"What's the problem?" A woman asked, getting up from the plastic chair she was sitting on. The wait was killing her, she wanted to see her daughter right away. But no, the doctors decided they weren't finished with all their tests and wanted them to sit in the waiting room for two hours. Two whole hours of waiting in suspense. They sure know how to torture people.
"She's lost all her memory." The doctor replied, glancing down at his clipboard. There was no reason to look down, but he decided it wasn't very smart to look straight in the eyes of an angry woman. He just wanted to hurry up and send the child home and go on with his business.
"She doesn't remember anything?!" The woman yelled, dropping her purse. "You've got this all wrong! She's in there healthy, you don't know what you're talking about!" She was in denial. She didn't want her daughter to end up like this, all her memories were gone forever. Wait, forever? "It's not forever is it?"
"No. Nothing at all." This woman was bi-polar. He made sure to get another doctor to talk to her as soon as possible.
"This is all my fault. If only I had made her stay home and not go grocery shopping for me. She can't even remember her name?" The woman asked, putting a steady hand on her husband. This was all too much for her. First she finds out her daughter's been hit by a car, and she's lost her memory? Why couldn't it be her that went through all this? Not her daughter, it shouldn't have happened.
"No, ma'am, not forever. But we've already informed her of her name, age, and the basics on things she must know."
"Can I see her?" She asked, grabbing the purse she had dropped earlier ago.
"Of course, two at a time, please."
The lady nodded her head and grabbed her husband's hand. They walked into a white-walled room and looked at their daughter for the very first time since she got here. It's not that they didn't want to see her, it was just too hard to handle everything.
"Mom? Dad?"
"Charisa? Oh, honey, we're here now. Look at you! It's like nothing ever happened!" The woman yelled, running over to me. She was my mother? She seemed nice to me. What about my dad? Is that him? "Bobby, come over here!" My mom harshly whispered, tugging on the middle-aged man's arm. "This is your dad. You've kind of only met him before you lost your memory. We decided to get married again, so I'll let you two get to know eachother when we go back home." They were married before? Well, he does look a little like me. I guess I got more from my mom's side.
"Do I have any siblings?" I asked. It was okay for me to ask questions, right? She wasn't going to attack me, was she?
"Yes! Yes, you do. You have a six year old sister, Danielle. She's at school right now, but you'll meet her later on." My mom answered. Why wasn't my dad saying anything? Could he even talk? I can't remember anything. I feel like I should know all of this. I can't stand it.
God, help me in this time of need. Wait, am I even christian? Oh my god.
Soon the stars will be falling down to rescue us.
"What kind of music do I like?" I asked my baby sister.
As soon as we got home, a little girl with curly, brown locks ripped the door open and ran at full speed towards us three. She was the cutest little girl I've ever seen. As she was gushing about how her day went, I caught a glimpse of a boy with a faux-hawk silently exiting the house and jogging to the one next door. Babysitter? I shook my head of thoughts about the mystery boy as the girl wrapped her skinny arms around my legs. This family seemed nice to me.
"Well, I think I've heard rock music blasting out of your room," She answered, "I don't really know though. You never came outside of your room unless you went out. This is probably the most I've ever talked to you." What? Where did I go? Was I even a nice person? This is all getting to me, I hate it.
"I'm sorry." I apologized, staring at the screen in front of me. We were watching Dora The Explorer. Not my choice, of course. But I guess it's the least I could do, seeing as I wasn't really a good big sister to Danielle. "You know, you sure are smart for a eight year old."
"I know, people tell me that all the time." She smiled, breaking her snickers bar in half and handing me the other half. "But it's okay, because I don't really mind." She bit into the bar, caramel oozing out of it and almost falling onto her lap. She grabbed a napkin on the small table next to the couch and wiped her chin.
I bit into my snicker, thinking of any more questions I could think of. "Who was that boy coming out of our house?"
"What boy?" She asked, but her eyes widened a little in recognition, "Oh, you mean Joe? He's my babysitter. Mommy and daddy have work 'til late and you're always gone." So I was right. How long am I gone everyday?
"Is this an everyday thing?" I asked. She gave me a confused look when I didn't elaborate fully on the question. "I meant about me being out late all the time."
Her mouth formed an 'o' as she nodded her head, "Yeah, pretty much. You'd get home around ten or so." What did I do? "Sometimes Joe would mention how you were drunk. Is being drunk good?"
"No, not good at all. Don't ever be drunk, you hear me?" I stared at her, waiting for her to nod her head, reply, anything.
She pondered for a while, "Okay?"
"Good, we don't want anyone to be drunk in this house." I stated, ending this conversation. "Pass me another chocolate bar, please." This was only day one of me being home and it was pretty good. I wonder what tomorrow will bring me.
I should've noticed, I should've noticed, when she came into the picture.
"How about you go outside and see if you can remember anything. The doctor said that if you go around places you normal pass by, memories might come back to you."
What if I don't want these memories back?
"Wait, what? I asked out loud, looking around me. The only one standing there was my mom, and I swear she didn't say that.
"I said, 'how about you go outside and see if you can remember anything'." my mom repeated, looking at me weirdly. I heard that, but what was that other thing? I decided against telling my mom what I heard, afraid she would take me back to the hospital and check me for schitzophrenia.
"Alright, mom. I'll go do that." she nodded her head with a smile and left my room. After watching her descend down the stairs, I grabbed my bag and took a quick glance at my room. "I'll get a further look at my room after."
"Are you going somewhere?" Was her name Dora? Wait, no. That was the character's name in the show I was watching. What was her name? It was killing me not knowing my own sister's name. Or any of my family's names for that fact.
"I'm going to take a little walk...uh, what was your name again?" I asked, bending down to be at the same length as her.
"Danielle." That's right! "Do you know why you can't remember me?" I shook my head. Actually, no one really did tell me why I was in the hospital.
"You were in a car accident." ...Car accident? "I don't really know all the details, but Joe was outside when it happened and called the hospital."
"Thank you, I think I'll just go ask mom later. I'm going on that walk now, alright?" I said, getting up from the ground.
"Alrighty. See you." After she went into her room, I walked outside and stopped on my porch. "Where to go first...hmmm, right." A few more steps and I was off the property and onto the sidewalk, a group of kids I just noticed stopping in front of me.
"Charisa? You look messed up, dude!" A short, red-haired guy yelled, holding a strand of my hair in his hand. "Where's all your piercings and shit?" He asked. Who were these guys? I looked at all of them an noticed there was only two girls out of the five of them. Who walks in groups this big? Keeps the druggies and bad people away, I guess.
"Who are you?" I asked, yanking my hair out of his hands.
Lift me higher with your words [Rest in the results]
I was bored.
"It's Tom. Don't you remember me? I'm your boyfriend!" He yelled, grabbing a hold of my wrist. Boyfriend? No one told me I had a boyfriend. What is going on here?
"I don't know who you guys are and I know for a fact that I don't have a boyfriend." I snapped, trying to pull my arm away from him.
He gripped my wrist tighter, "Oh no you don't, you're coming with us." No! He can't take me! Is anyone out here? HELP!
"Let go of me!" I screeched, digging my nails into his arm.
"Ow! You mother son of a---"
"Hey!" Tom let go of my hand and looked in the direction of where the voice came from. It was that baby-sitter guy and a boy who looked almost exactly like him. I wrapped my other hand around my wrist and ran back into my house, locking the door right after.
Those were the bad people.
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