“My head doesn’t hurt, though. Wouldn’t I have lots of pain?”
“You’ve been out for a week and are heavily medicated. Your body will probably heal faster than your mind, in this case. Do you remember anything?”
I study the light fixture on the ceiling. “Just standing in front of Madison Academy, about to go inside. They were going to help me.”
“Hmm… well, we’ll get a therapist in here to see if we can retrieve some of what was lost. For now, be patient with yourself and concentrate on staying relaxed and positive.”
“How much time am I missing?”
The nurse glances at a calendar on the wall. “What was the date of your last memory?”
“My first day at Madison Academy was supposed to be August fifth.”
The nurse raises her eyebrows. “Then you’re missing about three months.”
Startled, I stare at her. “Three months? Is that a normal reaction to a fall?”
She hesitates. “That’s quite a bit of loss, but not necessarily unusual. Head injuries are complicated and unique.” She sighs. “But, please, don’t worry about that. What’s important now is that you’re awake and seem to be functioning well. I’ll call the doctor to do a full evaluation. Welcome back, Rebecca.”
I nod because I’m supposed to.
The days wear on. My mother comes to visit a few times and at just the right dose we both can tolerate. Awkward silences remind us of our strained relationship, though we sit dutifully through the tension. She has no insight to offer about the missing months, and I’m not surprised we hadn’t communicated while I was gone. Our fragile relationship was part of what fueled my enrollment in the first place.
My primary support comes from the warm nursing staff and friendly therapist who’s quickly become a friend. We still haven’t uncovered any memories, but just having an outlet to air my insecurities eases my troubled spirit. I look forward to oursessions, and feel a sense of relief when I see her smile in the doorway.
“Hi, Rebecca! How are you feeling today? Sam tells me you had a rough night.”
“Hi, Anna. Yeah, I keep having these strange nightmares.”
“Nightmares. Really.” Anna closes the door and takes her seat by the window. I push up from the bed and swing my legs over the edge.
“Well, they’re not exactly nightmares. They’re just so graphic that I can’t get them out of my head.”
“What are they about?”
Heat spreads up my neck and into my face.
“Don’t be embarrassed. Our dreams reveal a great deal about our subconscious. In your case, they could be essential to triggering memories.”
I study my hands and draw in a breath. “They’re about a man…” My heart races; tingles spread over my body at the memories. “I mean, not a man, young. My age.” I huff a laugh. “Never mind. It’s stupid. I’m just lonely and want a boyfriend, I guess.”
Anna isn’t amused and inches closer in her chair. “It’s not stupid. What did this person look like? Tell me everything you remember.”
I bite my lip. Remember? I can’t think about anything else. “He has dark hair and… This is stupid.”
“It’s not. Do you remember what he was wearing? Anything else about him?”
He’s practically standing in front of me when I close my eyes. If I reached out, maybe I’d feel his warm skin. At least that would explain the weird fire burning through my body when I think about him. “It’s almost scary what I feel every time he looks at me….” I swallow as my pulse begins its instinctive fury. “Things I never feel, never felt. My whole life has been a blur of otherpeople’s lives. Their memories. Their passions. But this dream, the intensity… It’s me for once. I’m the one in love.” I shake my head. It sounds so ludicrous out loud. “Never mind. It’s stupid. I don’t want to think about it anymore.”
“Why not?”
Because it’s not real. Because a ridiculous dream makes me feel more alive than I’ve ever felt awake. Because I’m jealous of myself, longing for a ghost of my subconscious. I can’t afford impossible fantasies right now. Not ever, if I can help it.
“It’s not real, and I don’t want to fantasize about something I’ll never have.”
Anna’s face melts into compassion. “You don’t think you’re capable of such love?”
“Capable?” I huff a dry laugh. “I have no idea if I’m capable, but I know I’ll never have the chance to find out. I can’t get close to anyone. The minute people find out I can see into their heads they run screaming. And the worst part? I don’t blame them. Most of the time, I’m just as repulsed by what I see. Even my own mother is afraid of me.”
