Memories of Me

by Dani Hart

  Don't forget me.

  I was alone.

  I was scared.

  I was dead inside.

  "Are you okay, dear?"

  The owner of the house where my memory emerged stood on the other side of a white picket fence. She could have been my grandmother, with her red cheeks, fair skin, grey hair and compassionate face.

  "I'm sorry. I wasn't going to take them. They just reminded me of something," I said, letting go of the bush and standing up.

  "Me, too, honey. Before my husband died, he planted them. He said they would ensure I was never without him. So I would never forget him."

  "That's so sweet. They're beautiful. What a great way to remember someone."

  "He was a wonderful man. Do you live nearby?"

  "Oh, no. I'm just staying with a friend down the road for a little bit."

  She opened the gate and stepped outside. She was wearing an apron and pulled out a pair of pruning shears. She cut the bundle I was holding and gave it to me. "So you can remember, dear."

  She had no idea how profound her gesture was. "Thank you."

  I took the bundle from her and continued my walk back to Nichole's house. I walked straight to the kitchen, filled up a glass with water, and placed the flowers in it.

  "Hey. Almost ready to go?" Nichole asked.

  "As ready as I'll ever be."

  "Pretty flowers," she said as she picked up her car keys from the table.

  "Yeah, they are," I said, more to myself than her.

  Nichole drove with the windows down and the music blaring. I think she could tell I wasn't in the mood to talk. As we passed the little old lady's house, she waved. She was still pruning in the garden. Something she probably spent most of her days doing, now that the love of her life was gone. I smiled back.

  It took us a good twenty minutes to get to UCSD Thorton Hospital. We were on the coast, and it was inland, more in La Jolla. The building was massive and intimidating. Until now, I had been free of the hustle and bustle of crowds.

  "It's huge."

  "Beautiful, huh? It's my dream to work here one day. Preferably, under Dr. Caldwell."

  The familiar tightness in my stomach reared its ugly head. I tried to concentrate on my breathing so I didn't have another episode. It was one thing for Brandt to see me like that, but I didn't want to put that on Nichole.

  She definitely knew where she was going. The building we headed toward was just opposite the main entrance to the hospital, which was a huge relief. I didn't want to walk through the hallways of a hospital so soon after leaving one.

  "Her office is on the top floor. She has a killer view."

  I wasn't sure if she was telling me to make small talk, but my intuition told me it was because she truly admired Dr. Caldwell, which made me feel more at ease.

  "You've been really quiet. In fact, you haven't said a word since we left the house,” Nichole observed as we took the elevator up.

  "I'm just anxious."

  The doors opened, and I followed her to the far corner of the building. She opened the solid dark double doors and ushered me inside. There were different nooks for people to hide until it was their appointment time. The waiting area was pleasing and comfortable, not at all what I was expecting. I expected a row of chairs in a narrow hallway crowded with people concealing their ashamed faces behind a hat or a phone, waiting for their doctor to come out and turn off the infamous light switch next to seven others when it was finally their turn. I had no idea how I knew that, but I guess if I tried to kill myself, I probably had some experience with therapists.

  I sat next to Nichole who had picked up a magazine already. "How will she know we're here?"

  "She has a camera." Nichole pointed to the far corner of the room where a camera was placed.

  I twirled my hair nervously until the door opened. Dr. Paige Caldwell was not what I expected. I didn't really know what I expected, but she was stunning. Her blue eyes pierced me immediately. She was tall and voluptuous with thick blonde hair that dropped to her waist, and her smile dared you to not smile back.

  "You must be Freckles," she said cordially.

  "Yes, I guess so." I stood up.

  "Well, let's see if we can't fix that. Come on in. Will Nichole be joining us?"

  "It's fine with me." I bit at my lip.

  "Sit wherever you would like." Dr. Caldwell motioned inside the office.

  Nichole followed and Dr. Caldwell closed the door behind us, heading to the desk hidden in the corner and picked up a notebook.

