"-police found anything on her yet?"
"Nothing. There haven't been any missing person reports matching her description."
"Think she's an orphan?"
"I don't know."
My head throbbed, my entire body hurt, and yet, I didn't care about any of that. I had bigger things to worry about.
"I have two questions," I croaked, startling the two men on the other side of the room. "Where am I? And who am I?"
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Both men stood there and stared, surprised by my sudden alertness until the older man finally said, "You see, we were hoping you'd be able to answer that question yourself. I'm Sheriff Samuels. You were hit by a car this morning and have been passed out since. You have no idea how lucky you are not to have broken anything. Though we may have a different problem if you lost your memory." The man was tall and slender and looked to be about sixty. He was wearing a cowboy hat and a tan shirt with a small black name tag with 'Samuels' etched in white attached. "Don't you remember anything at all? A name? A place? Anything?"
I tried to remember, to picture a face, hear a voice. "I- I can't. I'm sorry." Nothing.
"No need to apologize. I believe you may have a form of dissociative amnesia. Your memory should come back soon enough. My name is Dr. Carlson," said a man wearing a doctor's coat. He had short blonde hair and wore glasses. He didn't look much older than me but I assumed he was at least in his late twenties.
"Should?" Should didn't sound very promising.
"Cases like these aren't easy to predict. Dissociative amnesia is not very common and without any information about your family or your medical history, we can't gi-"
"Wait. Are you saying my family has no idea I'm here?"
Dr. Carlson opened his mouth, then closed it with a sigh. "As far as we know, they don't. There is usually some sort of Missing Persons report, but as far as we know there haven't been any reports matching your description."
"What?" It's bad enough that I have no idea who I am, but the reality of no one knowing who I am, that's too much. "So no one even knows what my name is?"
The sheriff stepped in then. "Actually, we got lucky there. You had this book with you when we got to you." He handed me a copy of Little Women with an inscription on the inside that said 'Happy Birthday, Madison!'.
"Madison," I read aloud. I thought doing so would jog my memory, but nothing happened. The word sounded foreign on my tongue. "How did I get here?"
"I hate to tell you, but I don't know any more than you do, kid," the sheriff replied regretfully. "I promise the moment we get word on anything, we will let you know. In the meantime, get some rest. Doc, can I have a word?"
After giving me a cup of water and getting a nurse to keep an eye on me, the two men exited the room. I stared at the blank white wall that looked even whiter under the fluorescent lights of the hospital. With the shock of waking up without any semblance of a memory, I hadn't had any time to allow the reason for my being in the hospital affect me. The moment I calmed down enough to feel it, my entire body began to ache. I felt bruises covering my eye and cheek. My lower lip was busted and swollen, stinging from the cracked skin on it. My legs were scraped and dirty.
Dr. Carlson walked back in and walked over to the medical bed I was laying on. "Besides the emotional trauma, how are you feeling? Any physical pain?"
He knows I just got hit by a car right? You don't have to be a doctor to figure out that's gonna cause some 'physical pain.' I bit back my annoyance and simply replied, "Yeah, there is. It's mostly just soreness."
"We do have medication to help with the pain. You could probably have one now if you feel you need it."
"Please," I replied.
The doctor left only to return with a small green bottle from another room. He filled my cup with water again and gave me a pill from the bottle. I hoped this would be enough to ease my pain. Just as I swallowed my pill, a slender middle-aged woman with curly brunette hair walked into the room. She had a friendly, but nervous smile plastered over her face. She was beautiful in that southern belle sort of way, with tanned skin and kind eyes.
"Hi, David!" she said, speaking to Dr. Carlson. "Is she ready?" The lady had a thick southern accent.
"Almost," Dr. Carlson answered. "Madison, this is Adelaide Reid. She is going to be your temporary guardian until we can find your family."
"Hi, it's so nice to meet you!" Adelaide exclaimed.
I stayed silent.
Adelaide and Dr. Carlson began talking about a local charity event the city hall was hosting, but I hardly paid attention. I had no idea who I was, where I was, or who my family was. Now I was supposed to just go home with some random lady who I knew nothing about. I was so invested in my thoughts, I didn't notice Adelaide was talking to me.
"Say that again?," I asked.
"What do you think of our little town?" she repeated, not unkindly.
"I have no idea if I'm being honest. I haven't seen anything outside this room. Actually, come to think of it, I don't even know where 'our little town' is."
