A Curse Of Torment

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A Curse Of Torment Page 10

by E A Owen


  When I was younger, my mom used to always say I was wiser than my years, that I have an old soul. I never knew what that meant, and I probably still don't understand it completely. But I have noticed that my intellect has always been high for my age, even as a child, and now as a teenager, I notice myself getting bored with school—it's not challenging enough. Also, the conversations I overhear in the hallways or at lunch are so insignificant and dull. I like to have deep conversations that have substance and meaning.

  I was hoping to develop that type of relationship with Julia, but we never even got to spend a day alone, just the two of us. How could I say that? I've spent many days alone with her, just not in the way I was hoping. She just lays there, while I do all the talking. Or I sit here, not saying a word, just watching her, admiring how beautiful she is, and how sad I feel for her, and just hold her hand, trying to comfort her. She probably doesn't even know I am here by her side every day.

  One particular nurse took an interest in us. Jackie, who was probably in her mid-30s, stopped by for just a few minutes to see how I was doing. She always told me how lucky Julia was to have such a caring boyfriend who loves her so much. Even though I'm technically not Julia's boyfriend, I never corrected her. I liked being called her boyfriend; it made me smile and feel warm and tingly inside. I didn’t know much about Jackie since she always slipped out of the room as quick as she slipped in, said she didn’t want to disturb our time alone. But I mentioned my concern to her a couple times, that I didn’t think Julia even knew I was with her. But Jackie told me once that studies have proven that coma patients can hear and feel. MRI scans revealed the patients’ brains increased in neural activity when they heard a familiar voice call out their name or tell them a story, even when touching them. Also, research has shown that it can help the coma patient recover their consciousness faster. Hearing that gave me hope. It was reassuring to think Julia might be able to hear me, and that possibly just my presence, voice and touch, may help her recover faster.

  I wanted nothing more than for Julia to wake up, to hear her voice again, to see those big, beautiful emerald green eyes and her pearly, white smile again. But the other part of me wanted to protect her from all the pain and tears she would experience when she finally woke up from this coma. It was like a battlefield going on in my own head, all the worries and feelings, all the “what if's.” The unpredictability was giving me major anxiety. I like structure and organization. I like to plan ahead. No surprises. To have a set schedule. And after the accident, life was nothing but pure chaos. I hated not knowing. I hated the thoughts that infest my altered mind of existence now.

  My schedule did not help: being cooped up in school all day, coming directly to the hospital for a couple hours, then Sundays going to visit Mom. This was not what I pictured my junior year in high school being like at all. But shit happens, and I told myself to suck it up and deal with it, put my big boy pants on and stop worrying so much about the inevitable. I told myself that the only thing I could change about this situation was the way I think, my attitude. If I had more positive thoughts, those vibes might electrify through Julia's body and mind when I'm around her, which may cause a spark in her brain that might be the answer to her waking from this coma. Positive thinking. Happy thoughts. That's the answer!

  It was like a light bulb just went off in my head. I told myself, “I can't lie in bed all night thinking; I need to get some sleep. Tomorrow is a new day. I'm going to get my mind on track and dive into positive thinking right away. This is going to work. This is the key. This is why Julia hasn't woken up yet. She needs to be around people who are strong and have happy and positive attitudes to help her through these tough times. Someone to build her up emotionally and to be there for her. Someone who won't allow her to get sucked into the darkness of depression but bring the light back into her eyes.”

  I could feel my mind and body relaxing and coming to peace with one another. It was exhilarating. Life can be very complicated at times, but if we can dig ourselves out of the hole, there are endless possibilities we can achieve. Much greatness to experience. Lives we can change. I could feel my eyes getting heavy as I drifted off to sleep and dreamland.

