My back was facing my parents as they talked amongst themselves. I knew they thought I was asleep, and for that I was glad. I'd been stuck in the hospital for three days. Every single day has ended with the doctors feeding me bits and pieces of my 'condition' and what's going on with me.
I now know that they all think I'm eighteen and am college bound. However, I can't seem to wrap my brain around their train of thought. In my mind, I was thirteen, in sixth grade, and just fell out of a treehouse...
"She needs help, Brinda. I know a good psychiatric ward a few towns over-" I heard my father say in a tone, just above a whisper.
Mother cut him off with a loud gasp. "You can't be serious, Walker! You think, Elle, should go to a psychiatric ward? She has memory loss, not some other kind of mental illness a psychiatric ward helps with ... She needs familiar people, Walker. Not strangers in white scrubs and padded rooms." My mother's voice cracked towards the end and I knew that she was on the verge of crying her eyes out, again.
"Have you told her about Peter? Have you told her about Kat and Randall?" My dad asked with a slightly raised voice.
Turning over in my bed to face them, I furrowed my eyebrows. No one in the past three days had said one word about Peter or Randall. It was then that I realized that none of them had come and visited me. That was odd behavior for Randall to not come visit or call me. We had a habit of making sure we at least talk to each other every day.
Plus, even though Peter and I fight all the time, he never leaves my side when I'm sick or in trouble. "What about Peter and Randall?" Because I'd hardly said any words in the past few days, my question came off in a raspy tone.
My mother looked at me. "What did you say, Honey?" She inquired as she got off the couch and walked over to me. The moment she reached me she reached out and touched my hair. My mother started to run her fingers through my hair, in a calming manner.
I knew her actions only meant one thing: that she was hiding something from me.
"Where are Peter and Randall?" I choked out.
Father strolled over to me. Instead of standing next to my mom, he stood at the end of my bed – clearly being distant. That was one of the many things I was picking up on recently.
I could tell that because he was being distant, I had done something to anger him. My theory proved correct when I looked into his eyes and saw a flame of anger twinkling.
Also, I noted that he isn't as close to my mom as I last remembered... "Elle," my dad began. "Peter, Randall, and Kat were in the car with you," he stated with no emotion.
I arched an eyebrow at a name he spoke of, "Kat? The new girl at school?"
Continuing to run her hand through my blond locks, my mother shook her head. "Honey, Kat is your best friend, along with Randall. You and Kat have been friends since the sixth grade when she transferred to your school."
I gulped, thinking that Randall and I's pinkie promise really did break. Kat did end up worming her way into our friendship and for a second I was upset. However, every thought stopped when I realized my father said they were in the car with me. "What happened to them?"
"Peter is fine," Mother began to say but Father cut her off.
"Don't lie to the girl! Peter is comatose. Randall and Kat are-"
"Walker! Stop it! She doesn't have to know every single detail! It'll overwhelm her!" Ma shrieked as she dropped her hand from my hair. I swear she looked as if she was seconds from popping a blood vessel as she glared at my dad. "I think it's time you leave." Her words were filled with venom and anger as she continued to narrow her eyes at Dad.
He looked at me, "it's her choice, Brinda. Do you want to know what happened, Elle?"
"It's not her choice, Walker! Mentally, she's thirteen-years-old! Now, I'll not ask you again, leave." Ma's tone was final and I knew that Father couldn't reckon with it.
His eyes cast down on the white tile floor before he somberly walked out of the room without even a second glance at Mom or me.
My eyes started to water up and I felt like my world -- my reality -- was crumbling before me. "Why aren't you with Peter?" I questioned.
Mom placed her hand over mine, "I've been visiting him every time you've slept. There's no change in his condition. The nurses are going to alert me the second he wakes up. Right now, while you're awake, I need to be with you. I know this is hard, Elle. You're being thrown in a world where nothing seems right." Leaning down, mom placed a kiss on my forehead. "I love you, Elle," she muttered before standing back up straight.
I gave a loose grin, "love you too, Ma ... and ... you know ... you can tell me..."
"Hmmm?"
"About Randall ... and Kat. It will overwhelm me, but I need to hear it," I spoke as my smile faded to show I was serious.
Closing her eyes for a second, Mom sighed. "They tried, Elle. They tried saving them..."
All the oxygen left my body and I felt a lump form in the back of my throat. Tears were pleading to be released from my eyes, but I tried to not cry. "They're dead?" I asked the obvious.
Mom opened her eyelids and studied me, she was clearly trying to see how I was reacting. "I'm sorry, Elle..."
"Say it, please ... just say it." I demanded as I felt as if I must hear her say it without beating around the bush when it came to her words.
"Kat and Randall are dead."
I gave a huge inhale before I allowed myself to cry. The water works wouldn't stop, even when my mom enveloped me in a hug, only a mom could give.
I cried as I remembered Randall and how much I loved him - more than my teddy bear, Hiccups -- okay that was a bad comparison to my love for Randall ... but I loved him, so much. He was my other half.
However, I also found myself crying for the death of Kat. I might not know her in my memory, but there was, without a doubt, a special spot in my heart for her.
Rubbing circles on my back, Mom shhhed me. "Shhh, Elle, it will be okay..." Her came off in the softest tone I'd ever heard.
Nuzzling my teary face in my mother's shoulder, I gripped her tighter hoping that her words were true. Yet, sitting there, I knew nothing was alright and okay. My best friend was dead and my brother was in a coma.
Thinking about my brother for a minute longer, I decided something. Pulling away from my mom, I looked her directly in the eye. "Can I see him?"
