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  “Wait. What?” I feel my heart drop and my eyes begin to water. No. No. No. Everything becomes blurry from all the sudden tears. Dr. Allisus continues to talk, but I can’t listen. My headache worsens, and the room begins to spin.

  “Caitlyn, I am truly so sorry for all of this. I—”

  I know that I wanted information, but this is too much. The dizziness comes back with full force, and I feel darkness envelop me.

  CHAPTER THREE

  The room is big and beautiful. On the cream-colored walls are drawings of flowers and butterflies. There is a finely carved table near the open window and a king-sized bed in the middle of the room. The bed is not empty. In fact, there are two people, a young man and a girl about his age lying on it, totally naked. I am floating above them.

  Although they are talking to each other, I cannot hear what they are saying. Then, the man grabs the woman’s buttocks and begins to grind against her. She is moaning softly, and then she begins to kiss him hungrily, making purring sounds. I cannot see who they are. It looks like the young man is talking. “Caitlyn? Caitlyn?”

  I wake up in cold sweat. It was a dream. Something cold is touching my forehead, so I open my eyes. I am lying on a bed, but not a hospital bed this time. Hazel is wiping my face with a damp towel. I push myself to a sitting position and look around the room. It is a colorful room with posters of exotic-looking women on the wall. There is a standing mirror beside a table and chair. Books are stacked on the table, and there is a radio on it, too.

  “You have been out since yesterday,” Hazel informs me.

  “Oh?”

  “Yeah. You fainted while Dr. Allisus was talking to you. Ty carried you up here.”

  I look at the time on the radio; it’s 10:27 a.m. “Who is the woman that welcomed me?”

  “That is Susan Windelle, Leah’s mother. She lives next door and comes around once in a while since we moved here. But she has gone back to work. She’s a very busy woman.”

  “Okay. So, we live alone?”

  “More or less.”

  “I see.”

  “Dr. Allisus will be here soon, and he’d like to speak to you when you’re ready to get up. Take as long as you need.”

  “Okay.”

  Why is this happening? For some minutes, we both stay in silence. Then, I break it. “Can I have my bath?”

  “Of course. That is the bathroom. There’s running water, so whenever you’re ready.”

  “I am now.”

  Hazel helps me get out of bed, and when I tell her that I am okay, she excuses herself to go and set up the meals.

  I walk towards the mirror. I want to . . . no, I need to see what I look like. Standing in front of the mirror, a young woman is looking back at me. She has bra length auburn hair. She is tall with a slender build. Her face is pretty, with a pert nose and full lips. Hmmm! Not bad at all. I do not look bad.

  Now, what to wear. I go to the wardrobe and open it. There are clothes everywhere. Denims, shirts, blouses, gowns. They smell kind of musty, like they’ve been in a bag for a while. I remember the boxes in front of the house and Hazel saying that we just moved. I pull out a pair of jeans and a chiffon blouse. Automatically, I open the drawer built into the wardrobe—underwear. I get a peach-colored bra and matching cotton panties. Now, time to bathe.

  Placing the clean clothes on the bed, I strip and walk into the bathroom. As if born out of habit, I run water in the tub, and then climb in. I reach for the soap and sponge beside me and start up a lather. As I wash my left arm, I notice white horizontal scars close to my wrist, about ten to fifteen of them. I look at my right arm, and it’s the same thing. I realize the significance of the scars. Turning on the faucet for hot water, I let it burn my body and collapse into a heap of tears. I do not know how long I spend in the tub, but I am sure it is more than an hour. Climbing out, I reach for my towel and wrap it around me. Water is dripping from my hair, but I do not care. I walk into my bedroom and get dressed. The doctor is waiting, so I might as well go downstairs and see him, get this over with.

  I keep getting the feeling that I could’ve prevented all of this from occurring. I still don’t get why I can’t remember anything; my mind is blank. Okay, stop overthinking. Time to get some more answers even if I don’t want to hear them. Someone’s crying from downstairs. I think it’s Hazel. Great.

