Cait Read online

  ©Copyright 2017 - All rights reserved.

  This document is geared towards providing exact and reliable information in regards to the topic and issue covered. The publication is sold with the idea that the publisher is not required to render accounting, officially permitted, or otherwise, qualified services. If advice is necessary, legal or professional, a practiced individual in the profession should be ordered.

  - From a Declaration of Principles which was accepted and approved equally by a Committee of the American Bar Association and a Committee of Publishers and Associations.

  In no way is it legal to reproduce, duplicate, or transmit any part of this document in either electronic means or in printed format. Recording of this publication is strictly prohibited and any storage of this document is not allowed unless with written permission from the publisher. All rights reserved.

  The information provided herein is stated to be truthful and consistent, in that any liability, in terms of inattention or otherwise, by any usage or abuse of any policies, processes, or directions contained within is the solitary and utter responsibility of the recipient reader. Under no circumstances will any legal responsibility or blame be held against the publisher for any reparation, damages, or monetary loss due to the information herein, either directly or indirectly.

  Respective authors own all copyrights not held by the publisher.

  The information herein is offered for informational purposes solely, and is universal as so. The presentation of the information is without contract or any type of guarantee assurance.

  The trademarks that are used are without any consent, and the publication of the trademark is without permission or backing by the trademark owner. All trademarks and brands within this book are for clarifying purposes only and are the owned by the owners themselves, not affiliated with this document.

  ISBN: 978-1-54393-147-1

  Contents

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CHAPTER SIX

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  CHAPTER NINE

  CHAPTER TEN

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  DISCLAIMER

  This novel is a work of pure fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, scenarios and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  This book is for adult audience only. Some parts of this novel contains explicit sexual content, sensitive subjects, mental health, self-harm, language/profanity, which may be considered offensive by some readers.

  NUMBNESS

  “And then all of a sudden

  She changed.

  She came back a completely different person

  With a new mindset, a new outlook,

  A new soul.

  The girl that once cared way too much

  About everyone and everything

  No longer cared at all.”

  CHAPTER ONE

  I jerk awake, gasping for air. Somebody is flashing a bright light on my face. Ouch! What the fuck? With my eyes still closed, I try to slap the person away but catch air. Then, I snap my eyes open. Where is this place? The walls are totally white. I am lying on a bed and . . . wait . . . what? There is an IV line stuck in my vein, and I am hooked to a machine that will not stop beeping at intervals. I do not need anyone to tell me that I’m in a hospital. But hold on! How did I get here? What happened? Who brought me to a hospital? Why?

  I try screaming out, from fear and uncertainty, but my voice is just raspy as I cry out, “Where am I?” The beeping continues. I think it’s the reason why my head will not stop pounding. The mattress I’m lying on is not comfortable at all, and the pillow is so flat that my neck hurts. The material of the bedsheet chafes my skin, reminding me of cloth used in cleaning.

  None of this makes any sense. Why am I in a hospital? Oh, wait! This is surely a dream. I pinch my right arm and silently shout in pain. No. It is definitely happening; this is reality. A very frightening reality. I wriggle my toes, and they respond. That’s good. At least, I know that I can walk. I touch my forehead. There are bandages. That is not a very good sign. Did I have a brain surgery?

  As I’m still trying to understand the situation, the door gently swings open and a somewhat elderly lady walks into the room. By her clothes, it is obvious that she is a nurse. Her blue nursing uniform is stiff as if from starch, giving off a cold and forbidding demeanor. She slowly approaches my bed, and with each step she takes, my apprehension grows. Stopping at the end of my bed, she reaches out for my clipboard and my skin crawls. Stop it, I reprimand myself. I figure that if she wanted to hurt me, she would have done it in my sleep.

  She writes something on the clipboard and finally turns to me. “Hey honey, how are you doing?” she asks me. Surprisingly, her voice is nothing like her stiffly starched uniform. It is soft, sweet, and soothing.

  Now, I am confused. I have many questions on my mind, but those will have to come later, I decide. “My entire body hurts,” I answer, tilting my head to focus my eyes on the name tag pinned to her breast pocket. Bold black letters on a white background read “Rebecca Welsh,” and then underneath, “Winchers Hospital.”

  She leans close to me and briefly places a finger to my forehead. “It’s good that you’re awake now. I must warn you, however, that you will get drowsy when you move around. But not to worry. It is one of the effects of your medication when it kicks in.”

  “Medication? What medication? How did I get here?”

  “Oh sweetheart. You don’t remember at all?”

  “No, I don’t.”

  Nurse Rebecca writes something else on the chart, which she holds in her hand above me. The expression on her face is not pleasant, and I get agitated. I’m about to ask her if my not remembering is a bad thing, though I suspect it is, but before I can do so, the door swings open again.

