At some point in time my fear had left me, and it had left me enough, so that I was almost in a fit of laughter when Keith had extended this knowledge of Oliver being my 'boyfriend.'

"I have to tell you," I said within my fits of giggles, "that I've been debating if I'm dreaming for a while now, and you've just confirmed my answer."

"You're... awake?" Keith questioned.

"Of course not." I suspended the laughter.

"Why do you say that?" He asked.

"He's a boy." I started. Keith's shook his head the slightest bit to indicate a question: what did that have to do with it? "He's you-know." Keith raised an eyebrow slowly. "He's good-looking."
Slowly a smile grew across Keith's face, and he looked almost menacing. 

"Good looking?" Keith asked.

I held up my thumb and index figure and showed a very small gap between them both. "Just a little bit." I squeaked. 

"Well," Keith nodded, "You should know he is popular at school."

Another round of applause from my mouth. "Remember how earlier, I said you and he were crazy, I'm bringing that story back to life. It doesn't make sense. Weird," I gestured toward myself, "and popular," I pointed to the door, "don't get along."

"That, is a pretty stereotypical view," Keith pointed out, finally taking a seat again, and placing his palms on his knees. 

"That doesn't matter. I know for sure that is not the case. We are not lovebugs."

"Lovebugs," Keith mused. He rolled his eyes at me. So casually too. Like he knew me. Like we had plenty of conversations like this before. "Deny it if you like, but I'm not lying," He then added. 

"You must be." I said.

"Why would I lie about this?"

"First off, you've done some questionable things today, like kidnap me, tell me you know me, tell me I know you but have somehow acquired amnesia, so three years of my life are gone. So I wouldn't take lying off your list."

"Okay." Keith said, and went quiet.

"I'm just not the kind of person boys are into."

"Why's that?" Keith asked.

"My favourite colour is brown."

"Oh yeah. Touché," he said, and then after a moment started laughing. More casual laughter. Then it died down. He sat beside the bed, and started to look awkward about it. His finger tapped his leg. If his stories were true, what were these moments generally like? When I knew him? Would we often be stunted for conversation?

"I should get home," I announced, and then repeated "I want to go home." Keith nodded, and turned in his seat and looked toward a clock on the wall, it was in the shape of an oak tree, and sat ticking away near the kitchen entry.

"Yeah, of course. Just a few things first." He stood up and wandered over to the desk, and started pulling out the drawers.

I could hear him muttering strange things to himself. "Dwarf Oil... cockatrice feathers, dryad birch... damn it." He shoved the drawer closed and started on the next one, but all he was pulling out were papers. Behind the desk was a dark wooden cupboard, on decoration on top of it were multiple odd do-dads. A small bonsai tree, a head dress made from still blooming flowers, a mason jar full of dead bugs, and another sword, though this one had a magnetic red coating the blade. Keith was already in the cupboard pulling out more bits and pieces.

"What are you looking for?" I asked.

"Nixie dust," he said. "I can't remember where I put it."

"What do you need Nixie dust for?"

"It helps with bruising." He dug through the cupboard more. "Not just that though, it's got all sorts of healing properties." He stood up and shut the cupboards. "Oliver must have had it." Keith looked toward the door. "I'm just going to step out for a second and find him. I'll be right back," he said edging toward the door, before disappearing outside.

Then I was alone, alone inside a place I was unfamiliar with, and finally alone with my own thoughts. At first I gnawed on my hand, thinking. I was finally alone. This was my perfect time to escape from these lunatics. Their story did seem almost convincing, they hadn't tried to do anything too weird, and I wasn't being held down onto the bed against my will. But their story had to be a lie, of course it did. Mythical creatures. What were they thinking?

