And the sun will rise again

Chapter 5

After the counselling session I'm back to my room. Doctor said I can be back home in less than a week. But I don't really care. I'm more terrified outside the hospital with all the people. And that bustard who attacked me.

Police is waiting for me near the room.

- Miss Parker? I'm detective Alan Wilson.

- Nice to meet you Mr. Wilson.

- I'm sorry for what happened to you. We will find who attacked you and believe me he will be punished. Now I have some questions if you don't mind.

- Thank you. Of course. I need to find out who did this to me.

- What is the last thing you remember?

- I remember the hit to my head, after that I woke up in hospital with multiple injuries.

I feel my emotions coming to my eyes. It's hard for me to talk about it. To think about a person, a monster, who could hate me that much to beat me like a meat.

- Security cameras at Philip Diaz's house weren't filming the day of the attack. And we will investigate further about that. At the moment we really need your help with anything you might remember.

- Mr. Wilson, I would gladly help you if I could, - I feel a bit angry. Is he pushing me to remember the bustard? I wish I could do that, then I would just need a gun, not the police. - The thing is, after the attack, I can't recognise people's faces, even if I would saw someone, I can't recognise him anymore.

- Sorry to hear that Miss Parker. I mean if you remember some details about what happened before the attack? So you think it was a man?

- I presume so. Don't think a woman is capable of such. So. I came to Philip as we were going to have a dinner with his parents.

- So parents were at home?

- No, we were supposed to go to the restaurant, where they booked a table. "Black Swan" is the name of that place.

He was writing down some of my words.

- What happened next?

- Then we talked about college and the new play I was writing.

I just remembered that I have a written story which I wanted to send to a few production companies and Philip told me his parents can help. But I didn't want to start my career in this way. I wanted an honest and well deserved opinion, based on the stories I write. He was a bit high that night, and we talked about that. He was angry when I asked him again to quit. His voice was violent. It was the first time he raised a voice with me like that. But I don't blame him, he was not himself, it was drugs. Anyways we both are victims at the end.

I couldn't tell the officer about drugs. So I said some standard answers.

- After that I have a gap. Blackout in my mind. I'm so sorry I can't help, - and I was really sorry, as I wanted to find the monster. At the same time I wanted to protect Philip.

- Miss Parker, I know I can't talk to you much as you are still not well, but if you will remember anything, even small details, please call me. I want to help you. Such bustards should be in jail, not walking on the streets.

- I know Mr. Wilson. It's what I want the most right now. I wish I could help.

- Take care Miss Parker.

- Goodbye Mr. Wilson.

He left and I feel weird. I hide info about Philip. I don't think it would help. Just more troubles for Philip and if they find out about drugs they may put him to jail. I'm already having enough stuff to deal with, I don't want to struggle more.

My window is open. I feel the smell of the rain and it's like a refreshing drink in a desert. It gives my soul some relief. Little drops hit the ground. All the dust after a dry hot day disappears with the rain. Would be great to write in such weather. I'll ask mom to bring me a laptop. I'm wondering if I still can write? Maybe I lost this ability as well. I will check it as soon as I get any device with a keyboard.

Keyboard. I remembered I played keyboard. Music was and is a big part of my life, as well as writing. I've even created some. Need to recover as soon as possible, I want my life back.

Sometimes I think it would be better if I lost my memory at all, then it would be easier to cope with my new condition. It is such a joke, to remember everything, but not to remember faces. Why that tiny thing in the brain can't be fixed? We live in such a progressive time, but they still haven't invented a cure from my condition.

Rain is still going. I feel like nothing. Something that doesn't exist. Just a dead shell of me and that's it.

I remember my grandma has always said. The best thing in any situation is to go to sleep. I'll follow that advice. Tomorrow will be a new day, maybe something will change and I wake up and realise that all that horrible thing was just a nightmare.