  ***

  Two weeks later, the doctors were seeing some brain activity, nothing drastic but definitely a step in the right direction. I really think that my positive thinking sparked something in Julia, like she could feel my inner electricity jumping through my skin when I was around her. They have been monitoring her more closely since they first noticed the change. Nurse Jackie told me the other day that the doctors could see a jump in brain activity when I visited her. She had yet to move or open her eyes, that anyone knew of, but I had a good feeling about this. I truly believed Julia would finally wake up by the end of the week. I told my dad I would never forgive myself if Julia woke up and she was all alone. But my dad also made it very clear that he did not want me to miss anymore school.

  I heard a gentle tapping, and then my bedroom door slowly opened and my dad poked his head around the corner. “Breakfast is ready. I tried something new. You'll have to let me know what you think,” my dad said in a half whisper like he was trying to be quiet and not wake someone, even though it was just the two of us in the house.

  “Smells delicious.” My dad just smiled and turned down the hall toward the kitchen. My dad must not have slept very well. He usually made something quick before school so we could eat breakfast together, but apparently he had something different up his sleeve this morning. I kicked my legs over the bed half asleep, then slowly walked to the kitchen dragging me feet along the way. My dad had just set both our plates on the table.

  “I was flipping through the channels last night while I was having a hard time falling asleep, and I came across this cooking show. I've always wanted to try these,” my dad said as he looked up at me.

  “What is it?” I said while I let out a big yawn.

  “Eggs Benedict,” he said.

  “Looks all fancy! How long have you been up cooking this?” I replied.

  “Just a little over an hour is all.” “What is it exactly?” I said as I sat down at the table.

  “Poached eggs with broiled ham on grilled English muffins and smothered in hollandaise sauce with a side of my home fries you like so much.”

  “Looks and smells amazing!” I said as I took my first fork full. The sauce was rich and buttery. I've never had a poached egg before, but it was actually really good. The yolk broke and ran down the plate, but the egg whites had a nice crust. The ham was crisp and salty. My dad loves to season everything is Lawry's. I have to admit that Lawry's makes everything taste better.

  “Mmmmmm. Dad, this is really good!” I said with a mouthful.

  “I'm glad you like it. I think I'm going to make some crepes for breakfast tomorrow.”

  “Crepes?” I said, confused.

  “It's French. It's basically a real thin pancake or tortilla rolled up in whatever you want, usually some sort of a fruit filling, then drizzled with maple syrup and whipped cream.”

  “Sounds more like dessert to me.”

  “Pretty much,” my dad said, and he chuckled. My dad is a good cook. I've really liked having him around. It's been hard the last couple years with him being away all the time, but now that Mom is getting the help she needs to stop drinking, I think we can be a happy family again. At least that's what I'm hoping for.

  “Better hurry up and get ready for school or you’re going to be late, Trevor,” my dad said as he glanced at the clock hanging on the back wall. I jumped out of the chair, set the empty plate in the sink and took a big gulp of orange juice before hurrying off to my bathroom to shower quickly. I'm glad I'm not a girl. I've heard some girls my age take an hour or more to get ready in the morning. For me, it's less than ten minutes.

  ***

  My dad dropped me off at the hospital right after school like always, and as he drove off I waved but I don't think he saw me. This time everything felt different ab
out the hospital, the people, the aura, even the temperature was off—like something wasn't right. I started to panic!

  “Julia!” I gasped as I darted down the hall and around the corner to the elevators I pressed the button to the fourth floor but I was getting impatient waiting and ran to the staircase. I took long strides, skipping two stairs at a time, as I ran up the flight of stairs as fast as I could, almost losing my balance a few times. I grabbed a hold of the railing to keep from falling and kept moving. I made it to the fourth floor and pushed hard against the door. As it flung open, the door almost hit someone.

  “Sorry!” I said quickly, as I ran past the nurses’ station to Julia's room. I stood in front of the closed door for a few moments to catch my breath and regain my composure, took a deep breath in and exhaled, then pushed the door slowly open.