I slowly climbed out of the bed, wobbly on my feet for a few moments, my headache hadn't left just yet. I felt up my body for a moment, but I didn't bring anything with me, I left straight from an assembly in my school. But before I made my way for the exit, I climbed onto the couch, and peered outside the window suspended above it. Outside were plenty of trees. Was I somewhere in the bush? But from what I could see there was no sign of the two boys, just the afternoon sun shining dapple through the leaves of the trees. I left the couch and took a few unknown footsteps in the room, pacing from one direction to the other taking another, clearer look at my surroundings. On the desk, were several papers with notes, and drawings of creatures that I did in fact recognise. One of a phooka, and another of a unicorn. Next to the picture of the unicorn scribbled in neat handwriting stated several locations. I glided away from the desk to the one door that I didn't know was behind it, sure enough upon opening it, I found an old looking toilet, nudged up right against an old sink, the porcelain looked faded. I shut the door, finally quenching my curiosity and then moved onto the actual door that led to my escape. I fumbled with the knob, and carefully pulled the door open a smidgen, and looked out into the world. More trees. The van. No sign of the boys. I opened up the door slowly, tensing myself if I had to shut it quickly again if they decided to appear out of nowhere. But they didn't, and soon I had the door wide open, and was staring at a dirt road, that turned a bend that was widen by multiple gum trees.

I took a step out, and then carefully shut the door, trying to make as little noise as possible. Then I snuck past the big white van that had brought me here, and along the dirt path, surrounded by gum tree's, away from the small shack that I had been in.

There was no sign of Oliver or Keith as I walked along the path, although occasionally I did turn around to see if I could spot them; or if they had spot me leaving. But nothing. I would tense every now and then at unfamiliar noises, but it was just my nerves jumping at twigs and leaves crunching under my feet in weird ways. As I turned the slow bend of the dirt road, I found the real road. I glanced one more time at the shack, no sign of either boys, before it disappeared from my view behind the interrupting trees. I stepped onto the sidewalk and paused for a moment, looking along the quiet street. It seemed like an average street, full of houses, along both sides of the road. Not exactly a place where a dirt road should be, leading to a small shack among the outskirts of the bush; where two boys were, with an abducted girl.

I looked in both directions, until I could spot a bus stop far away in the distance. I trudged along, my hands constantly rubbing against my shirt and my arms and my waist, like I was trying to wipe something off.

It only occurred to me when I sat down at the bus stop that I was without my go-card, my travel card onto every bus; it was tucked inside of my phone case. I had no cash in my pockets either. I was going to have to beg the bus driver to let me have a lift. From there I couldn't tell. I had no idea in what part of the city I was, although with the bush behind me it felt like a little past the suburbs. What's more was the bus didn't' come that regularly, so it wasn't that populated of a suburb either. I pulled my feet up, hugged my legs against my chest as I sat on the seat waiting for the next bus.
I felt awful again, the pain relief had done almost nothing for my headache, and the tears in my eyes had worn me out, and made me sleepy. I could feel myself getting ready to cry more. What was I going to do if the bus driver wouldn't let me on the bus? I couldn't stay the night here. And what did mum think right now? Had the school rang and told her about the incident? With all these thoughts in my head, I could feel another round of tears cascade from my constantly dipping eyelids. I was terrified that the bus driver wouldn't let me on, and I would have to find an alternative way of getting home. I buried my head in my knees for a moment. I got myself in this situation. I'd have to get myself out.

"Are you okay?" a familiar voice asked, and sent the hair on the back of my neck to stand. My head bolted up to stare at Oliver, who stood at the bus shelter, looking at me, concerned.

"I'm fine," I whimpered, but I didn't drop my feet from the safe position I felt of hugging them. He didn't look convinced as he nodded. He approached slowly, like I was a wounded kangaroo, and then sat down on the bench beside me.

"I'm sorry." He said after maybe a minute of silence. He dropped his head into his hands, and it was silent again. But I didn't say anything I didn't have the heart to say anything. He pulled is face up again, and turned his head to look at me.
"Cate," he said, using my nickname. "I'm so sorry for what I've done. I'm so sorry your so upset right now, and it's all my fault. I should never have-" he gulped, "abducted you." He looked ashamed in himself again, and as if he was as much on the verge of crying as I was. "I didn't mean to drag you into this, I just had really thought you knew who I was, I mean you took my hand in your assembly, so I figured you must be normal." He waited, looking at me, probably waiting for me to say something back. I didn't know what to say though. He stared at the road in front of him and I followed his gaze.
"I really thought you were dead this whole time. For two weeks, I've been convinced that you were dead. And when you started acting weird outside the van, at your school; I couldn't explain it to myself,  but I also couldn't help myself. I had to take you and make sure you were okay."

