Cerebral Cortex

There isn't much about Madden I remember.
All my memories of being there are so vague in my mind. Of course, I remember travelling there and arriving.  This was 5 years ago bare in mind. I can remember things like settling into my room and making myself at home. I remember I was strangely not nervous on my way there, which was unusual for me as I was always so consumed by my anxiety when I went to new places and met new people.

The very beginning is clear to me, along with the end.
It's just the in between that is not. 

"It's been so long now. I'm tired of driving myself mad in an attempt to get my head around all of this.."

I had my head in between my hands, face and eyes just centimetres above the table, and amidst my seriousness I noticed how dirty the table was and sprung back up.

"I'm so drained from the past month I can't even think or do things properly anymore."
I cleared my throat.

"Since I left there nothing has felt the same. I feel an unsettlement inside me, this lingering ache in the pit of my belly that doesn't leave. I thought I felt it before but this is different.."

I stood up and walked to the window to feel the breeze from outside. I felt hotter the more I spoke about it all.

I was pissed off. Pissed off I couldn't remember certain students at Madden and specifically the ones that were mentioned in the ceremony, the tutors, the events that were being relayed back to me and most importantly the night before before I left.

"I wish it would just come back  to me" I walked back to the table and sat back down.

"How can I not remember the girl that was apparently my best friend?" I snapped. 

"How can I not remember what happened to her?" I yelled at Monica.

I felt bad afterwards. I knew she wouldn't appreciate the extra volume, plus her 'sensitive ears" is the so called real reason she can't handle a loud mouth.

After all, she has been the one to try and tie the shoelaces of my life securely on my feet again. In return, I promised her I would try my best to do what she advises even though I've always been a bitch with doing what I'm told.

"It doesn't make any sense to me really"
I calmed my voice right down, I felt it naturally happen so I didn't fight it. And that, Monica would appreciate.

With a half smile and her eyes finding mine, she held my gaze for a few seconds before she finally spoke.

"You are a smart girl. I know that. You have a lot of small little pieces that make up this big piece, you know what I mean?.."

I raised my eyebrows while my lips were solidly shut.

"And there is two ways in which you do this my love, honestly, and after this you're going to have to make a decision for your own sanity.." she explained.

I was intrigued now. She always threw me off with her odd metaphors and analogies, but they reminded me of riddles and I always loved them as a kid. Maybe that's why I like her, and actually tolerate the crazy shit that comes out of her mouth.

"Did your family home have that one draw, or even where you're living now, that one draw in the house that had loads of little random things in it?"

I replied quite promptly yes.

"I think everyone does" I smirked.

"Well, have you noticed when you go in there for looking for whatever it is, your focus is only on looking for that specific thing?"
She began.

"In this case imagine your mind is the drawer and your memories are all the things that are inside it. Now when you're looking in the draw for say, a battery, your sight and all it's initiative are focused on looking for the battery, to which you will find. And in your case the battery is a particular memory."
She continued.

"Now you remember the main memory but you don't remember the additional details. Just like you probably wouldn't remember what else you saw in the drawer whilst you were only looking for the battery."
She adjusted her positioning on the stool.

"Now a separate occasion, you don't need anything in particular but you decide to look into the drawer to see what you can find. This time you take notice to all the different things in the draw, acknowledging that the draw contains a variety of things, not just a battery"

"Riightt"
I interrupted.

She smirked.

"Soo.."
I added.

She carried the smirk into her sentence
"So.. moral of the story is you only find what you look for"

"But I'm looking"
I interrupted.

"You're looking, yes. So perhaps that's not the moral of your story"

I raised my eyebrows.

"Maybe the moral is either - open the draw again and don't look for the battery or, just close the fucking draw"