Page 60 of Heart Sick

Something suddenly shifts between Luna and me.

Looking over at her, I see a single tear trickle from the corner of her eye because she felt it too. We are somehow connected…and I’m going to find out how.

“Do you want help dressing?”

I look at the pretty nurse with suspicion in my eye because I don’t know her. I don’t see an ulterior motive, however. But regardless, I shake my head.

With unsteady fingers, I fasten the buttons on my blue cardigan. The color matches my summer dress. I don’t know whose garments these are, but I woke to them spread out on the end of my bed. Apparently, hospital gowns aren’t appropriate attire for an outing in town.

I was thankful the nurse gave me a brush, as I can’t remember the last time I brushed my hair. Or wore shoes, for that matter. I can’t remember much of anything.

The only thing which stands out is the agonizing pain in my head as my brain scrambled for air. I quickly brush away a runaway tear because I don’t want to cry. Well, I don’t think I do.

The chatty nurse let slip that there have been rumors in the community about the inhumane treatment of patients. It’s all hearsay, of course, she said, but to ensure an official inquiry doesn’t take place, the doctors have decided to allow the townsfolk to see for themselves.

“You look lovely,” the nurse says as I slip into a white woolen coat.

I nod in gratitude, as speech is an effort I don’t have the energy for.

Even though we are allowed to walk, it’s clear we must be chaperoned at all times. Just what is this hospital?

“I’m ready.” I flinch as I don’t even recognize the sound of my voice anymore.

She smiles and we walk out of the room together, side by side.

There are massive holes in my memory, and I feel as if I’m missing vital pieces of the puzzle. I don’t remember why I’m here. All I can recall is a deep-rooted pain in my heart like I lost something and know I’ll never get it back.

We walk down the corridor and I take it all in because I can’t remember being here before. Why can’t I remember?

Through the windows, I see a bus parked out the front of the building. There are a few people milling near it. I wonder if I’ll recognize anyone. I wonder if anyone knows who I am…because I don’t.

She opens the door and the winter breeze slaps at my cheeks. I rub my arms and am thankful I’m wearing a coat, even though I don’t know whose it is. It smells like mothballs.

Peering around the gardens, I hope to get a glimmer of recognition.

I don’t.

But it becomes obvious quite quickly that this is a state hospital. I’ve been committed. But why?

The nurse stays close to me as we approach my fellow patients who have their own chaperones. I take them in, hoping for a familiar face to stand out in the crowd.

None do.

The bus doors open, and we are herded onto it, taking seats in an orderly fashion. The nurse kindly allows me to sit by the window. I happily peer out of it, taking in this life, which is foreign yet familiar to me all at the same time.

It’s so surreal.

Although I wish I could remember, a part of me is thankful that I can’t, and I wonder why that is.

Lost in a past I can’t recollect, I focus out the window, hoping something will help me remember who I am. And when a tall man with blond hair saunters out the doors, I take my time admiring him because I would surely remember that face.

His long hair is slicked back into a low ponytail, showcasing the sharp planes of his handsome face. His jaw is sharp, angular, and his lips look full, supple. Even though he’s far away, I know his eyes will be as mesmerizing as the rest of him.

He’s in black ripped jeans and a black T-shirt. He’s covered in a few tattoos, which just seems to emphasize his ‘I don’t give a fuck’ attitude.

Whois this man?

I should really stop staring, but I can’t. He feels…familiar.

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