  My eyes must be playing tricks on me, I thought. Julia was awake and sitting up in her bed. She glanced over at me while I just stood there like a statue. I couldn't speak or move. I just stood there like a complete idiot. She smiled at me. I couldn't tell if she recognized me or if it was a nervous smile, like who is this weirdo standing in my room staring at me?

  “Julia! You're awake!” managed to escape my lips.

  “And who are you?” Julia asked, all confused.

  My worst nightmare has come true, I thought. She doesn't even remember me! My heart dropped like a bowling ball that hit the floor with a massive thud, cracking and shattering the floor surrounding me. This can't be happening right now. I was at a loss for words. I turned around and walked out of the room. I walked to the family waiting room a few doors down and sat down in the chair because I felt like my legs were going to collapse under me. I buried my head in my hands as I felt warm tears streaming down my cheeks. A hard lump had formed in my throat, making it almost impossible to speak, even if I wanted to. I couldn't let Julia see me like this. I had to be strong. “Be positive,” I said out loud. “Help her through this, even if she doesn't remember who I am. Dr. Harris warned me that this might happen.” I was just hoping it didn't come true and she would regain consciousness like a day hadn't passed by and she remembered everything like it was yesterday. But I had to face reality. And the reality was, I screamed inside my head, SHE DOESN'T REMEMBER ME!

  XI

  Memories

  Other than Julia losing most of her memory, she seems perfectly normal. She has had physical therapy four days a week for three weeks to help her regain strength in her legs after being in a coma for almost twelve weeks. But worst of all, she's experiencing severe migraines. Bright lights seem to bother her the most. She wears sunglasses most of the day.

  Nicole came down to visit for a weekend, but Julia doesn't remember her either, which I think crushed Nicole. I am not sure, given the distance she has to travel, if Nicole will try to keep in contact much since Julia doesn't even remember her, but only time will tell.

  Even though Julia doesn't remember me, I still visit her every day. It's not like we were childhood friends or anything. I just met her a few weeks prior to the car accident. But there definitely is an intense connection drawing me to her. I'm not sure exactly what it is, but it’s an undeniable force pulling me to her like a magnet. I just can't shake the feeling. It's weird, and hard to describe, but all I know is that this is where I'm supposed to be. Maybe this is what you hear people talk about, when they say that they just know this person is “THE ONE!”

  I'm not sure if Julia experiences the same feeling I do, and even if she does, I don't want to force her into anything too quickly after everything she has been through. Her focus right now is trying to get her memory back. Some parts might come back in pieces, with a simple smell, or photo; or she might wake up one day and remember everything. The thing about the brain is that it's so unpredictable. No one knows what to expect, how long, or when—it's just a waiting game. And I'm willing to wait no matter how long it takes for her to regain her memories, and even if she doesn't, I want to make new memories with her.

  Julia's Aunt Robin and Uncle Dave moved to Virginia to take care of her. From what I understand, Julia's parents had really big life insurance policies. In the case that both of them died, Julia gets everything. I'm not exactly sure how much, and really it's none of my business, but it sounds like she never have to work a day in her life if she doesn’t want to.

  I was sitting next to Julia, admiring her beauty as she was flipping through old photo albums her mother had put together of their family since she was a baby. There was a big stack of albums, and Julia was hoping that looking through them, would spark some sort of memory; but as she flipped through the pages, she was getting more and more frustrated. I felt helpless. I didn't know what to say or do to comfort her. I can't imagine what she is going through. Her life is like a book with blank pages, her entire existence a mystery waiting to be solved.

  “I don't understand why this isn't helping me remember anything?” Julia said harshly as she slammed the photo album shut and buried her face in her hands. I didn't know what to say, so I just rubbed her back.

  “It's going to be okay, Julia. Your body and mind have gone through a lot the last few months. It's probably just on overload right now. Maybe instead of trying to force yourself to remember, just take it slow, day by day, and it might come back to you over time,” I replied calmly.

