***Layla's Point of View***
The next afternoon my mother came by to pick me up from the hospital. Allen had offered to do it multiple times, but she claimed that she felt bad for not being here and she wanted to be the one to at least drive me. Allen couln't keep objecting, so he gave in.
Allen had stayed with me all night, and it appeared he had stayed up all night from the bags under my eyes. I wish I remembered him. I secretly pretended to sleep as my mind wondered in search for a memory with him. I also enjoyed pretending to sleep because he would come over and intertwine his strong but gentle hands into mine. Then, he gently kissed my forehead and it made my heart race. I knew he wouldn't do this to me when I was awake because he was afraid to startle me with strong feelings. I didn't really know if I could ask him to kiss me, I was still very uncomfortable with this situation.
I snapped out of my small memory from last night as my mother was calling my name. I would sometimes forget it was my name and not respond right away, but I was starting to get better at that.
"Well, there is some good news." she said, mostly talking to Allen. "She has retrograde amnesia, so her future memories won't be affected."
Allen sadly smiled. It was kind of obvious that that was whats going on, but I guess they were looking for the ''silver lining''.
I wish I could find one, but how could I?
I didn't remember my family, my friends, my home, or even the man I loved. I would fantasize at the memories we might of had together, secretly hoping something might click and I would remember everything about us.
I shook my head, angery with myself. This was so frustrating.
Soon, I had changed into normal clothes other then the ones the hospital gave me and we started heading outside. I was so eager to be outside after being stuck in my small and uncomfortable hospital room.
Then, large glass doors appeared and I ran outside. I breathed in the fresh air sighed. The warm air covered me and it was very humid, especially compared to the heavily air conditioned hospital, but it felt nice. Allen said I've been in there for about three weeks, so I decided that I really did need this.
I heard a few giggles from my family who had just stepped outside with me. They watched at how excited I was to be outside, but I didn't care; it felt amazing.
"Come on Layla, this way." said my mom, motioning to walk up the sidewalk. I turned to see Allen not following us.
"Your not coming?" i asked.
"Nah, my cars over there, but I'll meet you at your house." he slightly grinned. I took a small step forward and started leaning into me, but we both hesitated. I didn't know him yet. I knew I used to know him, but my new mind didn't and it was too confusing.
He stepped back, his perfect lips turning into a frown and guilt pinched my stomach in every place possible. Then, he awkwardly bounced back and took off for his car.
I turned around on my heel and jogged to catch up with everyone else. My head drooped and I was more frustrated then ever. I'm actually emotionally hurting other people now. But was it really my fault?
Was it going to get worse? Something in my stomach made me think yes, and I got upset. I noticed everyone stopped at a 2001 Chevrolet Suburban and everyone got in.
They all knew what the car looked like, I didn't. This bothered me more then it should. I opened the passenger car door and hopped in, buckling myself.
The car ride was pretty silent. I was happy, I needed piece and quiet. Not only was I totally stressed out from what was going on, but I had an excruciating headache that made me want to slam my head on the car window.
The car drove down unfamiliar roads, of course, and then finally the car started driving through a more neighborhood like area. I wanted to look out the window, but it would remind me on how I wouldn't remember anything.
God, my head hurt.
"Mom, my head is killing me."
"Oh, the doctors warned me about this. Don't worry, we're almost home and I'll give you the pain killers the doctors recommended."
I nodded, the motion hurting my head, and then regained some strength. Soon the car pulled up into a short driveway, and stopped. I slowly stepped out of the car to notice the house. It was a sweet and family looking house. It was a white house with dark red shutters and front door. The small front lawn was neatly cut and well kept, along with the decorative bushes. There was a basketball hoop, probably for Triston, next to the garage door.
This was home.
"This is 79 West Main Street." announced my mom, looking at me.
I shook my head, trying to remember this just in case of an emergency. Then I felt someone lightly take my elbow and I could tell it was Allen from the feeling it gave me. He led me into the house, and I felt him release.
My heart sank a little, so I looked around. In front of me was a pale blue hallway leaning to the kitchen and a staircase was on the right side of the hallway. On my left appeared to be a cozy living room with a flat screen and to my right was an opening to the modern dining room.
