Oh, she had me.  

Just as I had started thinking about the fact that my vagina had actually produced a living human being and that my boobs had been suckled by a little baby endlessly (could explain why they were big?) and that I was actually a teenage mother like how the fúck did that happen who was the dad and WHY DID I LOSE MY VIRGINITY TO HIM?!?!

She broke out laughing. Dawn started laughing and clutching at her ribs and it sounded as though her laughs were choking her.

She pointed at me, still laughing. "Oh my god!" laugh, laugh, laugh. "You should have seen your face!" cough, laugh, cough. "Priceless."

I frowned at her and took the pillow beside me to hit her with it. "That's not funny, Dawn!"

"Yeah," she chuckled. "It is!"

I placed a hand over my chest in a bid to calm my racing heart. "Gods! You scared me."

"Sure did," said Dawnley, her eyes lighting up as she stared at me like an interesting specimen. "So, you mean to say, you don't remember anything. At all?"

Not liking her grin, I huffed and didn't bother replying.

"This is golden," she continued. "Have you forgotten about —"

"Please," I raised my finger to interrupt. "If you're going to come up with another outrageous lie, save your words. I won't fall for it."

My sister raised both arms in mock surrender. "OK. I wasn't going to lie to you anyway."

Curiosity washed over me as I gazed at her lazy smile. She hummed an unfamiliar tune under her breath as she avoided my gaze.

In the end, I finally let out a relenting sigh. "What is it?"

"OH!" Her eyes went wide with shock as she gazed at her wrist riddled with dark hued shambalas. "Will you look at the time?"

"Wait—"

"Gotta Zayn," she stood up abruptly and left the room before I had the chance to stop her.

"Damn it!" I cussed under my breath. It was vivid that she was about to tell me something important, but I'd blown it thinking she was about to lie to me again.

And since when did Dawn become like this? Telling a blatant lie as though it was second nature? Gothic fashion? Saying 'yo' like some urban homegirl from the hood? And most importantly, taunting me with information?

I could not, for the life of me, come to terms with that at the moment.

It still felt strange. Just how much had changed over the past three years? And was I ready to cope with what had happened?

I wasn't sure.

Later that night, when I was still fumbling for thoughts in my mind—something, anything—a brunette walked into the room, ardoned in a lab coat and holding a notebook in one hand.

"Hello, Redding," she greeted.

"Hey."

"I'm Dr. Stevens," she said as soon as she was beside my bed. "Your psycho—neurologist."

Oh, wow. Psycho? That's the only word that distinctly rang in my head. Had my amnesia rendered me crazy?

"Oh," I tried to perk up and sat upright. "OK."

She whipped out a pen and began scribbling in her notebook. "I'll be having regular sessions with you to take you through your amnesic state. If you've got any questions, comments, don't hesitate to—"

"Yeah, when am I getting my memories back?"

Dr. Stevens stared at me as though I'd sprouted two heads. After a few moments, she sighed.

"I understand your confused state and the need to get back your memories," she said. "But I won't lie to you, Miss Jones. Retrograde amnesia takes time. The time frame isn't defined so it might take weeks, months or even years."

A cold feeling washed over me. "Years?! But I need my memories back. I need . . ." I trailed off, unsure of what I wanted to say.

"I need to make sense of everything." I finally managed.

"I understand, Miss Jones. And before that happens, I can help you cope with your state in a bid to hasten your regaining of memories," she told me as she pushed up her owl rimmed glasses up the bridge of her little nose.

"Really?" Hope swelled inside of me.

The brunette doctor smiled at me. "Yes. I'll give you supplements to help your brain regenerate the damaged cells, just so until a few old memories can be recalled."

At her statement, I smiled like an idiot. At least that was something.

"You'll also need a bit of counseling before we release you. Amnesiac patients tend to exhibit unplanned traveling and panic in areas they aren't familiar with, and most of them show different behavior than what is usually their character."

"So, what am I supposed to do when that happens?"

Dr. Stevens smiled. "Nothing major, really. Just be yourself. You may want to try to act according to how people say you always act, but you shouldn't. If you conform to that, it might put a strain on your mind and make the amnesia worse." She smiled sweetly.

A grip of fear seized my heart. "Wow, OK. So be myself."

"Good." Dr. Stevens kept on babbling and babbling whenever she came to my room for her sessions. After two days, I got tired and asked if it was OK to have the session in her office because I was getting bored of being bedridden and I really needed a stretch.

"Sure," she said and led me out of the room. The hospital was quite big and pristine. Just how much did my dad spend in admitting me here?

My sessions with Dr. Stevens weren't that helpful but at least I got something from her talks. I knew she was only doing her job by trying to help me but seriously, I could not even wrap my head around the 'semantic' and 'episodic' terms she kept saying.

"So, remember this, Redding. Sometimes you might feel as though you don't know how to do something, but in real sense, you're good at it. That's what we call—"

"Semantic memory," I interrupted. "Yep. Got it. You said it a thousand times. Can I go home today?"

She sighed. I always kept asking that question during my sessions. I was getting impatient, but besides my lack of memories, I felt fine.

"OK. You can go home today."

I beamed at her. "Really? Yay!"

"But on one condition."

My triumphant fist paused mid air. "OK?"

"You need to be attending sessions at least once a week."

"Will do," I winked.

"And try immersing yourself in technology and latest trends to see if it can invoke something in your mind," she added.

I frowned. "But you told me that the reminder effect isn't a guarantee that I will remember stuff."

"Yes, and I'm glad you've been listening. It won't make you remember much but that doesn't mean you should be out of touch with current events."

"Oh."

"And keep familiar people close to you, OK?"

My mind drifted to my family and Clark. "Sure thing."

I felt so relieved when Cliff came to pick me up once I was discharged.

"You've got a car?!" I exclaimed once we were out of the hospital building.

He gave me a dead look. "Of course. I'm working now."

I couldn't prevent the giggle of excitement from escaping my lips. As much as I was terrified that I'd lost three years of my memories, I thought this would be a chance to learn everything again. A kind of fresh start.

I couldn't wait to reach home.

•••

hey! stick around cuz things are gonna pick up from the next chapter.

and do drop your votes and comments so that I can know if you're enjoying the story. they motivate me.

—Marj💋