  “Thank you so much. I really appreciate it. It’s been tough, now that things will not be the same for a while . . . Caitlyn?”

  My sister is at the kitchen table with the doctor, picking up a bunch of tissues that are scrunched on the table. Hazel heads straight to the other room like she’s trying to avoid me.

  “Caitlyn, good morning. Are you feeling better?”

  “No.” I just shrug.

  “I’m sorry, that was silly of me to ask.” He clears his throat. “I came down early to see you. Look, you obviously have a lot on your mind right now and I’m sure a lot of questions too. We will get to that.”

  I take a seat across from him, picking at my bracelet from underneath the table. Dr. Allisus spreads out some papers attached to a file in front of him. “The first time we talked was when you had finally woken up in the hospital. I asked a few questions, but I didn’t exactly get many words out, you were too busy panicking. Do you recall waking up then?”

  I shake my head. Maybe now is the time to ask him. “Um . . . exactly how long was I in the hospital for?”

  “You were in a coma for three months. It was a very serious accident.”

  I wonder how someone would react if they were told that they’d been hospitalized in a coma for three months. Would they cry, maybe wonder what went wrong? Not me; I just feel completely numb. Dr. Allisus is trying the best he can to explain everything to me. I can’t help but tune out most of what he is saying because none of this seems like it is real, even though it is; guess I’m just denying it all.

  After what seems like hours talking to this man, he pulls out a piece of paper from the file and signs something on it.

  “Prescription for more painkillers. After yesterday’s incident, I feel that you need them.”

  Then he turns to Hazel. “Get her these drugs as soon as you can, my dear. Make sure she gets plenty of rest for the next few weeks. I’ll keep in touch regularly. If you need anything, don’t hesitate to call. And when Caitlyn gets better, and wants to see her aunt, she can come by and see her sometime.” The doctor hands my sister the prescription sheet as she walks him to the front door.

  “Thank you so much,” she says.

  The door shuts, and Hazel comes back inside. She goes to the sink and begins to wash the dishes. She scrubs a pot vigorously, her face squeezed in concentration.

  “When can I see Aunt Deserae?” I ask.

  My sister turns around, her eyes red and irritated. “Caitlyn . . . you should eat or have something to drink. The doctor said to keep your fluids up.”

  I have to go back to the hospital and see Aunt Deserae, even if I don’t want to. Maybe I will get some answers by going there. Again, my question is being avoided, which has been happening quite a bit since I got back here.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  May 1995

  High school sweethearts, that is what we are. It’s been months now since we started dating. It was love at first sight. It might sound very cliché, but that is what happened. The first moment we laid eyes on each other was at a football match. Noah is a jock playing for the Faders. I just happen to be a cheerleader for his team. I’m sixteen to his eighteen. Before we started dating, Noah would try so hard to get my attention. It was embarrassing, but in a cute way; that’s what he told me. I can’t recall him trying to get to me. I would have noticed.

  Anyone could tell he really liked me, and I liked him too. After playing hard to get for a few weeks, I finally gave in and we began dating. We’ve had to sneak in and out of our ho
uses to go see each other. My parents are very strict. My dad is a Sunday school teacher, and Mom is a disciplinarian, the strictest parents I know.

  Deserae has found out about our relationship, and it was by chance. Deserae is my younger sister by two years. She saw us making out in the park one evening. I asked her not to tell anyone, and she agreed.

  The past few weeks have been the worst. I have spent most of my time lying on the couch every other day, surrounded by pillows and blankets, watching TV. I must say that it is the only distraction I can find right now. This is the only way to forget the depressing doctor’s appointments, countless tests, and therapy sessions. I even hear talk of school enrollment. I am in no way ready to think of that now.

  My memory of anything that happened before or after the crash is hazy, and it kills me not knowing everything. I want so badly to be able to piece my thoughts together. Hazel and Tyler have refused to tell me anything, saying that I need to heal first.

