I didn't realise I didn't actually have any intention to go and meet this girl until I got the opportunity to do it.

Now there was no getting out of it, Detective Martins had led me through the double doors and past a line-up of intensive care patients to a door at the end of the corridor. We paused outside but I couldn't look up to see why, I was too busy pissing myself. Detective Martins was putting us both on the line, he was putting his career on the line.

But why? He told me it was because he really wants to help this girl but that's a bit obvious. It's his job. He told me her fast recovery had freaked out both himself and the doctors but surely that's no reason to break the rules? It was a bit hard to believe he was risking all of this because some angsty teenage girl refused to talk to him. He mustn't have kids or else he'd be used to it. In fact he must've never been around girls. I mean, I have zero experience with girls but even I know what they can be like.

I was about to lose my nerve, my feet were stuck to the floor. I wanted to run but the detective flew the door open and pushed me inside before I had the nerve to.

Ten feet away from me was the corpse from my tree house. Except she wasn't a corpse. I wasn't even sure she was the same girl. But it had to be because, well, that's why I'm here.

Have you ever been afraid to get on a roller coaster? You over-anticipate it, have a panic attack over it, grapple between getting on and running away but you end up finally doing it and it ends up as either the best experience of your life or you've built it up too much and it's a huge disappointment?

This was not one of those times. I wanted it to be, but it wasn't. If anything my fears were vindicated. Every last hair on my body was standing to attention like a soldier called by his commanding officer.

I was stuck staring at the back of her black hair with my mind agonising over a thousand thoughts, none of them helpful. Mainly about how different she looks under all the dirt and blood. All of my thoughts were focused on her appearance and how... human it was, and it suddenly occurred to me that no one had really been talking about her like she was real. She wasn't a person to us, she was an object or a scary story and because of that being in her presence was like standing in a graveyard.

Detective Martins shoulders were squared up, swallowing his neck but I couldn't blame him for being tense. I was too, and it was pinning me to the wall. I moved my eyes back to the dead girl and found her scrutinising me.

Her golden gaze had caught me again and I couldn't move, couldn't look away even out of politeness. She didn't bother looking away either, she kept me locked there with her. Unblinking. Her eyes almost glowing.

Does she recognise me? Right now, she was the only one in the room who didn't look suspicious of anyone. She looked... knowing. A bit apprehensive. She wasn't suspicious she was analytical.

And a bit playful.

She stood there, her face faintly scratched up, purple discolouring under eyes like she hadn't slept in years. Her skin was no longer a pale grey, instead it was olive toned. She looked skinny and buried under sky blue hospital jammies.

But she was standing completely unbothered, glancing between the two of us as if we were the crazy ones.

"I take it you're not supposed to be in here? Hm?" Panic turned the tips of my ears pink. Would she report us? How does she know we're not supposed to be here? As concerned as I was I couldn't stop staring at her, I couldn't believe she was the same person! Her face had faint, almost entirely healed, scratches. She was standing up and walking around like- well- like I was. Her voice wasn't shaky and traumatised or coarse from pain it was strong. "The doctors said I'm not supposed to have visitors right now."

"I'm here on behalf of the police, the doctors have to adhere to that. I promise we won't be a burden and we'll be gone as soon as we can be." So the doctors don't even want us here? Seems like something we should've respected... "Also, this is Charlie." Detective Martins gestured towards me, but his eyes didn't move from the girl. Her's moved from him though, to me. "He's here to help me today."

The edges of her lips turned up and her eyes narrowed, it was uncomfortably panther like with the gold irises and long , black hair. "Didn't think so." Her reply was so sly, almost amused. She had me stunned. Normally, I'd be thrilled to catch a girl's attention (I'd probably still freeze up but that's not the point) but now I just felt like a pawn in a game between these two. You could almost see the air waver with the tension. She finally released me from her gaze and walked towards the end of the bed before plopping down. "So what can I do for you this time?"

Detective Martins looked at me. "I'm just trying to get some answers so I can keep everyone safe."

"Why? How do I affect people's safety?" She really did act like a normal teenage girl. She was unapologetic and hostile which Detective Martins clearly wasn't in the mood for.