  She was going to take notes. This was really happening. My nerves were getting the best of me as my eyes darted around the room looking for the safest place to sit.

  Nichole sat in one of the chairs by the desk, out of sight, and I chose to sit on the end of the couch with my back to Nichole. Dr. Caldwell sat on the chaise across from me.

  "Would you like a glass of water?"

  I shook my head. "I'm okay, thanks." I sat forward, nervously.

  "Nichole tells me you were diagnosed with dissociative amnesia by your treating doctor at the hospital?"

  "Yes."

  "So, why don't we start from the beginning?"

  I told her everything from the moment I woke up. I told her about the Reilly brothers and the three memories I remembered.

  "That's great. The last one you remembered today?"

  "Yeah, but it wasn't much. Just the cemetery and the flowers."

  "And how you felt," she added.

  "Yes."

  "There's no rhyme or reason to memory loss, and there's no magic pill to cure it. Most doctors will tell you it just takes time. I agree and disagree. Stress is a big factor in trauma, so much so that enough stress alone could cause someone to forget. The reason Dr. Surai and Nichole referred you to me is because I'm in the middle of a research grant involving amnesia patients. Your particular case is rare because most amnesiacs lose a chunk of time surrounding the trauma. In your case, you have forgotten everything with emotional attachment, which leads me to believe the event isn't the catalyst to your amnesia, especially knowing it was a suicide attempt. Something happened to you. Something painful and unimaginable that led you to believe death was the only option. The mind is a beautiful and mysterious thing. It's protecting you from whatever happened by erasing it, but with that you lost everything."

  "Maybe that's not such a bad thing then?"

  "Sure, only you wouldn't want to live without an identity, would you? Without some history?"

  "True." I twisted my fingers around each other.

  "Here's my suggestion for treatment. Let's work on things that don't have an intense emotional attachment, like your name. I want our first goal to be remembering your name, even if it's only your first name or a nickname. Just something to help restore your identity. Your mind is releasing bits of you, which means things are happening already. I believe things I give you to do will help move that along."

  She sounded so confident that I would get my memories back, but I had no insurance. "I can't pay you right now, but if I get my—”

  She waved her hand in the air. "Stop. You are covered under the grant. This is part of my research. No money involved, so let that go.” She leaned over. “What kinds of things have you done recently that have relieved some of your stress?”

  I thought about the cliff at Grady’s house with the breaking waves echoing around me and the walk down Nichole’s street. “The beach and being alone.”

  She jotted down something in her notebook. “Okay. Great. Let’s start there. Just take some solo walks on the beach at different times of the day and try not to think about remembering. Just walk and focus on the sounds of the water, the sand beneath your feet, and the air on your skin.”

  “That’s it?” I asked, disbelieving.

  “For now, yes.” She smiled and closed her notebook. "I think that's enough for today."

  “Okay." I stood up. "When should we come back?"

  "How about the day after tomo
rrow? Does that work for both of you?"

  "Works for me," Nichole said.

  "Me, too."

  "Great.” She walked us to the door. "Nichole, can you stay back for a minute?"

  "Sure." She handed me the car keys. "Do you want to just wait in the car?"

  "Yeah. Thanks again. It was nice meeting you, Dr. Caldwell."

  "You, too."

  I left the waiting area and shuffled down the hallway. Instead of taking the elevator, I took the stairs. The sound from the tamping of my feet on the metal stairs became familiar, and another flash overtook me. I was running hard. My heart was racing, but not because I was tired from running, but because I was scared. No, not scared, but petrified, and I was crying. I gripped the metal railing for stability as the feelings overwhelmed me. I sat down on the stairs to get my bearings. The memory was like the others, quick yet profound. I was still trying to catch my breath when the bottom floor door opened, and a doctor in scrubs entered the stairwell.

  "Are you okay, miss?" he asked.