  I went to visit Aunt Des last week and was only allowed about five minutes with her. That was all the time I could handle anyway. Being in that room with her, seeing the state she’s in, was too much for me. There were wires everywhere and needles stuck to different parts of her body. Her life support machine was beeping and blinking, as though to remind everyone that if it was not there, she would be dead. While I was at the hospital, Uncle Rick, her husband, came by with their little daughter Eve to sign some papers. I tried to imagine what was going through his mind at that point.

  Tyler has been here in the living room, some nights where we would be on the couch watching TV. Barely any conversations go on between the two of us. He basically asks how I have been and then sits down for a while. Then he just disappears for the rest of the day.

  Presently, I check to see the time on the TV, and it is only seven in the morning. Maybe I should go have a shower. Yeah, I definitely need a shower. There’s a French fry stuck in my hair. I can’t even remember eating any French fries.

  I find my way to my bedroom. A box is sitting beside the wardrobe. Apart from the table, chair, bed, and mirror, my bedroom is practically empty, kind of like the way I feel right now. The posters offer me some sort of comfort.

  I jump into the tub and turn on the shower. The water calms me down as it runs down my hair to my body. I begin to hum a tuneless melody. After toweling myself dry, I find a fresh change of clothes, get dressed, and then go downstairs.

  Hazel is lying on the couch, where she had been since sometime early this morning. She is barricading herself with a pillow and staring blankly at the TV. I doubt she would notice if I turned it off.

  I sit on the couch beside her and she notices.

  “Hey! How are you feeling?”

  “So-so.”

  “Should I make you pancakes?”

  “No, I’m not hungry.”

  “Drink some orange juice then. You have meds to take, and you cannot do that on an empty stomach.”

  Walking to the fridge, I open it and bring out a bottle of orange juice. I find a glass and pour myself some. Then, I turn to my sister. “Is it okay if I go out for a walk? I’d rather not stay here with my thoughts today.”

  At least I can clear my head, get my mind off things. Not even thinking about where I would go, I finish drinking the glass of orange juice that I just poured.

  “Where would you want to go?” Hazel yawns, her voice still half asleep.

  We had stayed up all night watching some cheesy reality TV show.

  “I forgot how much you look like Mom.” Her smile drops slowly.

  “Um, I’m not sure yet. Anywhere but here,” I say, ignoring her comment.

  “Actually, I thought about this, so I made arrangements,” she mumbles, fixing the pillows and blankets aside.

  “What’s the arrangement? Is it to make me remember everything? I mean, because that would be great.”

  The doorbell rings, interrupting us.

  “I’ll get it.” I rush to the door before my sister does. A girl who seems to be around my age is standing on our doorstep. “Hi, can I help you?” I smile, taking a long glance at her. She has curly golden hair that is almost at her waist. Her eyes are wide set and blue. She has her hands tucked into the back pockets of her faded jeans.

  “Hi! I’m Leah. I live next door to you. Is Hazel here?” she asks.

  Leah. The daughter of the yelling woman I met the day I came back, I’m guessing. What does she want with Hazel? I call out to my sister, but she’s already casting over me like a shadow. She smiles at the girl. “Hey, I’m glad you’re here.” Hazel turns to me. “Caitlyn, this is Leah, our next-door neighbor. I thought it would be great if you two met. And since you mentioned something about wanting to go out, this is a great way to start. You girls can get to know each other. Leah is around your age, and she attends Winchers High. That’s where you’ll be going. So, it would not hurt to have a friend there before you even start.”

  I feel like saying I changed my mind about doing anything. After all, I wanted to take a walk alone. But I do not want to make the situation more awkward. I hope Hazel did not force her. Besides, she looks nice.

  “Oh yeah, when are you going?” Leah flicks her hair out of her face.

  “As soon as I can. As soon as I get better.”

  “You seem keen to start school. Not many people are.” She chuckles softly.

