MJ

I woke up on a Monday morning. Wait, I think it was a Wednesday afternoon. I haven't been able to remember much since my accident. The only way I know that today marks five years since my near-death experience is that I wrote it down on my calendar and cross each day as I go, but I'm not even sure that today's date is right before checking my phone. The brightness of the picture I got in front of some flamingoes at the zoo some time ago is making my head throb more than it was from the hangover. My breath still smelling like my Jack Daniels concoction from last night, I trudge through the hallway to the bathroom where I look at myself for the first time that morning.

My hair is a tangled bun and I seem to have lost a press-on nail. As my clothes drop to the floor and the water is warming up, I notice a mark on my shoulder. "Almost resembles a bite mark," I said to my empty house. I can't get a good look in the mirror, so I use my phone to take a picture. After zooming in I realize it really does look like bite marks, but each tooth is a word so small that the words in the photo were almost too small to make out. 'Had fun last night. Let's do it again. MJ.' Instantly questions start racking my brain. I jump in the shower to let the warm water heat my body up as I try to remember last night. Did I have someone over? Was I at a club? Where was I last night?

My new tattoo didn't rub off in the shower. Sharpie, I thought. I start walking around my studio apartment looking for clues to fill in the events of last night. Nothing in or under the bed, front door is locked, no unusual trash in the trashcans. Then something is twinkling from underneath the dark oak bookcase I have in the corner by my bedroom window.

A wedding band with the initials 'MJ' is waiting for me with a note that says "I see you are trying to piece this puzzle together. Noon. You know the spot."

What spot?

After finding nothing else in my apartment, I get ready and go for a walk. If I follow my gut instinct, I'll be able to figure out where MJ is waiting for me. Fear instantly rises as I realize MJ knows what I look like and where I live, but I have absolutely nothing.

I stop and grab a bagel from the cart that's always parked outside my complex. As I'm eating I realize there is a pigeon keeping pace with me, so I leave a trail of bread crumbs like the two of us will find our way back home later. When I turn back to see if the pigeon is still following the trail, I catch a glimpse of a man in green across the street looking in my direction. As we make eye contact, he starts crossing the traffic-packed four lanes, and I don't know why, but I stay. Once he gets closer, I start observing his height (taller than me), the auburn hair that glows in the sun, and how tight his shirt is hugging his biceps.

The man in green gets closer and starts to open his mouth to say something, and a beeping sound comes out of his mouth. I jolt awake from what I thought was reality and slam my hand on my alarm clock. After rubbing my eyes, something catches my attention. It's shiny, small, and under my dark oak bookcase.

The initials 'MJ' are written on the wedding band, but there isn't a letter. Even though I don't have a note, I know the place to go. And I'll get there at noon.