The images pulsated through Delilah's head as it was wiped clean. Memories of a life gone by dripped away from her like sand through a timer. There wasn't much of her original self-remaining now. Only the echoes remained, only the footprints. The final marks flashed through her mind once more before they were etched away. She saw the hospital bed, the green pen, the coffee mug, the new laptop, the empty money jar, the hockey stick, the broken syringe, the blood-stained knife, the darker than night pebble, the battered clipboard and that cursed yellow capsule.

It's funny to think how little that list means to anyone other than Delilah. Maybe you think its like an episode of the Generation Game, that TV show from decades ago where you'd have to memorise a series of random items as they hurtled along a conveyor belt. To any stranger it seems trivial. Some people in her life may recognise some of those memories, perhaps a handful of the details but the only person who knew that list to its full extent was Delilah herself.

At least she did until 5 seconds ago when the wipe was completed. Delilah lay asleep on the bed, her mind hollowed out, her life not lived. The 24-year-old woman had no recollection of her former existence. Twenty-four special years wiped out with one simple injection. Her memories were erased; her identity was lost. Did it really matter? That life was over now. Her new existence started today.

***

"Back with us" jested a man's voice. To Delilah he sounded very burly, his pitch low, his laughs heavy. Delilah kept her eyes closed; she hated being woken up, or at least she thought she did. She wasn't quite sure what she hated anymore. She turned over on to her side, the bed she was lying on felt very comfy and it felt like sleep was just waiting to grab her and take her away again.

"Don't pretend to be asleep, we're monitoring your vital signs." Jibed a man with a higher pitched voice, his voice slightly nasal as if he was speaking through a snorkel. Why were there even two men in her room anyway? Well, there was one possible explanation but the idea that she'd spent the night with nasal man was so abhorrent that she buried it in an instant. Delilah lay still and her eyes remained shut. "Still, keeping up the pretence ay! I've got it on a screen right in front of me sunshine. You've just exited a stage of REM sleep, so wakey wakey!" Delilah didn't know much at this moment, but she knew one thing for sure. This second man was certainly not of the burly type. She rolled over on to her back and slowly forced her eyes open. As she opened her eyes slightly, she felt a momentary searing hot pain on the right side of her head. Then the very first thing Delilah saw since her memory had been wiped, the very first sight of her new existence was... a white ceiling. Mesmerising!

"That wasn't too difficult now, was it?" snarled the nasal man. Delilah recognised he probably had a name but given that she couldn't even recall her own right now, she was going to call him nasal man. Delilah didn't know why she couldn't remember anything about herself. Well, maybe it was because she had only just woken up. Yeh that sounded about right to her, her brain hadn't had the time to properly start up just yet. Give it a minute and a strong cup of coffee and she'd be ready to go. Delilah glanced around the room, and nothing looked familiar. In this case having her memories back wouldn't have helped.

Whoever owned this place, it looked quite homely. The room basked in a bright natural light emanating from the window behind her bed. A fresh floral scent hung in the air due to the tulips sitting in a vase on the bedside table. The sky-blue walls gave it a very serene feel. There was a small dark blue sofa off to one side with a glass coffee table in front. On the other side there was a chest of drawers next to a large blue wardrobe. She saw two doors opposite her. One, a white wooden one, was slightly ajar and Delilah could just make out a sink, clearly some sort of bathroom. The other was cast iron and there was no peeking around the corner with that one given that it was tightly shut. The iron door was painted a dark blue but some of the paint had started falling away revealing the rust beneath.

"There was a bit too much blue in this room," Delilah thought to herself. "Maybe the room's owner felt sad. Blue meant sad right? Oh great..." Delilah rolled her eyes. She couldn't even remember her own fricking name but that was alright because she now knew that blue meant sad! Incidentally, the room was just blue because the institution had a basic colour coded layout and that corridor happened to be blue but that seems a little tangential here. Yeah, let's just go with that Delilah, the room was blue because it was sad.

Delilah's eyes finally came to meet the two men standing beside the bed. Both were dressed plainly in white trousers and white shirts. They both wore dark brown leather shoes but the similarities between them stopped after their fashion sense. The one on the left was large and muscular with an air of importance looking like he spent his days stopping the president from being shot. Not that she needed protection, you'd be a fool to go near the White House. The one on the right was short and rather weedy looking but Delilah did take mental note of the large cut tearing down his right cheek. This must have been the nasal man. He probably thought the cut made him look intimidating. Delilah thought he must have had trouble shaving. Much to Delilah's irritance, it was him who spoke next.

