Chapter 1

Fading Mirage (Chapter 1)

            “She’s awake,” a voice whispered, so lightly, I thought I imagined it. “Grammy, look!” Now that the grogginess was slowly lifting from my senses, I recognized the voice as a little girl’s, and it had an English accent. Footsteps echoed in the otherwise quiet and still room.

            “Oh, goodness,” an older, husky voice mumbled. “Quick, Lea, call the doctor,” she continued with apparent briskness in her tone, “Dearie, can you hear me?”

            Straining to find the source of the voice, I scanned the room without daring to move my sore body. The ceiling was a shade of dirty white, with paint peeled off some areas. The window to my right was broken, with only a tarpaulin, advertising some weight-reducing pill, to block the wind from entering. The room was obviously not taken care of. I trailed my eyes south and there stood an old woman with faded-brown hair and a wrinkled smile looking back at me. Another set of footsteps thundered across the room.

            “What a miracle,” a man, who I assumed was the doctor, almost sighed. He moved closer to the bank I was lying in and flashed light into each of my eyes that flickered in return. “Truly a miracle,” he gently removed something that I didn’t realize was actually covering my mouth and turned off the machine beside me. Right away, I had trouble breathing, but before reaching the point of panic, my breathing slowly eased.

            “Can you move?” the doctor, who didn’t look much of a doctor with his jeans and shirt, asked with hopeful eyes.

            Right away, as if responding to the doctor’s question, my right index finger twitched. I willed myself to move my fingers again and they did. Slowly but surely, one by one, I was able to move parts of my body. Once I felt that I had enough strength to lift myself up, I braced my elbows and tried to push myself into a sitting position only to be met by a strong surge of vertigo. Luckily, the doctor was able to catch me before I fall limply to my bed again and helped me sit up. Sitting up, I noticed that the old woman was joined by a little blonde girl still at the foot of my bed with eagerness in both their eyes. There was an opening at my left, where a door should have been, leading to the hallway. The bright sun shone through the slits of the window and formed a pattern at the cemented floor.

            “Your body must still be sore right now, after not being moved for such a long time,” the doctor voiced out breaking in to my thoughts. Long time? I echoed to my confused mind.

            “Ho-,” I halted, startled to hear the raspy voice coming from me. “How- how long- was- was- I out?” I stammered, still surprised by how I was able to control my vocal cords, like speaking wasn’t at all natural.

            “You’ve been out for 3 years now,” this time it was the old woman who claimed the silence, her eyes now shadowed with worry.

            Worry. For me? For three years, I’ve been in this room unaware of what was happening in the world, of what was happening in the life I left while I was stuck in this bed.

And then, a grim and scary realization filled my mind.

“What’s your name?” the little girl asked with innocence in her voice and eyes now full of curiosity.

“I don’t know,” I answered.

Amnesia? I have amnesia?

“Wha-what do you mean?” I finally managed to say.

“Amnesia,” the doctor repeated, pinching his forehead like he was trying to figure something out, “Amnesia is when you-“

“I know what Amnesia is!” I exclaimed, unable to control the uneasiness growing inside me.

“Look, dearie, I know it’s a lot to take in, but the doctor said that you still have a big chance of gaining your memory back,” the old woman, who still hasn’t moved from her place, said with clear sympathy in her voice.

“But- But what if I don’t? What if-if I lose my memories forever? I-I won’t have a past to go back to,” I stumbled with the words. This is insane, I already lost three years’ worth of time and now I wake up to find out that I apparently lost my memories too. “I don’t even know my own name,” I started hiccupping my words and my breathing got ragged.

“Look, you need to calm down for a moment,” the doctor interrupted my ranting and sat beside my bed. “You need to focus, try to remember,” I was surprised to find his voice still calm even after witnessing my sudden outburst.

“I can’t even remember my own name, how am I supposed to remember anything else?” I answered, my voice tight with frustration.

“You don’t have to remember your name right now, okay?” he assured me, “It would be much helpful if you remembered something about your family, any information at all, so that we can contact them and tell them about your situation.”