"You don't, of course. No one is here to treat you like a criminal." Her eyes blazed with such fire the gold seemed to turn red. Her mouth sealed itself tightly but from a distance you wouldn't of noticed anything. In fact, glancing at Detective Martins I'm not even sure he saw it. "We just want to help. We want you to be safe and happy but we need some information to achieve that."

"Am I not safe here?" The detective looked like he wanted to roll his eyes at that," Look, I told you I don't remember anything. I told the other woman too. I don't remember my family, I don't remember anything."

"Yes, and we told you the doctors said there's no medical reason for your amnesia which makes us a little suspic-"

"I thought I wasn't going to be treated like a criminal?" She doesn't snap at him, she's calm, collected almost prepared and I see why this frustrates him. Her attitude gives her away, she's hiding something.

"You know you aren't. You know you've nothing to fear from us."

The silence hangs in the air and turns stale. The girl doesn't look at any of us. She claws her nails, which I notice still have dirt under them, into her legs and glares at the floor. She looks terrifying and terrified at the same time. Small and huddled and alone but also determined and angry. I felt like I was acting bomb squad and she was about to detonate.

I forgot the whole reason I was here in the first place. Whatever it was, it was stupid and clearly unimportant.

"Why don't we talk about something different today, huh? Something you do remember?" The detectives' words fall on dead ears, she doesn't even look up from the ground. "I forgot to introduce you two properly! How about we start there?" He waits for her approval, it doesn't come. "I told you that this is Charlie, I forgot to mention to Charlie that you're name is Ivy." He forces a laugh that makes Ivy and I cringe.

No longer dead girl, corpse or 'Jane Doe'. It was one question answered, I suppose.

Ivy. No last name. No trace of who she was or who she might've been. But it was a name, an identity, she wasn't a ghost or a scary story to me anymore. She was undeniably a miracle and unnervingly strange but she was human and I wasn't afraid of her anymore. She was a teenage girl, maybe closer to my age than I'd originally thought, and she still needed help. I came here to stop the nightmares, to forget her and move on. I think I succeeded in the first goal but I knew the second wouldn't be so easy.

"Hello." I mutter and itch my lip with my teeth, which probably looks horrible. My hand instinctively gives a small wave, fingers bunched into my sleeve so it's more of a fist shaking side to side than a wave. She watches the pathetic attempt and clearly notes it's terribleness.

"Do you remember Charlie?" Detective Martins asks Ivy. She looks back into my eyes and I'm trapped there again. The look she gives me is uncertainty but I'm sure she should remember.

She pauses. "Yes."

She remembers me.

She remembers me!

"Okay good! That's progress." I want to push the Detective out of the room for ruining the moment. No wonder he needed help. "So you remember the night you got to the hospital then?"

Ivy shakes her head and turns her gaze back to the floor. "Not really. I just remember waking up in the tree house and hearing someone talking to me. I assume that was you." She doesn't look at me but I nod anyway.

I bit down on my lip again, a bad habit I developed as a kid for anytime I was frustrated. In the beginning that was just when my parents were fighting. Then that was worsened by Ewan and now these last two days- well, I'm surprised I haven't chewed it off yet.

The uncomfortable silence is sliced by the sound of an alarm. Before I can look for the source Ivy's gaze lands on me and I'm trapped again but this time not from her intense gaze, but from the emotion swimming in her eyes. Fear.

"Woops, sorry. I should've turned that off." The detective jumps up and searches his pockets for his ringing phone. I can see him out of the corner of my eye but I keep Ivy's gaze, trying to reassure her with a look. Her lips are pursed like she wants to say something but can't find the words.

"Oh... damn. I gotta take this." The detective rushes towards the door and is out in a flash, closing me in a room alone with Ivy. He didn't even stop to explain or to tell us when he'd be back. He's breaking a lot of rules...

I was alone with Ivy. I could ask her all the questions I'd been rehearsing in my head since last night and yet I was still standing ten feet away shuffling my feet like a lost schoolboy.

"You're not supposed to be here are you?" She didn't seem annoyed, just defeated. I shrugged.

"He told you-"

"I don't mean him. I mean you. You're not supposed to be here." She picked at the dirt in her nails as she told me this. She was right and we were dumb for thinking she wouldn't know that.