"Well then let me be the first to welcome you to Christiansburg, Virginia. As soon as we get you out of here I'll show you around," Adelaide enthused, then added, "That is, if you want to. I wouldn't blame you for wanting to stay in bed for a day or two. You just do things at your own pace, honey."
"So I'm gonna be living at your house?"
"Until we can find your family, yes you are. Don't you worry about a thing! We get kids coming to live with us occasionally when it's needed. As far as I'm concerned, you can be a Reid for as long as you want."
"Do you have kids?"
"Just one, a boy. He's fifteen, probably somewhere around the same age as you."
Right. 'Around' the same age because I'm not even sure how old I am. "Are you married?"
"I tried that for a while when I was younger, but it didn't quite stick. Though I suppose it's hard when the man leaves you the minute he realizes he's not cut out to be a dad. Oh well, no use dwelling on the past, especially when the past is as underwhelming as mine," she paused, leaving me to process. Adelaide Reid certainly was not a guarded woman, "I'll go get your things from the doctor, then we should be able to leave." Adelaide walked briskly out of the room, leaving me alone to deal with my thoughts.
How had my life gotten to this? Amnesia in a small town where no one knew who you were. It sounded like a bad Hallmark movie, all I needed now was a man and an irrational passion for Christmas traditions. According to the sheriff, I was lucky, but at that moment nothing about my life felt 'lucky'. It felt terrifying and confusing. I just wanted a nap and a meal. Especially a meal, I had no idea how long it had been since I last ate but it was too long ago.
As I debated whether I should ask a nurse for some lunch or wait for Adelaide to leave and eat with her, a boy walked in. He looked to be about the same age as I was, though where I was short and lanky, he had an athletic build and had to be at least six feet high. He had short, curly brown hair and familiar-looking green eyes.
"Do I know you?" I questioned, hopefully. If I recognized his eyes perhaps they were from before, from my real life. Maybe someone had found me. Please say you know me, I silently pleaded.
"Sorry I was just looking for my mom, do you know where she went?" he replied casually.
Oh. "Your mom?" Not me.
"Adelaide Reid? I'm Jackson."
"You're Adelaide's son?" That would explain the eyes. Now that she thought of it, he had the exact same green eyes as his mother, "She didn't tell me-"
"Ah, you've met!" Adelaide walked in holding a small bag in her hands, cutting my sentence off, "Jackson, this is Madison, the girl who's staying with us for a while. Alright, I've got your stuff. Let's go."
I followed her and Jackson mutely to the parking lot and climbed into the backseat of their small car.
"Jackson, don't be rude, get in the back. Sweetie, you can come and sit up here with me." Adelaide smiled back at me.
"Oh- uh- don't worry about me, I'm fine. I don't take up too much room," I stammered out. Jackson's legs were at least half of a foot longer than mine. There's no way he would be comfortable.
"Nonsense! Jackson, she's a guest and she's injured, be a gentleman and get your butt back there." Adelaide rebutted.
I might not have conceded so easily if Jackson hadn't been opening the door for us to switch places already.
"It's fine. I wouldn't argue back too much. She has an especially aggressive brand of southern hospitality," Jackson reassured me, "She also does not take no for an answer."
"And don't you forget it," Adelaide called from the front.
I climbed into the passenger seat and when I looked back, sure enough, Jackson could barely fit his legs in the room provided. It was almost comical really, me in the front with all the room in the world while he had to sit sideways just to fit.
"Thanks," I mumbled in his general direction, answered only by a quick nod.
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When we arrived at the house, I ate a quick meal of boxed mac-and-cheese and Adelaide showed me to my room. It wasn't big, just enough room for a small twin-sized bed, two dressers, and a desk. A bright carpet was spread on the floor and there were paintings and decorations throughout the room. It felt like a home, it wasn't mine. I felt as though I was intruding on someone else's life, wearing their clothes and sleeping in their bed.
Adelaide and Jackson didn't seem to mind me living with them, but how long until my charity case sob story would wear off, leaving me as just another burden in their lives. Of course, what other choice would I have? It's this or some foster home where I'd end up without a hint of privacy until I graduate.
