When Death is Crowned: Who's Tracy?

The mountains of Sweden were one of the most beautiful sights to see after waking up on clear day. She looked out the massive window from her king size bed. She looked around her room. White. White everything. She had no idea where she was. Or what she was doing. She had no idea of anything. She tried digging into her memory, but she only saw a woman running. That’s all she could remember. She didn’t even remember who the woman was?

She thought long and hard about that and came to the only logical conclusion. She had gone into a coma last night and forgotten everything in her past. Great. This was just wonderful. For all she knew there is some crisis and she can’t help at all with it. For all she knew World War 3 could be starting up. And she was the key to winning it. But that’s likely not the case.

She probably just lost everything in her memory. She probably was in her vacation home in the Smoky Mountains, and her husband was about to walk in the room with a warm cup of coffee to wake her up. Coffee. She let out a long sigh as she let the thought seep deep into her mind. Whatever happened to her, she knew that she needed coffee.

She threw her covers off, got out, and realized. She has nothing but a nightgown on. And ye arctic lies ahead.  She shuddered as her feet touched the ground. Apparently her teeth clattered a bit, cause when she turned her head, there was a man standing there, tall, pale, and bald. He was holding a hot cup of coffee, for her, she presumed.

He spoke in a low, rumbling voice “My name is Aton Bowden, I’m aware you might be confused. So I came to let you know that Breakfast is down the hall and there is freshly brewed coffee. They made it especially for you”

She wondered if he knew how confused she was. She figured she would ask. “W-w-wait, l-l-let me get t-t-t-this…completely c-c-clear…” She took a break. She was stuttering? Has she always been this stupid? “…You didn’t b-bring that coffee ffffor me?”

Aton chuckled. Comforting. And then he spoke in a mocking tone “First of all, this is not for you. Second of all, this is Hot Chocolate. I don’t like coffee”.

She was in awe. “Okay. I need some time to gather myself. I’ll be out in a few hours. I mean…sorry…minutes.”

He nodded, took a sip of his imposter coffee, spun; and left the room with a slow close of the door. She sighed. There is no way I’m married to him. He doesn’t seem of the rich and famous personality. He looks too poor.

She walked toward the desk with a plastic green apple on it, the only thing of color in the room. She tried to think, “who am I? Where am I? Who is “Aton Bowden” and where did he come from? He sounds Mexican, or German…”

Her world began to spin, in a daze she fell toward the giant window, overlooking the mountains. When she put her hands to catch herself, the window shattered into thousands of pieces. She saw in the spin that Aton was running for her. But it was too late. She was falling into an empty void.

Her eyes started watering. Is this how she was going to die? Is this the end? She just woke up and couldn’t even remember who she is, and this is when she dies? Maybe. Maybe not. Who knows really? Unless Aton happens to be a master martial artist, then she really doesn’t stand a chance against fifty-thousand feet to who knows what.