"I don't think so, no." I was screaming at myself to talk to her. There was one question that kept bubbling up my throat and my brain was begging me to just ask, I couldn't stop myself. "So you remember-"

"No." She cut me off sharply and heat boiled in my cheeks, I could feel myself turn red, my muscles ached with the tension. "I don't remember anything. I don't know how I ended up in your tree house either if that's what you were going to ask."

I forced a smile and some semblance of a laugh and tried to relax, edging further into the room, "No, of course not. You lost a lot of blood and you were clearly injured. I understand." I did but I was here now and the need to know was burning in me. "But you remember something!?" I was stepping closer now, my answers just out of reach. "You remember the tree house?"

"Yes!" Her eyes blazed up at me but it didn't faze me, she was talking. "I remember being in a lot of damn pain! And I remember you not making it much better!"

Her words stop me, it stung to hear her say that. She didn't know what I was doing I suppose, just like I don't know what I'm doing here now. It seems I'm just making everything worse. I sagged into the armchair Detective Martins had been in and stopped bothering her with questions. What was I playing at anyhow? Her life shouldn't be a game of detectives to me anyway. "Oh." She'd defeated me with a sentence, I guess I could see why the detective was frustrated. "Sorry about that."

It was a silent for a moment and I didn't expect her to answer me. But she did, "Thank you, though. Thank you, for... saving my life" I flicked my eyes up but my chin was still tucked into my chest. She was looking at me, still analysing me, but she was sitting a little closer and seemed a bit more relaxed around me so I smiled. "I know you didn't have to. I know this whole thing must be... well, a bitch. But I just don't have any answers for you. Or him."

It was a fair response and she didn't seem disingenuous but I just couldn't understand her reasoning, "You don't have to give me any answers, I'm just confused."

I couldn't talk to my mum, I couldn't explain it well to Niamh and to the detective it was all about the facts. But if there was one person I could maybe talk to about what happened, it was her. "I've just never been in that situation before. I've never felt so useless! I thought I was pretty smart and I thought that was all I'd need in life but-" I sighed, "I guess I'm a pretty shit survivalist." She smiled a bit which made me feel a little lighter. "I'm sorry I was so shit at helping at you by the way. Believe me, I tried my best. But you were covered in blood and, well, I guess I felt scared." I couldn't stop myself from laughing a bit, "I'm still a bit scared of you." To my surprise she laughed a bit too, it was more of a gust of air blown between the teeth of her smile but it was still something. I let the moment hang before I spoke again. "If I'm being honest I don't know what I'm doing here. I couldn't sleep, I was feeling angry and... ignored." I was telling her things I hadn't even realised myself, "I had a stupid thought that if I could just talk to you and figure out what happened that life would go back to normal. I wanted to keep on helping you but I guess you don't need it." I saw she was listening so I looked directly into her eyes, "I don't know what you need and I shouldn't of assumed I did. I'm just worried for you. I want to make sure you're okay, probably for selfish reasons, but... there it is."

I have an awful way of just releasing tons of information onto people sometimes.

I didn't realise we'd been leaning towards each other until she leaned away. She was wary of me, she was probably wary of everyone- for good reason. Maybe that's why she didn't want anyone near her, including family, because she was afraid. I just hoped she heard me. I stared at the doorway in the slightly more comfortable silence, expecting Detective Martins to be back at any moment.

"Charlie, is it?" I spun around eagerly, surprised she broke the silence. I hadn't expected her to speak to me unless she had to. As soon as I looked at her I saw that there was a question burning in her. "Do you know anyone by the name of Katie Milner?" I didn't. So my brief glimmer of hope quickly faded, but to her I just shrugged. She was looking at me now, screwing up her nose. "I think she might live somewhere near here. I'm not really sure though, or at least she used to, she's around our age just a little older."

I bit my lip and thought about it for a second. I definitely did not personally know a Katie Milner but Plymouth was a small city surrounded by smaller villages, it shouldn't be too hard to find her on the internet or maybe even in the yellow pages- I think those still exist. If she was native around here I might even know someone who knows her.

"I don't know anyone by that name, at least I don't think I do. But I can have a look around if you'd like?" She didn't answer and just looked away from me to the armchair, but I was desperate to help her and she'd finally thrown me a bone. "I won't tell the detective." She looked back to me and I smiled, trying to build some level of trust, I hunched my shoulders up, stiffly managing a casual shrug. "I haven't told him a lot of things."

