It had just started a couple of months ago. We were bike riding and she suddenly flipped off her bike. I had freaked out and took her to the hospital. The doctors checked her out and said she as perfectly fine. No concussion and not even a scrap. Back then I would have gladly taken the concussion.  After that day a few weeks went by and nothing. She laughed, smiled, she was herself. But, as the days would go by, she seemed different. She would walk into a room and instantly forget what she was doing. We would go shopping and she would forget one item on the list. At first, I thought she was still recovering from the accident. But soon it turned to two, three, four, five, until she completly forgot what was on the list and just stand there, staring off into space, and then instantly snap out of it and walk away from what she was doing. I began to worry. Soon she began to misplace things. first keys, then her wallet, then her purse. I somehow would find them. In the car, the cupboard, the bathroom, even the fridge. At first I thought she was trying to be funny, till one day she walked in sweaty and exhausted, almost on the verge of collapsing with the bags of groceries in her hands. I raced over to her and asked her what happened and she explained to me she couldn't find her car so she walked all the way from the grocery story to home. I felt the uneasy feeling and I slowly hoped that possibly the car was stolen. I told her to go take a shower and I would go look for her car. She nodded and I grabbed my keys and took off in my car. As I pulled up I felt my heart drop. I spotted her car, right at the very front of the parking lot, near the enterance of the store. I drove back and then walked the 10 miles to drive back her car.  I just couldn't wrap my head around it. How could she be forgetting? She's a healthy 20 year old and the doctor even said she didn't have a concussion. I looked at her that night and saw her sound asleep. I reached over and touched her face, making a silent prayer that all this would go by. The next couple days nothing happened. I had hope that this blew by and everything was back to normal. But that day, the day I got back home from work, I called her name and she didnt respond. I called again and nothing. I felt my heart speed up as I ran into the kitchen and froze at what I saw. I knew my heart stopped. blood covered the floor and it slowly dripped down her arm. The stove was one and the fridge was open. Vegtables laid out and a chicken breast laid on the cutting board. And there she stood. Arm covered in blood, as it gushed from a cut in her hand. The knife was still clenched in her other had as she simply watch, as if suprised that she could even bleed. I went and grabbed the knife from her hand, the blade covered in her blood and flung it into the sink. I grabbed to closes rag and covered her hand and picked her up and ran to the car. Not a word. She stayed daze throughout the entire ride. No matter how many times I said her name, no matter how may times I asked if she was ok. I felt the rag soak up her blood as I held it against her. I increased the speed and zoomed passed all the cars to the hospital. I parked and grabbed her and ran in. Everything was a blur to me. The nurses taking her as I was held back, seeing her blood leave a trail behind her. I felt my heart shatter. And soon she was gone behinfd those close doors to the ER. Two hours later, I was called in. I felt my anticipation well up in me, waiting to see her. But instead of being led into the ER, I was led  to one of the main floors. I could feel fear grow at the bottom of my stomach. Could it have been that serious? I walked into her room and was greated with her smiling face. I rushed over and hugged her and kissed her forehead. A small giggle slipped her lips as she leaned in and kissed me gently. I looked over and saw her hand was wrapped up pretty tight. She must have gotten stitches. I sat next to her and held her close to my chest, not wanting to let go, but then, a doctor walked in. He was an older man, probably in his 40's, but he seemed like a kind person. He smiled at us and introduced himself as Dr.Smith. He explained to me she did recieve stitches and that she will be on certain antibiodicts to make sure it didn't get infected. I nodded along and held her even closer to her. He cleared his throat and his face changed into an a serious expression. The air in the room seemed to tense up at that moment and I held even tighter. "Uh Mr??" "Albert Johnson." He gave a small nod and cleared his throat again. "Well. Mr. Johnson, can you please step outside, we need to talk about further things." I gave a quick kiss on her forehead and got up and followed him outside. I stood against the wall and he stood infront of me. "Mr. Johnson, you might want to take a seat for this." Confusion rose in me, but stood my ground. He let out a sigh and continued. "Well Mr. Johnson, as we examined Ms..." he flipped open his folder in his hand, " Kelly Ripler, we began to question her on how she recieved the cut on her skin and she simply said she didn't know. At first, we believe she was just in shock from the incident so we shook it off. But, after fixing her up, we handed her forms to fill out. But.." he flipped open the folder again and pulled out a paper. He handed it to me and it was almost completely blank except where she wrote in her name. I handed the paper back to him and he placed it back into the folder. " It seemed she had difficulty filling out the simples t questions about herself. So we began to question her and it seemed she didn't know how to respond to any of the questions. So we ran a few test and.. "He sighed and ran his hand through his grey hair. " I don't know how to put this Mr. Johnson." I felt it began in my stomach and slowly creep up into my heart, clenching it and slowly squeezing it as the seconds ticked by. "Mr.Johnson.. Ms.Ripley has early stages of alzheimers." At the moment, I knew I should have sat down when he told me too, cause I felt my heart being crushed.