  "Yes. Yes, I'm fine." I stood up and walked out onto the first floor. I was so sick of people asking me if I was okay. It just reminded me that I wasn't. When I got to the car, Nichole was already there.

  "What happened to you? I've been here for like five minutes."

  "I took the stairs." I tossed her the keys and didn't say another word.

  Bay Leaf

  DARK CLOUDS FILLED the sky as I picked at my dinner while recanting the memories that managed to escape my mind's cage. They were powerful, dark, and scary. Maybe I was better off without them.

  "You haven't said much since the appointment." Nichole had a worried look on her face as she sipped some wine.

  I put my fork down and stared off into the black waters. We sat on the patio despite the threatening sky. I should have felt excited after meeting Dr. Caldwell, but after my moment in the stairwell, I slowly fell back into a feeling of hopelessness.

  "Just tired." I forced a smile. I also missed the Reilly boys, but I kept that confession to myself.

  "Me, too. I'll be holed up in my room doing research, so go to sleep whenever you want."

  "Thanks."

  She picked up her empty plate and wine glass and disappeared into the house. I was trying to hold on to the happy moments I had with the guys, but they were already fading. I closed my eyes and tried to envision the face of the man I was kissing, with no luck and it was infuriating. All of this was. I resisted the urge to pick up my plate and throw it into the sand.

  The sky opened and the rain poured down, filling my plate and ruining my dinner. I cleared the table and went inside. After washing the dishes, I established my new nighttime routine, which was a small accomplishment, but one that brought me a peculiar sense of peace.

  I crawled into the bed and drifted off quickly, only to be awakened by a loud pounding on the door. I rubbed my eyes hard, trying to adjust to the dark. The pounding came again and Nichole came rushing out of her room.

  "Impatient much?" she shouted at the door.

  "What time is it?" I asked as she peeked through the peephole.

  "Great! Get ready for a train wreck."

  I cringed at the reference remembering the accident that took the Reilly boys' whole family. She unlocked the door, and a girl around our age stumbled inside.

  "It's about time," the brunette slurred.

  "What are you doing here, Alex? It's two in the morning. People sleep, you know?"

  "Whatever." She dismissed Nichole and sat on my bed and stared at me. "Who are you?"

  She wasn't making the best first impression.

  "Alex, this is my friend. She's staying here for a little while."

  "Wait, turn on the lights," Alex demanded.

  Nichole flipped the switch, shocking my eyes. "Can you take this into your room, Nichole?"

  "I know you," Alex revealed.

  Nichole and I looked at each other. She knew me? Adrenaline pushed the rest of the sleep away. "You do?" I was practically begging for this to be real.

  "Yes. Your name is…what the hell is your name? I know I know it. Don't tell me. Just give me a minute."

  Nichole pressed, "How do you know her?"

  "Shush. I'm trying to remember."

  If she didn't sober up and tell me who I was, I might just claw her eyes out.

  "Dammit. I can't remember."

  My shoulders sank in disappointment.

  "But I do know you. You have a really hot boyfriend. I mean, seriously, I could lick him."

  "Alex! What the hell?" Nichole exclaimed.

  "Sorry." She slouched. "But he is really hot," she said straight to me. "Are you still with him?"

  I looked at Nichole for an interjection. I was ready to lose it. She came over and grabbed Alex's arms.

  "Alex, I need you to focus. How do you know her and her boyfriend? Where did you meet them?"

  "At a party. Now, can you let go of me? You're giving me bruises." She looked at me again. "I am going to remember your name. Just not now." She stood up unsteadily. "Yeah, so, I'm going to be sick. Be right back."

  She disappeared into the bathroom, slamming the door. A second later, we heard her dry heaving. "Well, she's a piece of work." I lay back down.

  "Yeah, well, that piece of work is my little sister."

  "Sorry. I didn't mean to –”

  "No, it's fine. She has issues right now. I wonder how you guys know each other."