“I-I don’t know,” I almost whimpered.

“Just try, okay dearie? It’s okay if you don’t come up with anything, we’ll figure something out,” the old woman came up to my other side and gently cupped my hand into hers. I stared at her for a few seconds, trying to figure out why she was being so nice to me.

I closed my eyes and concentrated. I kept on repeating the word family to myself hoping that a name or an address could somehow make its way and suddenly pop into my mind. But nothing came. I tried visualizing my idea of a family, lounging in their living room, talking about the stuff going on in their lives, laughing at each other’s jokes, there’s the sister, the brother, their mom, their dad…

And all of a sudden, a figure, like some mirage, came into my mind. His features weren’t clear, except for those strikingly golden eyes that seemed to bore into my skull. But even so, I knew, that he was my dad.

When my vision finally focused on the room I was in and on the people with worried gazes on me, I let out a deep sigh.

“I have a dad,” I almost laughed with relief.

“And?” the doctor persisted, his lips slowly tilting into a smile.

“He’s got golden eyes.”

After they finally settled with themselves that I don’t and can’t remember any valuable information regarding my family, they decided to discharge me from the hospital. Mrs. Marissa York, as the old woman introduced herself as, offered to let me stay in her house as long as needed until we can find a way to contact my family.

The little blonde girl who introduced herself as Lea, Marissa’s granddaughter, helped me change from my hospital dress into a pair of jeans and a t-shirt printed with a picture of some band from decades ago. When we were set to leave the hospital, they approached Dr. Walton and said their goodbyes and thank-yous. I followed them out of the room and into the hallway. Turns out, the “hospital” wasn’t much of a hospital at all. The short walk from the room to the exit showed three more rooms similar to where I stayed in, and in the front was a torn sofa with the color of moss and soil. The walls were all in dirty white with most of the paint chapped off. A woman who was about my age and a woman a few years older than me were rounding the empty hospital, checking the three patients left in the rooms. I caught Marissa’s voice directed to me, but my focus was still on the brown-haired woman around my age who was too young to be working here in the hospital.

I was met by a gust of wind when I stepped out of the hospital. The sun was nowhere to be seen and the thick clouds were hovering up above us, blocking my view of the blue sky. It was a quiet little town outside, and a little bit too damaged to be dismissed. The houses were all either missing a window or had holes in the walls covered by pieces of plywood. But even with the states of their houses, the people around the small town seemed to have taken great care of their lawns and their gardens which brought life in the neighbourhood.

We passed by five houses before we stopped in front of a large and cozy-looking cottage that with no doubt stood out from the rest of the dilapidated little town. Marissa started towards the door of the house as little Lea took my hand in hers guiding me across the well-maintained lawn. She was telling me something about the house, a little history, but I couldn’t listen, I didn’t care.

As I entered the cottage, I was met by a blast of warm air that made me realize how cold I actually was. My hands and my face were numb from the cold outside. Inside the house was a sofa facing the ash-covered fireplace with a carpet underneath. On the right side of the really snuggly living room was a dining table made of what looked like really expensive antique wood and to the left was a set stairs. The extravagant interior of the cottage seemed even more out of place in the neighbourhood.

All of a sudden, a little boy came running from upstairs and sprinted towards Marissa. Lea tugged my hand and led me to the stairs and up. The hallway in the second floor was dimly lit, casting it an eerie feel. Lea led me to a room with an enormous bed, a cabinet, and a side table with a lamp that was too huge to only house one person inside. She set me in the bed and made me lie back. Then she tucked a strand of hair that was covering my face behind my ear and turned around towards the door.

 

Author's Note

So...what do you think of the first chapter? There's not much going on yet since, well, she just woke up from 3 years of comatose and doesn't remember anything. Stay tuned though! There's so much more to happen. Leave a review! aaand subscribe! Thanks :)

Reviews

[unexpectedsparkle]

It's really interesting. I don't understand why the old woman and the little girl were in the room, though, if they weren't related-nor why they would have randomly been there on the day when she woke up, unless they know more than they are telling.