"I wasn't," I but in.

"Yeah, and that's my fault," He acknowledged. "And now I've made you upset," he grunted, "It feels awful upsetting you."

"Yeah," I mumbled half-heartedly, not really agreeing, but just taking it all in.

"I'm sorry, also," he added, "for overacting earlier. I'm just stupid." He let out a broken chuckle, the kind you make when you're trying to cheer up yourself after you've cried for a while. "I'm stupid when it comes to you for sure."

"Yeah?" I repeated, but this time with an edge of curiosity.

"Do you- Would you want us to drop you home?" He asked. I didn't say anything. Debating in my head instead whether that was a good idea. Should I go with the boy that abducted me, and had been acting weird all afternoon; but just made a heartfelt and convincing apology, yet still having the slightest chance for him to turn on me whenever he could? Or to wait for a bus and hope that it went to a destination a little closer to home, once they said it was okay for me to jump on with no travel card?

"Maybe?" I said.

"Look, you don't have to walk back to the shack. I'll just ask Keith to drive here, and then take you home."

"Maybe," I repeated again.

"I can wait for an answer," he smiled at me. I was still debating in my head what to do, when a thought popped in my mind.

"Were you my boyfriend?" I asked.

"I suppose, I'm not anymore." He smiled with no teeth, puffing his cheeks out a bit as he did.

"Did something happen for us to break up?" I asked. "Is that a reason I'm like this? With no memories?"

"Huh?" He seemed confused for a few moments. "I uh, I don't, no?"

"I didn't tell you I was dumping you, and then you made me lose my memory so you could keep dating me?" I queried. Even the words in my head sounded ridiculous. Why would anyone want to date me in the first place?

Oliver laughed, "goodness no. You should be expecting more of a Romeo approach, in which I would write you really shit poetry and give you flowers if you wanted to break up with me." I giggle came out of my mouth, and I paused myself quickly and scolded myself for breaking my sad mope.

"That was nice," Oliver sighed. "I missed that laugh."

"Alright," I announced. "You can take me home, please. But Keith has to drive and pick me up here." I didn't want anything to do with walking back to that weird old shack. 

"Of course, m'lady," Oliver pulled out his phone and immediately had it against his ear. "Hey, Keith. Yeah, she's okay. Yeah, I apologised. Yeah, she's at the bus stop. Yeah, I told her," Oliver rolled his eyes with a smile as he talked. "Yeah, she wants to go home. Can you come and pick us up so we can drop her home? Okay, see you in a minute."

----

Sure enough, a white van had emerged from the dirt road, and rolled down the street and parked at the bus stop. Oliver opened up the door to the front seat, and waited until I was seated inside before shutting it closed and climbing into the back. Keith was in the driver's seat and he gave a calm smile.

"Hello," he said, shifting the van's gears, so it slowly rolled back onto the road. 

"Hi," I said quietly, bundling myself up onto the seat.

"Are you okay?" He asked.

"I think so," I gulped. He didn't say much after that. It was quite a difference to them both talking all afternoon. It was a quiet drive back home, and sure enough they held their word, they delivered me back home. Oliver helped me out of the front seat and stopped, as I stood outside my house.

"I'm sorry about everything," he apologised. He hesitated, his arms moved out toward a hug, but he held himself back. "Please message me soon. And Keith, Keith would also like you to message him." I was about to nod and walk up to the house, when he said, "this isn't a dream by the way. I know your probably thinking that. But I'm real, and Keith is real, and all of this is real."

"I still don't think I can tell," I admitted.

"Yeah, I figured," He nodded, "but I hope I can see you again soon," He blushed. "I've missed you so much." Then before he did anything else, he stepped into the front seat of the van. I walked up to the front door of my house and then watched as the van drove away, Oliver's face peering out of the window toward me, waving goodbye.