"Who? Peter?" Mother asked with inquisitive eyes.
I nodded, "yeah. I just really need to see him ... I think it will help me realize that this all is real."
Mom stood up tall and straight. I could see she was having an internal battle of what to do. "Elle, I'm not sure if you are ready," she proclaimed. Wringing her hands, nervously, she shook her head. "No, Elle. I don't think it is wise..."
Sighing, I glanced over at my mom. "Please, I really want to see my brother..."
Her shoulder shagged after a minute and I knew that meant she had given in. Looking at me, Mom told me that she was going to get the nurse so she can see if I could leave the room and also see if I was even allowed to go see Peter. With another kiss to my forehead, Ma walked out of the room.
I sighed once more and leaned down more into my bed. Turning my head, I looked out the window that was to my right. I was on one of the very top floors, so I got a skyline view of the city that was around me. I smiled as I saw birds fly outside my window. Within a second my smile fluttered into a frown because I realized those birds were free. As of that very moment, I wanted to do nothing more than leave the room I was trapped in. I was sick and tired of being in the single room they placed me in. Yet, the idea of getting out of the room and going to see my brother did make me slightly happier...
Peter...
The single thought of his name made my eyes water up because I was at a loss of thoughts and words when it came to him.
Closing my eyes, I tried to once again remember what had happened the night of the wreck.
Nothing changed, however, whenever I shut my eyelids. I always was enveloped by darkness before seeing the bottom of the treehouse and feeling myself free fall down.
There was one thing I couldn't shake, like before, the sound of glass shattering.
I told Dr. Rose about that, she says that she is certain I am remembering the wreck. Her words were that it is normal to remember sounds and smells before 'images'. Dr. Rose also told me that because of the mere fact I am remembering the glass shattering sound that my memory will come back, over time.
I can't express how much I wish I can remember, now not later. I'm tired of being sheltered by my mother. It has been killing me over the past few days that she has been acting like I was china glass doll. Ever action she does towards me is calculated. It is as if she is afraid of what I will do and is unsure of my mental well-being.
I've gotta say I was surprised earlier when she didn't take my father's offer to send me to a psychiatric ward. If you had asked me before she denied his offer, if she would accept it, I would have told you without a second's thought: yes.
"Elle," a voice said making me break from my train of thought.
Blinking a few times, I looked to the left side of me.
Standing next to my bedside, I saw a handsome young man that looked to be in his late teens, early twenties. He had dark hair, almost black looking, with strikingly green eyes. Eyes that made me feel as if I knew him ... without a doubt I did, before the accident...
"Hi," I weakly said for I felt bad that I couldn't remember who the guy standing next to me was.
Giving me a small smile, full of pity, he sighed. "I know you don't know who I am-"
"Enlighten me," I exclaimed for I wanted to know who he was to me. Part of me actually started to hope that he was more than a friend because he was F.I.N.E. I mean, seriously, he was hot. The guy before me had the sexist face and a body that was clearly chiseled out in toned muscles.
"I'm Bryson Wyatt ... your fiancé -- secret fiancé."
My heart fluttered for the fact that I had wished he was more than a friend to me, but I was expecting like a boyfriend ... not a fiancé and most certainly not a "secret fiancé?"
He nodded before pulling over a chair that was a few feet behind him. Sitting down next to me, he gave me a smile that made my insides melt. "Yeah, you wanted to keep our relationship a secret for some reason you refused to elaborate on. I knew you would chop me in half if I came here. You always asked me to say away from you when you were around your family and friends ... I couldn't stay away, Elle. I couldn't go another day without seeing your face. I know you don't remember me and our love ... but Elle, we were in love." A tear escaped one of his eyes.
"A week ago," he explained, "you and I snuck out of our houses and met at a park we loved to meet at. I told you that night that I couldn't see myself waking up and not staring at your face. I asked you to marry me because I couldn't survive one single day without you, Elle. I know if you had your memory, you'd be shouting at me to leave before a family member of yours comes back in ... but Elle, I love you and I can't leave. I am putting my foot down. I refuse to leave this room. I wanna be here for you..."
I felt a headache coming on because I was trying to make myself remember Bryson. Yet, when I thought his name all I could feel was a strong emotion ... however, I couldn't decipher what the heavy emotion was ... could it be love?
Looking in Bryson's eyes I searched for what he was thinking, yet all I saw staring back at me was sadness.
I've no idea what came over me, but I grabbed his hand and shook my head. "I don't remember you, Bryson. But I honestly, I don't want you to leave." I'd no idea where the words came from, but they leaked out of my mouth without so much as a second thought.
Bryson gave me a smirk and lifted up my hand that was placed over his. Slowly, he kissed each one of my knuckles before setting our intertwined hands down on my bed. "Thank you, Elle."
I gave a small grin. "No need ... but Bryson?"
He arched an eyebrow at me, "yeah?"
"Help me. Help me out of here and help me remember. No one here is really helping me remember my past. They are feeding me bits and pieces. I want out of here, Bryson. I want to taste the world for what it is, not for what people are telling me. If you are my fiancé, then please, help me."
Looking at me with eyes that made my cheeks turn red, Bryson nodded. "I will do my best, Dear."
I grinned in satisfaction. Well, at least I did something right in the past five years ... I met a very cute guy. However, I wonder why I kept our relationship a secret. Glancing at him I knew my parents would like him, brother might not like him but he would have warmed up ... there was something off ... but right then and there I didn't care because I knew I felt something for this green eyed boy ... and I was starting to believe it was love... I mean, what else could it be?