"I'll show you your room!" exclaimed Raina, suddenly getting excited. "Oh! I should just give you a tour!" she smiled. I really just wanted my pain killers and some sleep, but I couldn't disappoint her happy face, so I accepted the invitation as she grabbed my hand and led me up the stairs.
First she showed me her room which was painted lime green. It had a dark framed bed, and there was clothes and miscalanious things lying all over her room. One wall only held pictures of her and her friends.
Then, she dragged me to Triston's red and gray room. It was a typical teen boys room; extremely messy. There was a small TV sitting in the corner of his room, surrounded by multiple video games cases. After that came my mom's room which didn't excite me too much, and then the bathroom that I apparently shared with Triston and Raina.
"You ready?" she asked eagerly. I didn't know what she was talking about so I just nodded my head pretending to be excited. She then took me across the hall to a room with a door filled with posters, and a small label that read Layla.
This must be my room.
She opened it, and I should've felt at least a little sense of home, right? No. Not even a little. Emptiness greeted me along from a warm breeze coming from an open window. The walls were painted light blue, close to the blue in the downstairs hallway but a little more dramatic. The floor was a light oak and all my furniture was white. My squared bed with storage cabinets on the bottom was pushed in the corner and I wanted to fall asleep in there right now. I went over to the window that was decorated with white, light curtains that was blowing around from the summer breeze and closed it, not wanting anymore cold air to escape.
"Do you like it? Do you...remember it?" she asked, almost whispering the last part. Tears started to pour into my eyes, but I didn't let her see.
"It's beautiful, thanks for showing me, but no...I don't remember." I said, sighing out the last part.
"Oh." She said, playing with her hands as her hazel eyes dropped to the floor. "Well, dinner will be out soon. Mom's making Italian, your favorite." My stomach sank, realizing she had to remind me that I loved Italian. I wanted to scream. "It should be done in about forty minutes, so you have time to shower or anything." And then she disappeared down the stairs.
A shower sounded so nice right now.
I stepped into the shower, letting the burning hot water attempt to wash away my worries. I used some coconut scented shampoo and conditioner and the hopped out. I wrapped myself and my hair in a towel and almost jumped when I saw my reflection in the mirror.
Of course I woulnd't recognize myself.
I then noticed healing bruises, mostly on my forehead and right arm. There were multiple cuts over my body, some on my neck and others on my arms. I took my hair out of the towel and let my blond hair fall on my white skin. I stared deep into my green eyes.
Who were you?
Well, I knew I was Layla, but there was nothing beyond that. I again wrapped my hair up and went into my bedroom dressing into comfy sweats I found in the dresser, and a purple tank top as I headed downstairs, the smell of food overwhelming me.
My head still hurt, but my mom said she wouldn't give me any until I had a full stomach. That forced me to eat against all my want. I had no appetite.
A plate of chicken and Alfredo was set in front of me and I picked up a fork, slurping up the noodles. This was good, and I could tell why it was my favorite.
"Layla?" I heard Allen ask. He barely had any food on his plate and I wondered why he could skip out on dinner, even if he didn't have to take any medication. "If you don't mind..." he trailed off. I gave him a wondering look, encouraging him to finish his thought. "If you don't mind, tomorrow, I would like to tell you what happened. I mean, why you wound up in the hospital in the first place."
I paused, and I wasn't the only one. Everyone seemed to freeze and tense, looking at Allen.
"Allen, honey, I don't think she's ready. I mean she just got home." My mother objected. At first I agreed with her, but then I wondered if Allen was right.
"Well, I can't keep it from her." he said, almost forgetting I was in the room.
"I did't say to keep it from her, but maybe you could tell her later." She was now lightly holding my shoulders. "What do you think?" she asked me.
What was I supposed to say? What if the car accident story scared me?
"I- I don't know." Was all I managed to say.
"You know why I need too." Allen said, looking at my mother.
She breathed in heavily. "Alright. If Layla's okay with it."
And again it was on me. "I'm okay with it." I tried to say, as calmly as possible. Allen nodded his head and stared at his pasta that was clearly going to remain uneaten.
I suddenly wanted to take back what I said. It was too much. I just had came home, and he was going to tell me about the car accident? No way, I couldn't handle it.
But, what if this was for him, and not just me? What if there was something he wanted to confess or honestly tell me? I decided not to be selfish.
I could handle it.
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