She smiled but it was tired. She nodded and I accepted that.

I wasn't ignorant enough to believe she trusted me, she wasn't a good liar but she had a determination which made getting the truth out of her no easier. She stood up and opened her mouth but just as she made a sound I heard the door creak open from behind me. Detective Martins didn't bother coming back into the room, he just held the door open wider and shrugged his head, gesturing for me to leave. "Detective Foster will be taking over from me, I've to get Charlie here back to the station to finish off his statement. Will you be alright until she gets here?" I looked back to where Ivy had been sitting but she'd moved to the armchair now and was holding the remote for the television, not paying attention to us at all. "I'll take that as a yes."

She looked at me and smiled as if we were just two schoolkids passing notes in detention. I wish we were, I wish it was that simple. But she had made me feel a lot better so I smiled back at her and briskly left, walking with a lot more confidence than when I'd walked in. She didn't seem like she'd return any goodbyes and I didn't want to say 'see you later' in front of the detective. I planned on keeping my promise that I wouldn't tell him anything. Of course he had to ask though.

I felt that now familiar pressure of some authoritative old guy pulling me back and braved myself for his questions. He eyed me but I dodged his gaze and watched the other police officer walk back through the double doors. It tensed me to see him and I worried the other policeman would stop and wonder what we were doing, but he didn't so much as glance."I take it you didn't have much luck with her either?"

I didn't like how he was looking at me, the way he squinted down condescendingly reminded me of Ewan or my dad or the twats at my school, but for Ivy's benefit and my own I kept a straight face. It wasn't hard to continue acting awkward and disengaged with what was happening, it was kind of my natural state of being at this point. "I think she's afraid and that's why she won't talk to you. I did try and ask why she didn't want your help but she just seemed angry and upset. I dunno, maybe there's a reason she doesn't want the family around."

I knew I'd have to keep the detective placid if I wanted him to stop asking questions and I thought leading him in the right direction without giving out too many details would be somewhat helpful to both him and Ivy. He seemed to think on what I told him as he stopped staring at me and just kept walking. He muttered to himself something about, "Yeah, well can't be helped unless she bloody talks," but I didn't really listen, I only perked up to make sure he wasn't making any accusatory statements.

We made our way out of the ICU ward and to the lift whilst Detective Martins explained that whilst the other detective continued questioning Ivy he was going to handle the paperwork for a while. I wasn't really listening as I was more focused on what the hell I was going to do in the police station and how the hell I was going to get home? My hand instinctively slapped down on my blazer pocket and then again on the inside pocket, I bit down on my tongue to repress a groan. I'd left my bloody phone in that tree house for God-sake!

"Martins!" The detective and I both snapped our heads to look down the end of the corridor where the other police officer was jogging up to us. "Martins come with me!" He was yelling at the detective but the detective was looking just as confused as me.

"What is it?" The police officer finally reached us and doubled over breathless. It seemed strange that he ran all the way over rather than just calling the detective? Or-

"The girl... she's gone! She's-"

What? Wait- who was gone? They couldn't really mean what I thought they meant!?

He never finished his sentence, I didn't get to hear what he meant before they both flew off down the corridor. I was lost in a flurry of confusing thoughts and conflicting emotions, desperate to find out who was gone. In the sea of impossible things Ivy had managed to achieve, escaping the hospital was like something out of a comic book! Sure, we were on a ground floor but why would she escape? She'd asked the detective, 'aren't I safe here?' I thought that meant she was afraid to leave and if she had left where was she going? The elevator dinged behind me and it should've brought me back to reality, hell, it should've brought me upstairs to where the exit was. But I didn't let it, I pelted back down the corridor, landing right outside the double doors just as Detective Martins stamped outside them.

I didn't think he'd noticed me until he swung on his heel and glared right at me.

Was I in trouble?

I'd wanted to believe someone else had escaped from the ICU or maybe it had all been a big joke we could all laugh off, I couldn't handle anymore mystery surrounding this girl, anymore bloody problems. But the look on the detective's face told me this wasn't a joke and it wasn't some other random hospital escapee. It was Ivy, she was gone.