"Very good Mrs Cherie...or do you prefer Delilah?" Delilah? Was that her? The name did ring a bell to her but surely if it was her actual name, it would ring a whole bloody orchestra. She had a distaste for the name Delilah anyway; it sounded like something out of a nursery rhyme. Don't even get her started on Cherie, her surname was nearly a fruit. Oh hooray, she'd remembered both cherries and nursery rhymes existed, useful stuff there. Besides the way nasal man pronounced it made it sound like Mrs Cheery and when you've just woken up and had your memory wiped, being called cheery is rather infuriating!

"Actually, I go by Del." She insisted. Delilah, well Del now actually was surprised by both what she said and how she said it. It seemed like the words rolled off her tongue without any thought. Furthermore, her voice was an octave lower than she expected and her tone blunter. Still, maybe that could be attributed to her tiredness. She really needed that coffee. Why hadn't anything come back to her yet? Something was wrong here. She tried to think but another bolt of pain fired through her forehead.

"Del then. So how much do you remember?"

"Of what exactly?" The nasal man shrugged his shoulders while the other man just looked at Del, his eyebrows furrowed.

"Um..." the nasal man glanced to his fashion buddy before looking back at Del, "of yesterday for starters". Her previously buried idea came to the surface.

"Oh God tell me I didn't!" said Del, voicing her inner thoughts. The nasal man took a step forward towards Del, his leather boots squeaking as he trod on the black carpet below. He too had his eyebrows furrowed in thought. Everything this man did seemed to irritate her.

"Tell me you didn't what?" The confusion etched into the expressions of both men told Del that perhaps her initial idea was wrong. Well at least there were some positives to the situation.

"Never mind, um... where am I?" A grin surfaced on the short man's face revealing a set of stained yellow teeth, he looked up to the man behind him before starting to chuckle. The man's laugh was loud and every now and then he'd make a funny snorting sound. Del clenched her fists underneath the bedsheets. "What is it?" Del asked, feigning a tone of politeness.

"It's just we here that question so often. You took your time there. See, me and Burt play a little game to see how long it will take before people ask it."

"Maybe I should play a little game of how long it will take before you answer it."

"Oh, the girl has got sass, has she?" teased the nasal man as he stepped closer towards Del's bed. His yellow teeth standing out against his white clothes.

"Leave her alone," interjected the muscular man that Del presumed must be called Burt. Del preferred him. "Do you have any idea where you might be Del?"

"I'll give you a hint love, you're not in Majorca!"

"That's enough Tony. Unless you want another report filed against you?" Burt didn't need to shout to make his point. Tony (Del still preferred nasal man) took a few paces back and stayed silent like a naughty kid in class. "Go ahead Del, where do you think you are?" As she went to answer there was another moment of hot pain in her head.

"I was thinking maybe some sort of hospital."

Tony gave another twisted smile.

"Why do you think that?" Enquired Burt.

"Because of the sharp pains in your forehead," interrupted Tony before Del had a chance to say anything. "Burt I've already done this three times today; it's losing its magic now."

"Losing its magic? A bit like your toothpaste then." Del repressed a giggle at Burt's remark. Tony gave a quick scowl but held his tongue. "This is what we're paid to do Tony so this is what we're going to do. If you don't like that get a job at the canteen for a quarter of the pay. Okay Del, I'm just going to give you a few things and then we'll let you be. Here...", Burt grabbed something from on top the chest of drawers and handed it to her, "is a tablet. You'll find plenty of useful information on there and I dare say it'll be your most important possession while you stay with us here. Oh, and there's this," Burt pulled a small card from his pocket and gave it to Del, "this is your key card, you need it to get into your room, actually I'm fairly sure you know how a key card works." Burt gave a quick smile towards her which Del returned.

"Don't lose it," snarled Tony. "Right, are we done now Burt?" Burt gave a little nod. "Enjoy your stay my lady, may I recommend you don't try that sass with Anita because she'll bite back, and she'll bite back hard." Tony gave another obnoxious snort before walking away, opening the blue iron door and shutting it behind him. Del took a moment to appreciate the silence. Burt still stood in the room, looking at Del.

"You never answered my question Burt, is this a hospital?"

"In a manner of speaking."

"What does that mean?"

"Oh, it doesn't matter, yeh sure it's a hospital. Anyway, I'm not really supposed to but I'm here to give you these." Burt handed over a little bottle containing a set of small round pills. "Take one of them every couple of hours and that pain in your head will disappear in no time."

"Thank you. Are there many more like me here?"

"There's plenty of others with the pains, yes."
"Did you give them those pills too?

"Nah. Only you," The two of them shared a smile. Burt went to speak again but then stopped himself. He turned away and walked out of the door.