Is everyone alive?
Any catastrophes I should know about?
What if my resentment toward Taylor turned me into some nutjob, and I went allThe Shiningon her?
There’s a whole year’s worth of changes to process. A year’s worth of front-page news, a year’s worth of life’s merry-go-round, a year’s worth of heartaches and headaches and goodbyes.
Changes that I’m sure I dealt with in real time but now they’ll all hit me simultaneously head-on.
I can’t go there yet.
Katie leans over my bed. “Are you all right?”
It’s then that I realize the loud wailing noise is coming from me. “Er… yeah, sorry,” I say, trying to appease her. “Just a little overwhelmed.”
She pats my hand. “Of course. It’s understandable.”
There’s no way she could understand.
How could I erase an entire year of my life? The idea of being a stranger to my own life story sends chills down my spine.
“Hey, Katie?” I ask, realizing I don’t know what the 27-year-old me looks like. “Can I see a mirror, please?”
“Of course.” She hunts through the drawers and hands me one.
I take a deep breath and brace myself. A woman with wide, frightened eyes stares back.
Oh man, I look like the girl fromThe Exorcist.
My dark, usually wavy hair is a wild mess and deep creases are etched across my cheeks. The bandage is gone, but stitches line my forehead. I hope the scar isn’t too big.
My usually light olive skin is ghostly white.
On closer inspection, things look different. Did I get bangs? Looks like it could pass for an edgy haircut when not covered in grease. Huh.
I’ve definitely done something cool with my eyebrows. They’re all angular and dramatic. I look permanently surprised.
It’s me, but it’s not me. This other woman looking back at me has lived a year of my life that I know nothing about.
“Time for your scans, Lucy,” Katie tells me cheerily. “The nursing assistants are here to take you down to level four.”
My tired eyes stare blankly back at me through the mirror. They droop as exhaustion pulls me under…
???
When I open them again, I’m met with a familiar face.
“Mom,” I try to shout, but it comes out a squeak as I prop myself up on the pillows.
“Oh, Lucy.” Mom’s pace quickens, her stern features softening in an all-too-rare display of relief. “Thank God you’re awake.”
She plants an eager kiss on my cheek, triggering a sudden onslaught of tears from me.After I’ve sobbed myself dry, I gulp in air and scrub the remnants of snot and tears off my face.
It’s dark outside, so a few more hours have passed since my last bout of consciousness.
“I’m so sorry I wasn’t here earlier, darling. There was an earlier flight, but it was delayed, and then they canceled it, and then I was put on standby… I managed to catch the earliest flight I could,” she spills out in a single breath.
I grapple to keep up with her, which is hard in my state.