  A man walks in this time. He is elderly looking, more elderly looking than the woman, with a full head of scruffy grey hair and a grey beard to match. He has a white ward coat on, and I assume that he is a doctor. Behind him walks somebody else, a young boy wearing a sweatshirt and jeans and a beanie over his head. It’s difficult for me to see his face clearly because it is facing the ground, but something about his stance seems familiar.

  Nurse Rebecca turns towards the entrants and calls out a greeting to the man.

  “Good day, doc. You’re welcome.”

  “Good day, Rebecca. How is she doing?”

  “Her vitals are good, but she still hurts from the incident. And she cannot recall what happened.”

  “I see. The memory loss was to be expected. We’ll see about that. Thanks, nurse.”

  The doctor walks up to my bed with the young boy in tow.

  “Hi, Miss Grove. I’m Thomas Allisus, your attending doctor.”

  He beckons the boy to my side. “Your brother is here to see you.”

  Huh? My brother? Tyler, right?

  “Ty?” I mumble falteringly. My brother grabs hold of my arm and plants a kiss on the back of my hand.

  “Cait,”
he replies, still holding onto my hand. “It’s good to see you.” He turns to the nurse. “But she’s been getting better, right?” he asks her.

  “Yeah, she is.”

  Dr. Allisus, who had been studying my chart up until this moment, says, “She will be as fit as a fiddle in no time.”

  Okay, now I am scared shitless. What exactly is going on? Surely, this is a nightmare. But then, it is not. Calm down, calm down. Take a deep breath, you’re going to remember everything soon. This is me trying to convince myself. I almost laugh aloud at the thought.

  The doctor excuses himself and walks with Tyler out of the room. Soon, I hear them conversing outside. I wonder what they are talking about. I try to look out the window from my bed, to see who it is, but Nurse Rebecca walks to the window and shuts the blinds.

  “You need to rest,” she says and then adds, “Just a minute. Don’t move.”

  As if I can, I scoff inwardly.

  She comes back moments later with a tray holding a glass of water and a cup. Placing the tray on my bedside cabinet, she pours me a cup of water. “I figured that you’ll need some. It will help with the cough. Now, drink up.” She hands me the cup.

  “Thanks,” I say, taking a sip. The water is so refreshing and soothing that I gulp it down in seconds.

  “You will be fine in no time. All you need to do is take care of yourself and heed the doctor’s instructions.”

  “But I don’t even know how—”

  We are interrupted by Dr. Allisus who walks in at that moment.

  “Nurse, please, give the young man a hand,” he tells Nurse Rebecca.

  I turn to see what is going on, and it’s my brother Tyler, struggling to get a wheelchair into my hospital room. Nurse Rebecca rushes to his side and helps him wheel it in, until it is parked alongside my bed.

  Whatever happened must have been very serious if I have to be wheeled out. I am still racking my brain. I need something, just one detail to trigger my memory. But nothing is forthcoming. This must be what amnesia feels like; the feeling is totally frustrating.

  Nurse Rebecca pulls out the bottom drawer of my cabinet and brings out some clothes: a shirt, a pair of blue jeans, and one set of underwear. “I got you a change of clothes. You cannot be seen going home in a hospital gown,” she chuckles good-naturedly. “Please excuse us,” she says to Tyler and Dr. Allisus. The both of them leave the room.

  Placing the clothes on the foot of the bed, she helps me up. The effort makes my head spin; the dizziness makes me cringe inwardly. With her help, I get rid of the hospital gown and gently get dressed. The clothes fit, and I briefly wonder how she knew my size. Well, she’s probably the one that got me into the hospital gown and cleaned me up while I was out, I reason. A few minutes later, I’m all changed and ready to leave the confines of the hospital bed, thank heavens.

  She goes out to call Tyler, who comes back into the room, and they both put me in the wheelchair.

  “Stay healthy, honey,” says Nurse Rebecca, kissing me on the cheek. “I hope to be seeing you in better circumstances.”

  “Thank you for taking care of me,” I reply.

  “My pleasure. Now, off you go.”

  Tyler wheels me down the halls, and we meet Dr. Allisus at the hospital entrance.

  “Tyler, please can you excuse your sister and me for a few minutes?” he asks my brother.

  “Alright, doc.”

  The doctor takes hold of the wheelchair and wheels me to one of the outdoor chairs built on the hospital premises. He makes my chair face him and then takes a seat. “Feeling better now?”

  “Not much different from a few minutes ago. I still haven’t recalled how I got to be in a hospital bed.”

  “That is understandable. We conducted a scan which shows that you suffered temporary memory loss. But do not panic; your memory will be back in no time. You will be told what went wrong later on. I’ll see you soon to properly explain.”

  I sit quietly in shock, trying to process what the doctor has just told me. I can’t even remember one detail of what he spoke about. Now, I’m wondering if I’ll get my memory back at this rate. My thoughts are interrupted again by the doctor’s voice.

  “You will be going home to rest and recuperate now. I’ll be coming around to check up on you and see how you’re being settled in. A counselor has been arranged for you, though that would be when you are strong enough, not immediately. No bright lights at night for now, no excessive intake of sugar either. And stay off the booze if you want your memory back. Tyler has your medications and I trust him to see that you take them as required. Now, I’ll leave you to go home. Take care of yourself.”

