Page 35 of Amnesia

The doctors all said it was a defense mechanism, my own body and mind protecting me from further pain. Part of me was grateful for the protection, but the other part of me was beyond frustrated.

How could I move on if I didn’t know where I’d already been? What if there was a life out there, a life that belonged to me that had been sitting on pause all this time? What if people were waiting for me, wondering where I’d gone?

But those people never came looking. Those people must not care very much.

It was a constant tug-of-war. A constant struggle between knowing and not knowing. Which was better?

It seemed they were both hell.

The thing that bothered me most about not knowing was I couldn’t prove someone was trying to kill me. They still didn’t believe me about the attack, and the more time that went on without another one, the less and less likely it was I would ever convince them.

Hell, some days they almost hadmeconvinced I’d dreamed it all. When that happened, I would think back on what Eddie told me the morning after.Don’t let them change your mind.

True, there was a lot of stuff I didn’t know, but I did know the difference between a dream and reality. I’d dreamed many nights since that first nightmare. All of them were the same: me drowning, floating in an underwater world of quiet and peace. But it wasn’t the kind of peace I liked; it was eerie. Creepy even. And there was always the figure, sometimes a mere shadow—waiting, lurking, trying to claim me with total darkness.

The person never had a face. Their identity was never revealed to me.

Yet I knew, without a doubt, they were real.

The doctors said it was likely a memory trying to surface. A memory of the night someone tried to kill me. I wasn’t sure how I got away. No one was. My only guess would be whatever it was the person hit me with shoved me down deep, and I got lost. They couldn’t find me. The current was strong that night, and it likely saved my life. It pulled me away from the killer to where Eddie eventually found me.

Even though no one believed someone tried to kill me at the hospital (besides Eddie), no one disputed the fact I was almost a victim of murder. It had also been brought up—very gently, of course—I was the recipient of long-term abuse before I ended up in the lake. The condition I was in and a lot of the injuries (healed over and fresh) all pointed toward abuse.

Again, maybe I was better off not knowing. It seemed learning about it all might be more crippling than starting over.

But what about the murderer?

Who were they? What did they want from me and where are they now?

Maybe there wasn’t a murderer at all. Maybe that night I’d just been a victim of circumstance, some random violent act.

It was exhausting to think about. Round and round my mind would go. Between doctor visit after visit, test after test.

I’d been in this hospital for three weeks since I’d woken up, and I was no closer to answers than I was that first day.

I was afraid but also oddly relieved.

Perhaps the relief came from no more attempts to attack me, though I still believed someone was out to get me. I just wished I knew why.

Eddie walked in, and the worst of my fears slipped into the background. They never went away, but Eddie was powerful enough to make me forget them for at least a little while.

He’d been here to visit me every single day since I woke up. For three weeks now, I saw him at least once a day, sometimes twice. He pretty much came and went as he pleased, the nursing staff finally accepting the fact he was going to be here.

My head shrinker (aka Dr. Kline) often warned me about getting too close or too attached to him. It annoyed me. I felt she was trying to take away the only thing I really felt was real in my life. I needed him.

And yeah, I guess I saw Dr. Kline’s point. But didn’t everyone need someone? Being alone wasn’t easy, especially when you were alone and scared.

‘Course, I wasn’t as alone as I was three weeks ago. Not really. Things had been changing.

Wasn’t that the saying? The more things changed, the more they stayed the same. My same was my mind. Its blank pages never filled in.

“You ready?” Eddie asked, bestowing upon me a grin that literally lit up my insides. His dimples always made my stomach flutter, and the way his eyes always looked at me as if he’d known me forever gave me some sort of peace.

“They said it was okay?” I asked.

“Who would say no to this face?” He scoffed, pointing at himself.

I laughed and slid off the bed toward him and the door.

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