The Memory Jar [Zayn Malik]

Chapter 13: Mistaking

            I’ve been thinking about this moment for a while now, finally re-meeting my parents. But I don’t feel at all like I thought I would. I thought I’d feel completely overjoyed and would run into their arms happily, but right now all I feel is… empty. 

            “Hi,” is all I can manage. 

            She only gives me a small smile and envelops me in a hug, which I awkwardly return. 

            “Now, I know you’ve been having trouble with your memory,” she says as she pulls back, gripping my shoulders and looking into my eyes. “But we’re here for you, all right? No matter what.” 

            I can only numbly nod, glancing over a Zayn to see him give me a reassuring smile and thumbs up. 

            I can’t even think of these people as my parents or my family. I can’t bring myself to say, let alone think, “Mum and Dad”, all I can refer to them is as two people that I’m suppose to love as family, yet I feel nothing.

            “Er,” the man begins. “You probably don’t remember but these are your sisters. Doniya,” he gestures to the oldest, who offers nothing but a nod and a polite smile. “Waliyha,” the second, who looks younger than Zayn, smiles and waves. “And finally, Safaa.” The youngest just looks at me with wide, unblinking eyes the way children always do, usually to strangers. 

            Do my own sisters not like me? I don’t even remember them, or what I did, but Waliyha is the only one that’s acting even mildly friendly towards me.

            “I’m Patricia,” the woman adds. “And that’s Yaser. We understand if you’re not really comfortable with Mum and Dad yet.”

            There’s an awkward, dead silence that lingers, like a heavy fog over the room for a moment.

            “So how long will you be staying?” Zayn clears his throat and asks, giving his- our- parents a look that suggest something I can’t place.

            “Just a day or so,” Yaser answers. “We don’t want to intrude, or get in the way of your job. 

            “It’s not intruding at all,” Liam chimes in again. 

            Another awkward pause settles before Louis speaks. “Why don’t we all sit down and catch up? That would be fun, right?” 

            After talking- well, really just sitting and listening- to the “catch up” conversation, chiming in every once in a while when being directly spoken to, I don’t feel any better at all. 

            I thought that at least by now I’d remember something, that just their faces alone would trigger some sort of memory, but there’s been absolutely nothing. I thought that I’d see them and then I’d be overwhelmed with joy and cry about how much I’ve missed them. 

            But there’s still only the emptiness. 

            You lost your memory Dana, I silently scold myself. Of course you’re not going to feel that way, not immediately. Give yourself a break, it’ll come eventually. 

            But what if it doesn’t? What if I never remember them, just like I can’t remember Zayn or any of the other boys before I woke up in the hospital? And what if I continue only remembering those complete strangers, two of whom I haven’t even met since the accident.