  “Come on in,” Hazel invites her. “Cait, go get ready.”

  “I am ready.”

  “Alright. Close the door after you. I am going upstairs.”

  She says goodbye to Leah and climbs the stairs.

  “Hey,” says Leah, turning to face me. “I know this may seem a bit sudden or forward, but do you want to come over to my house? I have a couple of friends coming over soon and they go to the same school as well. You can meet them.”

  “Oh! Alright...” On second thought, right now, I want to be anywhere but here.

  As I follow Leah out the door, closing it behind me and beginning to walk across the front yard with her, I try building a conversation. “So, when did you move here?”

  “Almost a year ago. Your sister told me you also moved here not too long before then,” she answers quickly.

  “How did you two meet?”

  “Well, she came over to say hi as we were unloading when we first arrived here. Hazel seems chill. Is your sister always like that?” She smiles.

  “I guess.”

  We are already on her front porch. She holds the door open for me.

  “Thanks.” I take a step inside waiting for Leah to lead the way.

  “My room is upstairs. Please follow me.” Leah points towards the stairs, and we walk up. We get to the top, and she walks towards a door to the right. She pushes her door open, revealing a room in the first stages of disorganization. There are some books and a backpack on the bed. She stuffs the books inside the backpack and dumps it in the corner. Moments later, the doorbell goes off.

  “Coming!” she hollers to whoever it is.

  “You can sit anywhere you like,” she says, tossing me her iPod. “Pick any music of your choice, so we can listen to something. I’ll be right back. Seems like the others are here already.”

  I sit on the bed scrolling through her music. She has really good taste, a variety of genres. I like that. From what I have been able to pick up these past few weeks, I grew up with my parents’ style of music. My memory is not fully back, but I am making progress. I can vaguely remember going through my dad’s vinyl records as a kid. There’s this song that has been playing in my head lately for no apparent reason. I just don’t know what it is called, but it feels like I know it from somewhere. Leah comes back into the room and sits by the windowsill. Two new faces are with her.

  “Caitlyn, I want you to meet a pair of crazy fools, Hanna Karnegy and Charlie, her brother. Don’t be stunned if t
hey look alike. They’re twins. But they are two completely different people though, trust me.

  “Guys, this is Caitlyn, my next-door neighbor. She’s starting at Winchers soon.”

  The girl slumps onto the bed next to me, throwing her bag onto the ground. “Hey Caitlyn, I’m Hanna. I thought I’d let you know because of our similar haircuts. So you don’t mistake me for this silly child.” Her light brown hair is cut short, but it does not make people mistake her for Charlie as she jokes.

  “I like your hair,” I say.

  “Thanks!” Hanna picks up a cushion from the bed and throws it to Charlie’s face, knocking him out.

  Charlie carefully falls backward onto a bean bag in Leah’s room, saying, “Hey!”

  “See I told you that this do works for me!” she hisses.

  “Ahh, good ol’ Nirvana. Kurt Cobain was such a babe. Am I right?”

  The next song starts playing. I see it’s “All Apologies” by Nirvana. Wait. This is the song that’s been playing in my head for how long now. I don’t know why. What a coincidence; I was just wondering what it’s called. Charlie’s face appears to still be in shock from getting hit by that cushion.

  His face is slightly similar to that of his sister. Except his hair is dark brown and curly as opposed to his sister’s light brown hair. He has an iPod with him, which he drops on the bean bag so he can pick up a book from the floor. For some reason, he is reading it upside down and trying to act casual while at it.

  “So Caitlyn, when are you starting school?” Hanna asks.

  “I will when the second term starts. What is your school like?”

  I really want to know. The thought of going there or to any school for that matter is frightening. The three of them chuckle for some seconds while throwing glances at each other.

  “It’s alright, just like any other school. Laying low is a main necessity. Do not start drama with anyone and you’ll be fine,” Leah mumbles. She is sitting on the sill of an open window, lighting up a cigarette in her mouth.