The Four Year Difference

Entry Number 1

Hello Journal,

I know today is Saturday, March 6th, but it's the March 6th that is four years ahead of what my brain remembers. If that's complicated to understand, then welcome to the club.

Please, take a seat, the meeting is about to start.

Now, let me set the story for you, my dear ol' precious, brand new journal. Imagine waking up in a cold sweat in the middle of a hospital room. Could you imagine the fear? Cords attached to your body like a computer, the numbing feeling of just waking up from a really long, nice nap, but you're in a hospital bed, all alone, and you have no memory of being admitted in the first place.

My initial reaction was to scream, but I'm not insane, I don't need to scare the busy nurses and doctors, and I'm not in urgent need of help, so I looked around and found a button to page a nurse down.

A doctor and nurse soon rushed into my room and did a check up on me. They called my parents right after. While we waited for my family to arrive, the doctor explained that I lost my memory from an accident.

Yes, that's right. I have forgotten everything that happened in the last four years of my life. Every single bit of it. Apparently, I'm a senior at Lutherdale High. But what I can remember is only up to my eighth grade.

Isn't that hilarious? A graduating senior with only eighth grade knowledge. It's sort of numb to me. I just...don't understand what to feel.

The doctor told me to try to record something in a notebook everyday until I regain my memories, thus, the existence of you. After we left the hospital, I asked my parents if we could stop by a store to buy a notebook, and now I'm just writing down what I remember from today.

You'll be like my mind, so we'll be struggling through this together.

I'm currently trying to grasp the fact that I stopped enjoying computers and coding around my sophomore year. I wanted to be a Computer Engineer since the eighth grade. I fell in love with coding, it's like another language. I was even going to go to a Hackathon, an event filled with people with the same passion for computers. However, apparently I decided my junior year to pursue acting.

That's right, journal, acting... it's very far off from being a computer engineer.

My parents told me this on the ride home from the hospital, in hopes for my memory to jog back to me, that I became obsessed with theatrical performances. I performed as a lead in several musicals held by my high school. They also told me I already got accepted into a college with the major of theatre/performing arts.

I don't even know how to pronounce the name of the college, yet alone be attending it soon.

Other than that mess, I can't comprehend what even made me forget the last four years in the first place.

The doctor tried explaining, but I was too in shock to believe it. I asked my mother when she arrived at the hospital, and she explained.

My mom told me that I was with a friend, who's name is Amia, and we were walking to her house. It was during winter break, and it was in the middle of the afternoon. She said that me and Amia were happy to be outside because it stopped snowing as much. We were walking with cookies and brownies from my house. We just had a sleepover together and we were going to a small friend party at some guy named Mason's house. When we were walking down the highway, a speeding driver that was drunk in the middle of the afternoon did not stop fast enough when they saw us on the road. Me and Amia were hit, and we both ended up in comas. I took around three months to wake up, and my dad told me Amia hasn't woken up yet.

They said we'd visit her after school on Monday, but I don't even know if I'll survive the school day. I don't even know how I survived freshmen year. Rumors were spread at my middle school about Freshmen Fridays, and how the freshmen got teased by the upperclassmen.

I'm scared to go to my high school. I don't wanna be stuck in crowded hallways and I'm definitely not ready for the struggle of learning 12th grade things. We'll see how it goes on Monday. My parents want me to get a head start on school work again, since I did miss three months of work.

Anyways, it's getting late, and we just got home. My room looks so different. It's plastered in broadway posters. I feel like I'm sleeping in a stranger's room. I'm going to try to go to sleep.

Talk to you tomorrow, journal.