Memories are a funny thing. People put a lot of weight into them. But they are inherently unreliable.

Memories can mislead you.

They can shape themselves into a distorted version of reality. Twisting facts. Warping conversations. Reconfiguring the way you spoke. Shifting the way someone looked at you. Memories bending and buckling themselves until your recollection of an event was so far from another that you were left wondering the truth. Doubting yourself. Doubting your own experience. Did you start the argument? Or did he? Did you pick up the gun first? Or did someone else get to it before you could?

"Please Madison. You don't understand. I can explain!"

"There's nothing to explain. I know what you're doing. I know what you did, Jason. I know."

"Well you know there's nothing you can do about it then. It's already done."

"You clearly don't know me at all. I'm not like my sisters. I don't like to play nice."

Memories can lie to you.

They are inherently biased. They shift and replace facts to hide the ugly parts. They conceal aspects of themselves to protect you, or trick you. They convince you that someone definitely looked at you strangely. They convince you that you heard footsteps behind you. They assure you that the shadow in the corner of your eye was someone waiting to strike. They confirm that you were protecting yourself. That you were acting in self defence. But what if you weren't?

"Don't do this. You don't want to hurt anybody."

"There isn't any other way. Not anymore."

"Please, don't pull that trigger. We both know you'll regret it the moment you do."

"Only one way to find out."

Sometimes memories can hide from you.

They don't disappear completely. But they try. They creep back into the shadows of your mind, the dark corners you don't notice. The memories fold in themselves, avoiding your gaze no matter how hard you try to lure them back out. They stay hidden, until you think they are gone for good. Until an entire part of your life is left a mystery. Were you even at the scene of the crime? If you weren't, then where were you?

"Where were you that day? You need to tell the truth, Maddy."

"I don't know. I don't remember."

"Well what do you remember from that day? Anything at all."

"I remember red."

"Red? Red what? Blood? Hair?"

"Just red."

But nothing can truely stay hidden forever.

At least that was what Madison Cooper told herself. As she found her way through the fog of her mind, as she stumbled through the woods that should have felt familiar but instead felt terrifyingly unknown, she knew one thing. She had to remember. She needed to remember. She needed to know what really happened.

She needed to know how her hands got so blood stained. And whose blood it was.

She needed her memories back.

A/N: Hey folks I'm here with my first Riverdale story because I cannot control myself! I'm really excited to share Madison's journey with you all and I hope this tiny teaser prologue gets you intrigued! I'll have another update of TMD up soon but in the meantime hopefully this will satisfy you all for now. Feel free to fave/follow to keep updated on the next chapter and any reviews are much appreciated! Also remember to check out my tumblr (fraysquake) for any Trigger/Madison edits and sneak peaks :) xo