  “I know, but it's just so frustrating! You have no idea what it's like to wake up and not remember anyone or anything!” Julia said on the verge of tears.

  “I'm not even going to try to pretend like I have any idea what you are going through right now. It's heartbreaking to see you like this Julia, and I wish I had some magical words that would just make this all go away! I just want to see you smile again. You have a beautiful smile.” I could feel my cheeks turning red.

  “Thanks, Trevor. You're sweet,” Julia said as she looked up at me with half a smile. I looked away shyly. There's so much I just wanted to burst out and tell her, but I couldn't. I didn't want to scare her away. She had enough emotions to deal with. We sat there in silence for a few moments.

  “Are you hungry?” I asked finally.

  “A little bit,” Julia replied, twiddling her thumbs.

  “What are you in the mood for?”

  She sat there with her legs crossed, deep in thought. “I've actually been craving one of those smothered burritos at the Mexican food truck in Redwood.” Julia’s eyes became real wide and she just sat there for a minute and didn't say anything. “O MY!” she gasped. “How did I remember that?”

  “That was your favorite place to go this summer when Nicole was staying with you when we first met,” I said.

  “Wow! That was so weird!” Julia said as she rubbed her forehead. “It just came out of nowhere! This is amazing! I actually remembered something!” Julia said with pure excitement in her voice.

  “Do you remember the dessert we would always order and share after the burrito?” I asked, trying to pry in that little mind of hers a bit more.

  Julia closed her eyes, took a deep breath and held it for a few moments, then let it out slowly. Her eyes flew wide open. “Fried ice cream with honey!”

  “That's right, Is there anything else you can remember?” I asked.

  “Not at the moment.” She sighed.

  “That's a great start, Julia. This is just the beginning of you regaining your memory, and maybe your memories will just come back to you, when you least expect it,” I said with a reassuring tone.

  “I really hope so, Trevor. You have no idea what it's like not remembering anything.”

  This is my chance to start a new life, to new beginnings with people who care about me. I trust Trevor, he makes me feel good when I’m around him. There’s something about him. These happy thoughts put my busy mind at ease.

  XII

  The Williams

  An alarm started going off. I darted into the kitchen and found my dad standing on a chair. He was waving a dish towel in front of the smoke detector, frantically tr
ying to get the smoke alarm to stop beeping. The smoke just hung in the air like a thick fog.

  “Trevor, can you open up a window!” my dad yelled over the top of the screeching alarm. I ran to the closest window, but the lock was hard to turn, like it had been painted shut. I gave it a hard pull, but with no luck. “Trevor! Any day now!” my dad yelled from across the room.

  “Dad! I'm trying. It's stuck.” I tried it again, and this time it turned. I pushed open the window and ran over to the front door and waved the door back and forth, trying to clear the air of the smoke. The alarm finally stopped and my dad jumped down from the chair with a thud.

  “What's burning?” I asked.

  “Dinner!” my dad replied with frustration as he opened the stove door and more smoke came barreling out. “The grease from the meatloaf must have overflowed.” He slowly pulled the meatloaf out of the oven and set it on top of the stove, and more grease spilled out. “What a mess,” my dad said, annoyed. “Doesn't look like the meatloaf got burned, but it probably tastes like smoke, ugh! How would you feel about going out and getting a bite to eat instead, Trevor?”

  “Sounds good to me, Dad,” I replied without hesitation. “Maybe by the time we get back, the house will be aired out from all the smoke. Let's just open a few more windows before we leave.”

  “What are you in the mood for Trevor?” my dad asked as he backed the car out of the driveway. We haven’t been to that new Hibachi Grill that just opened in town a few weeks ago. I heard the chef cooks the food right in front of you. I overheard the kids at school talking about the place. They said they put on quite a show, with lots of cool tricks. The Japanese chefs throw a bunch of knives, do some sort of egg juggling, and make a volcano out of onions.”

 

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