The guy just stood there, it made Eleanor feel uncomfortable.
"Don't you remember me?"
The guy was in the verge of crying now.
"Am I supposed to?"
The guy walked backwards slowly.
"I Don't know," he said sarcastically, "I'm just your father after all, no biggie."
Eleanor whined.
The guy stormed out the door.
Eleanor frowned. She felt so stupid and so bad that she couldn't even remember her own father.
She could hear the guy talking to someone outside her door.
"WHY DOES SHE NOT REMEMBER ME!"
"Sir, you need to calm down sir-"
"I'M HER FATHER! WHY DOESN'T SHE REMEMBERS HER OWN FATHER!"
"Sir, Eleanor has retrograde amnesia."
"WHAT THE ..... IS THAT!"
"She does not remember any memories that happened before the incident...yet."
"What do you mean yet?"
"Some memories will come back someday, but not all of them."
"Oh..."
A tear rolled down her cheek. Eleanor felt worthless now that she was giving misery to her own father when she didn't even remember him.
The guy entered the room.
So did a nurse.
"Mr. Butler, should I bring you sir a pillow and a blanket?"
The guy nodded. The nurse left the room.
Eleanor tried to end the loud awkward scilence.
"You are... You are saying here?"
"Yeah, I can't bear the thought of you being here alone."
She nodded.
"Don't you have work tomorrow?"
"I'll just call in sick."
The nurse came in again. After she left, it was silence again.
Eleanor frowned as she though at what a failure she must've been, about what inconsiderate of herself to make her father stay with her while she had no idea who he really is, instead of going to work.
Finally, curiosity got the best of her.
"How did I got hurt?"
"Car accident."
"Who was driving?"
"That was the problem."
"Huh?"
"No one was."
Later at night:
It was already late. Eleanor was deep in sleep.
It was dark. There was she, a much younger her with an innocent face.She had no scars, unlike now. And she was home alone with another boy. They were waiting for someone to come inside. The young couple entered the house, and the boy next to Eleanor handed her a Polaroid camera. She took a picture, a smile painted on her face. She handed the picture over to the boy. "best one yet Ubel." The boy smiled at her, and he ruffled her hair from the top, "You'll get the hang of it." The boy closed the door to the room the couple had just entered. Eleanor was locked out. She ran to the phone and dialed the emergency number.
"What's your emergency?"
"Help me please."
"What's wrong sweetie?"
"They are going to die."
"Who is?"
"They messed with him. He says they deserve to die."
"Are you calling me to let me know of your murder."
"No, He is going to kill them."
"What's the address?"
"I have to go. He caught me. But next time I call, the address might be yours."
Eleanor hung up.
She had a gun in her hand, and she did not hesitate to use it.
Eleanor woke up right after she had seen a dead Blonde girl lying in her dream. Eleanor began crying when she realized the dream might've been a memory. She couldn't believe she was such a monstrosity.
The guy woke up.
Great, she thought, the only thing I know what to do, is bring trouble to other people.
YOU ARE READING
Finding Myself
Horror"The belief in a supernatural source of evil is not necessary; men alone are quite capable of every wickedness." Joseph Conrad ..... Eleanor had spent her whole life with her happy-go-lucky family, at least, until a dark June night. The last day of...
