"I'm shipping you both to boarding school."
Those seven words changed Debbie's life forever.
*****
Amnesia is defined as loss of past memories due to a traumatic experience.
Debbie is sent to a hostel she's previously gone to but with no recollectio...
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Ever had that feeling that someone is watching you in your sleep?
I tried drifting back to nothingness but I just couldn't shake this alarming feeling that I was being watched.
A tap on my shoulder jolted me so hard, that my hand acted faster than my brain could process and I slapped the stranger on the face.
"Ow! Remind me to never wake you up again." I just stared up at him confusedly and looked around the room, trying to recall where I was and who he was.
He took in my confused gaze and sighed. "My name is Nathan, I'm your sexy older brother, and you're in your bedroom, now hurry up and get dressed, we leave today."
I shook my head in an attempt to bring my memories back. "Where are we going to?" I asked.
He gave me a defeated look before angrily saying, "Hostel."
Like a painful shot in the head, I remembered all the events that occurred yesterday. Abruptly getting up, I turned to my brother who was still sitting at the edge of my bed stroking my white rabbit.
"We have to protest," I fumed. Stretching my sore limbs, I headed to my bathroom to quickly wash my face and brush my teeth.
This isn't fair. I need more time.
"Both of them are already on board."
"You mean dad agreed?" I asked, shocked that dad would've wanted to get rid of us. Mum I can understand, but dad?
"Yep. Apparently he's tired of always cleaning up the broken plates and cups."
"That has only happened twice this week." I finished brushing my teeth and headed to the shower. Taking off my clothes, I stepped in and felt the hot water sliding down my back, soothing some of my problems. "Why are you in my room anyways?"
"To help you pack," he said from behind my closed bathroom door. "And to stop you from jumping out the window."
"That has only happened once this week," I yelled at him defensively. "And you know why."
"Debbie," he said, concern etched in his voice. "Your memory is getting worse."
I know my memory is getting worse, I wanted to shout at him. That's one of the reasons why we're going back to that hellhole.
"I don't wanna talk about it." After wrapping my cotton towel, I came out of the bathroom to see a massacre of my clothes strewn carelessly on my bedroom floor. I looked up and laughed at the sight of my brother, with my black lace bra on his hair. "How did that happen?"
"I don't wanna talk about it," he replied, looking a little flustered.
I grabbed my black bra from his head. Looking at the pile of clothes, I took a green short sleeved shirt with black dungarees and headed back to the bathroom.
