention. When they looked at her, she was holding up the pad of paper. It said “Kalleeforneeya” in big blocky script, like a child's handwriting.

 

“You're from California? How the hell did you make it out here without being able to talk?” Dee asked incredulously.

 

Jane smiled a little and held up her thumb.

 

“You hitch hiked. From California. To New York. Impressive. Were the people helpful?” Dee spoke again.

 

Jane tilted her hand back and forth.

 

“Were you hurt?” Ryo asked quietly. There was no way she made it here without someone trying to assault her.

 

She nodded, but upon seeing the horrified look on Ryo's face, she quickly scribbled “no sex” on the paper.

 

“When did you leave California?” Ryo asked.

 

She shrugged.

 

“How old were you when you left?”

 

Jane held up ten fingers, then eight.

 

“Eighteen. How old are you now?” Dee asked.

 

Jane frowned, and then flashed ten, ten, and six.

 

“Can you tell us your real name? We might be able to contact your family so you can go home,” Ryo said. Finally some progress. But his hopes quickly shattered when he saw Jane shudder in complete fear. She shrank back into the chair.

 

Dee got up and went to her. He placed a hand lightly on her knee. “What happened to you?”

 

Her eyes squeezed tight. Dee thought he'd lost her when her eyes snapped back open and she began writing furiously on the paper.

 

I wuz 8. momma owd sum peepel. She had a problum with the wit powder. She gav me to them az pament. I livd with a man hoo yoosd me az a slav. I kookd, kleend, and plezerd him. No wun kayrd. I wuzint allowd to speek or mak noyz. Wen I becaym 18, he didint want me ennymor. The polees wer after him to. He yoosd me wun last tim and then lit the hous on fiyer. I jumpt out the therd floor windo and hit mi hed. I remember nuthin till waking up in the hospittle. Wen I wuz well, I left. No familee or frendz. No ejucashun. No hop till I met yoo. Thank yoo.

 

Dee and Ryo read over the note three times before looking back at Jane. Ryo was openly crying and Dee looked like he was ready to kill someone.

 

“You don't know your real name, do you?” Dee asked, his voice low with emotion.

 

Jane was silent, of course, but both men watched her mouth open and the muscles in her throat quiver.

 

“I…ca…can't…rem…remem…berR 30;” she forced out in a small voice.

 

 

DarkHorse: you guys have no idea how hard it is the purposely misspell words. Especially since MSWord doesn't allow it. I wanted to mention this last time I updated, but I forgot. A while ago, I was watching an “ER” rerun. This particular episode involved a rape victim that was unable to speak. The details were different than what I've got here, but I just thought it was weird to see my basic idea on TV. This story was started about a year before the episode aired. Creepy.