  Though my head is still reeling from everything I have just been told, I manage to let out a word of thanks. Dr. Allisus calls to my brother, who is standing under one of the maple trees on the hospital grounds, and he saunters towards me, all lanky and serious looking.

  “See you around, doc,” he says, shaking the man’s hand. Tyler slowly wheels me to the parking lot. The weather is a bit windy, and I feel cold. As if on cue, Tyler pulls off his jumper and hands it to me. I briefly remember Nurse Rebecca practically dressing me up, and I smile.

  Since we are heading to the parking lot, I guess that Tyler came with a car. I cannot remember if he has a car or not. We get to a shiny red Volkswagen, and he stops. Fishing out a key from his pocket, he opens the passenger door and helps me get in. Now inside, I am able to observe my surroundings properly. In front of me, above the front pillars of the hospital entrance, is a huge carved sign which says, “WINCHERS HOSPITAL.” That first word sounds familiar. Something is coming back to me, but I can’t quite grasp it. Interesting.

  Tyler puts the wheelchair in the back seat and gets in behind the wheel. He rests his head on the headrest of the chair for a couple of minutes and then lets out a heavy sigh. All this time, he does not speak a word to me. I wonder what is bothering him. I almost ask, but change my mind. He will talk when he is ready to.

  “Is the car yours?” I ask. That is not what I want to ask, but it is better than nothing.

  Taking a long, deep breath, he answers. “No,” he says shortly, cranking up the engine.

  “Where are we going?” I venture again.

  “Home.”

  Okay, I get it. He does not want to talk. What about I just keep my mouth shut. Maybe then I will remember what happened prior to this day. Or I can just rest my eyes and when I wake up, this will all be one bad dream.

  CHAPTER TWO

  I wake up, and I’m still in the car with Tyler. It must have been a very short nap indeed. Or a long way to home. Tyler is staring straight ahead, with a frown on his face. I need answers. I need to know what went wrong.

  “How come I was in the hospital, Ty? Why can’t I remember anything?”

  Holding my breath, I wait for him to give me an answer. Then, I begin to fidget with the bracelet that I just noticed is on my wrist. Was it there before? It must have been; I probably did not notice it then. There are words engraved on it, and I peer closely.

  GROVE CAITLYN

  7 July 2000

  178 876 6556

  Tyler finally answers, if you would call his response an answer to my question. He says,

  “You will get an explanation soon.”

  “Huh?”

  What does he mean by that? Soon? What is going on around here? This makes me panic even more.

  “Tyler what the f—”

  “We’re here.”

  I use my borrowed sweatshirt sleeve to wipe the fogged-up car window. A sidewalk lined with warm-colored maple trees fills the neighborhood. The home mismatches the image from my dream. I don’t ever recall living here. We pull up to the driveway; I take one more moment to study this big, beautiful house. What a place. The front door already scares me. Boxes are scattered around as if we’ve recently
moved.

  He parks and no sooner than he stops the car that a woman rushes out of the house calling my name.

  “Caitlyn! Oh, my lord!” She charges at me, hugging tightly. I hear her crying softly, and I wonder what is making her cry. Next thing, she is yelling close to my ear.

  “Hazel, your sister’s here!”

  I have a sister named Hazel? The plot thickens. Enough is enough!

  I tug away from this crazy lady, and with a strength that I did not know I had, I stride towards the house, not even needing the wheelchair. However, I still feel a bit dizzy. There is a lounge area to the left side, and I move towards it.

  “Is somebody going to tell me what the hell is happening?” I say, almost yelling, while sinking into one of the chairs in the lounge. A young lady comes out of the house to stand beside the woman. She has brown hair, same color as Tyler’s. A pair of moon-shaped glasses is perched on her upturned nose. I suppose this is my sister, Hazel.

  She slowly walks towards me. “Cait?” She says my name like a question, as if she is not sure that I’m the one. I look up at her. “We are happy to have you home.”

  “What happened to me? I did not understand what the doctor said.”

  “I thought as much,” said a voice from behind me. It was Dr. Allisus. He had been sitting in the shadows, and in my huffing and puffing, I did not see him.

  “I thought you would still be confused,” he continued. “From my experience with patients with this kind of injury, I knew that I had to be present when you settled back in with your family. The reason you were hospitalized is that you had been in a catastrophic car accident with your aunt Deserae. We are in the middle of running tests for you, although I’m afraid that Mrs. Bloom will be hospitalized longer. She may not be able to recover fully.”

  “Where’s Mom? Dad?” I ask them. The woman and the doctor exchange glances. Tyler is leaning against the car that is not his, observing everything that is going on.

  Dr. Allisus takes a chair beside me, just like at the hospital.

  “Caitlyn, your mom has been dead for a while now. Your dad has not been around in years, either.”