Page 69 of A Me and You Thing
My eyes move to the name.
Quinn Denali.
Quinn Denali. Quinn Denali.
The name echoes through my mind, bouncing around as I fall to my knees and then to a sitting position. The pain in my head is overwhelming as something shifts and moves inside my brain. I drop the passport and hold my head in an attempt to control the throbbing. Every single memory I own comes back to me in one blinding moment. In a flash. In an instant. It’s all there.
And suddenly I know. I know everything. Like a switch inside my brain has been flipped. My passport acted like a portal of sorts. One glance and my memories are back, transporting me back into my old life. That’s all it took. All this time. All I needed was a slight nudge, one little memento from my former life to bring me back.
I know who I am. I know my name. I know how I got here and I know where I’m supposed to be.
Where I’m supposed to be.The agony that runs through my body is ruthless.My babies. Sawyer. I cry out, a tortured scream that is ripped from my body.
Memories rush over me in waves. I remember the feeling of buoyancy as our bus flew through the air. I remember the abrupt landing, the pain that shot through my body at the blunt force, the way we were thrown around the inside of the bus like rag dolls, screaming and flailing. I remember something hitting my head, the strength of the blow rendering me deaf. The silence was soon replaced by an odd sort of ringing noise that grew louder and louder. I felt numb, weightless, the world around me slow and sluggish. Then a gush of air sucked me free from impending doom and I was flying through the sky with a crazy amount of momentum.
Everything went black after that.
I woke up moaning because my entire body hurt and I could barely catch my breath. I was lying on cold, wet earth, shivering and teeth chattering. My vision was blinded by blood that seemed to be seeping from my forehead endlessly. The acrid smell of smoke hit my nostrils, making me cough furiously. I remember getting to my feet, feeling unstable and dizzy as I wiped at my eyes. Blood seemed to be everywhere as the rain washed it down my body. I felt dazed and confused. I had no idea where or who I was. My thoughts were jumbled and chaotic as I wondered what had happened to me and how I happened to be on this hillside.
I remember seeing the remains of a fire down by the river and thinking that I’d better get away as fast as I could before the fire spread. I walked along the hillside, stumbling and tripping, then forcing myself to get back up. I knew I needed to keep walking, but every part of me throbbed with pain. Tiny gashes covered my arms, my head burned with blinding force, and a deep breath was simply agony. Finally, I came across a road, so I stayed on it, thinking I would find someone who would help me.
I did.
An older couple stopped to help me.
Tía and Tío.
I must’ve been a sight with blood dripping down my face, a sight worthy of a horror movie.
“Dios mío,” the lady kept saying over and over as they let me lay down in the back of their old, rusty truck, the surface hard and uncomfortable, yet a welcome relief.
The next thing I remember is waking up in a bed asTíatended to me. Yes, she tended to me and saved my life. I had broken ribs, tiny cuts, gashes, and bruises all over me, and a head wound that left me staring at the walls vacantly. She patiently cared for me and never pushed me to get out of bed until I was healed. Even then she continued to tend to me until I regained my health.
There was a catch though. I didn’t know it at the time, but I was an investment, a way to prepare for the future. Because as soon as I was well enough to work, it was my turn to tend to her. Slowly, all of the household chores shifted to my shoulders.
I am notNiña.
I am Quinn. Quinn Denali. I have children. I have a husband. I have a life.
And it’s not this one. No, I’ve always known this is not my life. Always. But being thrown from a bus and suffering a severe head wound stripped me of my memories.
It stripped me of everything. How couldTíaandTíodo this to me? They stole me away from the scene of an accident, healed me, then made me their servant. And I did what I was told. Because I was lost in a haze, my brain shrouded by fog.
Another scream rips through my body as memories hit me so hard and fast, I can barely keep up. Tears roll down my face, and I’m taken over by deep, convulsive sobs. I fall to the floor and let my grief leave my body in anguished sprays of despair.
This is not my life. This is not my life.
How could I have forgotten Sawyer? How could I have forgotten my beautiful baby girls? How is that possible? They are everything that matters to me in the world.
All at once, I sit up, my mind bursting with thoughts, clicking from frantic to calculating within minutes. There’s no time for remorse or sorrow. None. This is not my life. I need to escape.
Now.
TíaandTíolocked me in my bedroom during my recovery. I have vague memories of waking up, wondering where I was, and trying to go out the door. It frightened me to be locked in the small room. I would bang on the door while screaming for help.Tíaalways escorted me back to my bed with soothing words I didn’t understand. Even more reason to be confused. I had no idea what she was saying. The world around me was an unfamiliar and blurry kaleidoscope of images.
They have been kind to me. But, make no mistake, I have been their servant. Sun up until sundown.
They won’t let me leave—although I’m not sure how they would stop me. I don’t want to find out the extent of what they’re willing to do. All this time, they knew who I really was. Yet, they made no effort whatsoever to return me to where I belonged.