I was stealing someone else's place in life because I didn't have a place of my own, at least not one that I was aware of. No one wanted me, not in this life, probably not in my real life. I didn't know why there had been no missing person reports about me. I was hoping they- whoever 'they' could be- were simply unable to for some reason, that it wasn't because 'they' didn't care enough about me to, more than anything I hoped that it wasn't because 'they' didn't exist. I hated the thought of the real me being completely alone. I felt a tear running down my face. I hadn't realized I had even started crying.
I curled into a ball under my blankets, tears running down my face, and that's how I stayed the rest of the night.
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Sunlight hit the lids of my eyes.
I brought my blanket up to my eyes and turned away from it, just about to fall back into a blissful sleep, when someone poked their head through my door.
"Hey, honey! Breakfast is on the table if you want some." Adelaide closed the door behind her and I heard her footsteps padding away across the hallway.
I glanced at the clock. Six forty-five. So much for sleeping in. My shoulders were stiff from the odd position I slept in. My eyes still felt puffy.
I swung my legs over the side of my bed and sat for a minute, staring at the dresser across the room. The last thing I wanted to do was face the Reids and their wonderful life that I would be an intrusion on.
I forced myself to get up and change my clothes. After combing through my hair a few times, I walked out of my room into the aroma of bacon and toast. Jackson was sitting at the table, chewing on a piece of bacon and looking at something on his phone. Adelaide was pouring a large mug full of coffee for herself.
"Bacon and toast are on the table, cereal is in the cupboard. Help yourself," Adelaide called to her.
"Gotta go, mom." Jackson stood from the table and grabbed a backpack slung over the back of his chair, "I'm going to Evan's after school today."
"Ok, see you!" Adelaide yelled, "Have fun!"
I sat at the table and began filling a cup with orange juice and grabbed a piece of toast. Adelaide came over and sat down across the table from me with her coffee and a bowl of Froot Loops.
"I was thinking I could show you around today," she offered, pouring milk into her cereal, "I would've had Jackson do it, but he's still at school today. He's out for the summer tomorrow and then I'll have him show you around all the teen spots around town, but for now, you're stuck with me!"
"I'm fine," I blurted much too quickly. "I mean, you don't have to do that. I don't need you and Jackson going out of your way just to show me around." There was no way I was going to be paraded around town like a tourist. And then, of course, there were the busybody neighbors that would have no doubt asked countless questions that I wouldn't have known the answer to.
"Nonsense! You aren't making us go out of our way! Besides, Jackson may be done, but I still have to go to work most days. This is just making sure you have things to do and places to hang out while I'm gone."
Realizing it would most likely be nice to know where things are, and figuring it would be hard to refuse to go without seeming rude, I conceded. "Sure. That sounds nice."
I quickly finished my breakfast and mumbled something about showering to Adelaide before disappearing into my new room. I walked over to the dresser and opened a drawer before realizing I didn't really own any clothing other than the outfit I was currently wearing and the one in the bag Adelaide gave me grabbed for me from the hospital. All that had been in it was a pair of jeans, a t-shirt, and a few twenty-dollar bills. I needed to ask Adelaide for some new clothes while we were out. I didn't want her to spend too much money on me, but maybe I could use what little cash in my bag to purchase a few garments.
I stepped into the shower and turned the faucet on. Something about finally having a chance to be alone with my thoughts since the shock had worn off left me feeling empty. Anger, I realized. It wasn't emptiness I felt, but anger. Anger at myself for not remembering, at this stupid little town for being a place so foreign to me instead of being my home. I was even angry at Adelaide and Jackson for being so normal when my life has become anything but. Anger at the people who found me and brought me to this whole situation when they could have just left me alone, preventing me from becoming this burden to people I hardly know.
Mostly, though, I was angry at my parents. Whoever they were. I didn't know the reason they had not even tried to find me. Maybe they were dead or stupid or maybe they were trying but it just hadn't worked yet. To be completely honest, I did not care. I was angry that their situation affected mine so deeply that I, for some reason, was now trapped in this farce of a life.
I tried to cheer myself up, imagined the best possible scenarios of my parents finding me and telling me they're sorry, that there was a perfectly proper reason for a report not showing up. Though, of course, my real beliefs, the ones of loneliness, hatred, and despair, always had a way of resurfacing. Every single time I finally began to feel a bit of hope, all I had to do was look around the room, at the things that I now owned but would never really be mine, and I would remember that I was trapped in this shell of a person. Without a past, a memory, or even an idea of who I'm supposed to be.
I stepped out of the shower and began dressing for my new life.