  I was optimistic, but from the looks of Alex, I wasn't going to learn anything until she slept it off, but there was no way I was going to get back to sleep now.

  "I better go check on her." Nichole went into the bathroom.

  My first instinct was to call Brandt, but I didn't have his number. I had Grady's, though, but after our last exchange, I was hesitant. Plus, the whole point of leaving was to figure this out on my own and save Brandt from disappointment if I was in a relationship already. I wouldn't call them, not yet, at least. Nichole came out of the bathroom, dragging out Alex who had passed out.

  "Do you need help?"

  "Nope, I got this. This isn't the first time. Try to get some sleep. We'll get this all figured out in the morning."

  "Yeah, okay. Night."

  She slammed her door shut. I scanned the room, looking for a distraction that could keep me occupied until morning, but there was nothing. I could have watched television, but it didn't sound very appealing. It was still raining outside, but what was a little rain? I threw on a pair of sweats, a sweatshirt, and my shoes and went out the front door.

  At least it was a warm storm. I hadn't tried the running thing yet, so now was as good as any time, I guess. I pounded the pavement hard and fast. I probably should have started slow, but I couldn't. I was too wound up from Alex's revelation. I needed to run off the anxiety.

  Six hours. In six hours, I would know my name. I would know the name of my seriously hot boyfriend. I would know who I was. But would I remember? And did it matter? I ran harder down the quaint, dark, and very wet streets. My shoes kicked up water, and my footsteps echoed off the asphalt. My chest was on fire from the sudden exertion, but I didn't care. I needed this.

  My muscles felt strained within five minutes, slowing me down already. I stopped, leaning over while trying to catch my breath. Maybe I shouldn't have made my first run so hard and in the rain. I choked on my breaths until, finally, my heart slowed down and my lungs cooperated. I started to go again, but this time, at just a fast-paced walk. I should be doing physical therapy, but without insurance, that wasn't really an option for me. Pushing myself this hard so soon was stupid. I was going to make myself sick. I walked back to the house and peeled off the wet sweats and slipped back into my pajamas. Running had distracted me for a whole thirty minutes. Only five hours and thirty minutes to go. Nichole's door opened, and she walked out.

  "Hey, where did you go?"

  "For a run."

  She came and sat with me. "I'm sorry you had to meet Alex like that. She used
to be so together. She had a rough go a while back, and she hasn't really been the same since."

  "I can't believe she knows me." I was still in disbelief.

  "I know, right? Small world." She threw her arm around me. "I kind of like you, though, so don't ditch me when you're reunited with your other life."

  "I won't. I couldn't. You and the boys have been my only saving grace. And to be honest, I'm not very hopeful about what I'm going to find. No one's been shouting out for me or anything."

  "Well, if this happened now, there sure would be shouting." She shook me encouragingly.

  "Thanks."

  We talked for a little while longer. She told me a little about her sister but avoided the topic that made her a train wreck. Alex was twenty and attended the community college here. She was staying with some friends in the dorm. Nichole and Alex’s parents were pretty well off, so they supported Nichole. The bungalow belonged to her parents and they let Nichole stay in it rent-free until her master’s degree was completed. They sounded like really loving and wonderful parents. My heart ached for my own parents.

  Once my eyes were too heavy to keep open, we both retreated to sleep. My muscles were still throbbing from the spontaneous run, but I wanted to run more. It felt good, and it was just what Dr. Caldwell instructed me to do.

  I WOKE UP to my body shaking uncontrollably. I searched for blankets, but they were already over me. Why was I shaking so much?

  "Hey, wake up."

  The voice was unfamiliar. I cracked my eyes open to see Alex wearing a bright smile and the source of my shaking. The dim light hinted to the sun just rising. Her facial features matched Nichole's—defined cheekbones, oval face, and olive skin. She had green eyes, whereas her sister had brown, and her hair was dark, but cut in a messy pixie cut. Nichole wore hers long.