21
“Retro-what?” I asked my doctor as she yapped medical jargons all the way.
“Ret-ro-grade am-ne-sia,” Doctor Martin said, enunciating each syllable slowly, which actually made the whiteness of her teeth gleam against the Hawaiian inspired lampshade on her desk. She rubbed the sides of her temples as she stared at my now blank face.
I wanted to tell her that I was just a mere Senior high school student and that I did not understand more than half of what she just said, but then again I was the one who sort of guilt tripped her to doing this so basically I really had no right to complain.
“This amnesia causes your recent memories to be lost whilst sparing your remote memories, that’s like your childhood memories or memories that happened months and years prior to the incident. Semantic and Procedural memories are also spared, those explain why you can still remember the first or the fortieth president and remember how to read or write,” she carried on, adjusting her glasses as she did so.
In all fairness to her, she was really trying her best to explain to me what Retrograde Amnesia was all about, so I nodded my head at her explanation and as a matter of fact I actually understood what she said.
“So, can I still remember my lost memories?” I asked her drawling on my words. I was actually quite conscious that I’d show her how ignorant I actually was.
Her smile was forced, I could tell because it looked like she was biting her cheeks from the inside and the look in her eyes had pity written all over its greenness, and in that moment I could actually tell what she was about to say next.
“Usually, from the patients I had before, they weren’t able to remember those memories at all. Actually, events that happened nearest to the cause of the memory loss is almost always never recovered,” Doctor Martin replied and God I never knew it was possible to lose hope until now.
My face fell at what I heard and his face was the first thing that came to my mind, the face that reminded me of a bitter cold Winter we never experienced, yet deep down inside was a heart resembling a warm and blooming summer, so loving and caring and bright. My heart was close to breaking and I was sorry, I was so sorry that I failed him, and most importantly I failed myself.
Doctor Martin studied my face like it was one of her samples sprawled on a Petri dish and studied under a microscope, “don’t worry, they say nothing’s impossible right? Maybe you could be the exception.”
I smiled at her attempt to cheer me up and thanked her for her time. I just don’t know what to do next now that I’ve uncovered the medical aspect of this gosh forsaken disease, and it sounded even worse than what I had in mind.
As I went out of her office, I saw Claude sitting on one of those metallic hospital chairs that seemed to be connected to one another by solid metal bars. He was holding a magazine in hand, something with an architectural structure on its front cover. I smiled at my brother, yep he’s going to study Architecture in college, I’m almost sure with that.
“So how did it go?” He asked as he looked up from his magazine.
I didn’t expect to get all teary-eyed at his question but I just ran to him and he understandingly wrapped me in his embrace. I tried to stifle my cry but it was too late, tears were starting to fall on his shoulders.
“There there sis,” he said as he ran his fingers through my hair, “it’s okay, you’ll recover soon.”
I snorted at that as I pulled away from him, “she said there’s a huge possibility that I won’t be able to remember the memories I’ve lost.”
Claude just flashed me a huge smile, “well the answer’s simple right?” He replied in his usual know-it-all tone, “you just look at the tiny possibility because anything could happen right?”
I smiled at him in return. Doctor Martin said something similar to what my twin brother said, being the exception, the tiny possibility. Could this be a sign from the heavens, a sign that somehow someday my memories could be recovered?
I smiled, at the optimistic thought running within my mind. I know it’s not much to hope about but as long as I’m breathing and capable of recalling what Claude wore on the Halloween of 2006 than maybe yes, maybe there’s a chance for me to solve this puzzle, no matter how small the possibility is.
~
“Ma belle chérie, why does your smile shine brighter than the stars?”
I stared at the piece of paper in between my cold fingers. Unlike some of Aiden’s notes this one was short and it had a doodle of the night sky at the bottom part, it was done in scratchy black lines but I really like the crescent moon resting in between a field of doodle stars. I smiled because it’s funny now to think that the guy I currently like used to date me and send me lovey-dovey letters.
A knock on my door brought me out of my thoughts. I brushed my fingers absentmindedly against my cheek; I didn’t notice that they’ve gone hotter as I got flustered over my own thoughts.
“Asia, dinner is ready,” I heard Cade’s voice from outside my door, “I know you’ve been wanting to eat Lasagna since Monday.”
I heard a growl from somewhere inside my stomach and I was glad nobody else but myself could hear it, “I’m kind of not feeling well,” I replied.
“Alright then,” Cade said as he gave my door another knock, “if you won’t come out for the Lasagna, then the Lasagna would be the one to get in there for you.”
“Okay,” I replied in a nonchalant tone as I listened to Cade’s fading footsteps. I just didn’t have the heart to reject him, I mean Cade is the nicest person I have as a friend right now, so the best thing I could do is be grateful, even if it meant having to eat despite my unwillingness to do so.
I crawled towards the edge of my bed as I stretched my body outside it, in a futile attempt to reach the memory box from the floor. I knew I was struggling but I was seriously too lazy to climb out of bed and walk towards the box.
Once I was successful, I grabbed the turtle keychain and studied the date written on it, May 8. I was willing to bet that that was the day I said yes to him. Knowing myself, I would want to keep only one small souvenir for a special event may it be a Mickey Mouse pin on my first time visiting Disneyland, a black and red arm band on my first rock concert-Bon Jovi, of course and then a turtle keychain for the day I said yes to my first ever boyfriend.
Determined to trace the events of our relationship, I grabbed the next significant looking date in the memory box and that was a piece of rectangular paper which I’ve come to learn was a receipt for some sort of guitar. July 16 was written on it and beside the date was a drawing of a heart balloon and some weird looking confetti doodle. I’m not really good with remembering birthdays but judging by the side doodles beside the date, I would assume that July 16 is Aiden’s birthday, exactly 2 months and 8 days after we became an official couple.
As I browsed through the contents, I’ve learned that on July 31, I’ve successfully dared Aiden to go on a rollercoaster ride in a nearby amusement park, which was also entirely odd since I never ask someone to do a dare unless someone dared me first or vice versa. It actually made me wonder what Aiden dared me to do or was I completely another person prior to the amnesia incident.
The dates stopped on August 5. I wonder when the accident happened. All I could remember was staying in the hospital for three weeks and then five days of staying at home before school started. I tried to dial Emerald’s number but my call was sent to voicemail. I dialed Claude’s number instead, thankfully he answered on the second ring.
“Asia?” I heard his sleepy voice from the other side of the line.
“Claude can I ask you a question?” I asked.
“Are you stalking your past relationship again A? Because if I get sued for this-“
“You moron, yes you can call it stalking but I was just going to ask you when did I get myself in the hospital?” I rambled the words, quite impatiently this time.
“Can’t remember properly, I think it was August 6,” he said and I could just imagine him scratching his head while trying to remember, “do you want me to ask mom or dad?”
“No, I’m fine, maybe it’s really August 6,” I replied as I looked at the last date inside my memory box.
I hung up after thanking my twin and then a feeling of excited rush coursed through my body. I know it may not be much but at least I’ve got some sort of timeline formed inside my mind. I considered August 6 and then counted the days. If I got out of the hospital on August 28, then it would be exactly five days to September 2, the first day of school this year!
‘Eureka,’ I thought, feeling proud of myself as I pieced the dates together. Now the question is what exactly happened on August 6 that caused all this drama to fall into our lives?