Willing myself to comply, to finally find the source of the voice, my heavy eyelids lifted as the bright light blinded me.
“Angelica.” The man next to me shouted while hugging me close, and I cried out in agony from the pain assaulting me.
But more importantly, I couldn't handle the sense of loss, because the stranger with the most amazing voice in the world wasn't there.
Charlotte, North Carolina
February 2017
The nurse adjusted the pillow behind me to be more comfortable and pushed me back on it. “Poor darling,” she said pitifully, lifting the blanket under my elbows, essentially tucking me in a safe cocoon of warmth. The air conditioner was running crazy in the hospital, and no matter how much I tried, I couldn't stop my body from trembling.
My dry mouth felt disgusting, so I whimpered loudly, pointing at my lips with my bandaged hands. The action brought an electrifying shot of pain, and for a second, I stopped breathing.
“No, don’t move, sweetheart,” she exclaimed, quickly putting a straw to my lips and allowing me to sip gently. I moaned as it brought relief to my body. I learned not to pay attention to how much my face hurt when I ate or drank. Tight bandages wrapped me like a mummy, so nothing was visible aside from my eyes and lips.
A shudder ran through me as I remembered how even the slightest touch of air inflicted agonizing pain on my burned skin and how the smell of gasoline stayed in my nose. By the shocked stares and constant whispering between medical personnel, I understood my face was hideous to look at.
“Angelica.” A voice from the doorway snapped my attention from my thirst as I noticed the man named Oliver leaning against the doorjamb with a bright smile, holding red roses in his hands.
Roses?
My eyes shut as a memory assaulted me with a different man holding similar roses, but he wore a suit. I frowned, willing the image in my head not to go away and let me focus on his face, but it wouldn't let me.
Just like that, the flash was gone, and I couldn’t think.
“Hi,” I replied hoarsely, while he slowly walked toward me and placed the flowers on my bed covers.
“They’re your favorite.” My eyes watered from one more reminder I didn't remember anything.
My brain was a complete blank.
I could name different things, but for the life of me, I didn't recognize my family or the man I loved.
“Oh, no, sweetheart,” his said softly, while his lips brushed over my bandaged forehead. “Don’t worry or stress yourself. You’ll remember our love.” The hope in his words couldn't be missed, while nurses watched us with adoration and sadness.
Would I?
Charlotte, North Carolina
March 2017
Resting my back against the headboard, my thumb was almost numb from constantly clicking the remote as TV channels changed at the speed of light. Nothing held my interest.
Crying in frustration, I threw it and it landed with a soft thud as it hit fluffy white carpet. With my knuckles, I scratched my bandaged face. The burns hurt like a bitch, especially when they applied some kind of healing cream. The ointment did nothing but make my life a living hell as the skin itched like crazy after each application. In one of those sessions, a doctor told me I had three more such treatments before they could do anything about the burns. He told me not to worry.
Funny man really. What girl could not worry about her physical appearance? Although in all honesty, I couldn't give two shits about it, because I had more serious problems on my mind. Like getting my memory back, so I would know all the people around me. I felt like someone was trying to fit wooden blocks together in my brain, but instead they’d go flying all over the place.
That’s how it felt not being able to even recall my name.
They kept saying Angelica, but my insides never responded to it. They spoke about the girl, but it felt like another person. My psychologist explained to me it was normal for lost memory, but somehow I doubted it. What the hell did she know anyway? It wasn't as if she had any idea what it was like for your mind to be a blank space.
You could say I was bitter.
“Someone is in a bad mood.” A cheery voice from the doorway pulled my attention from my sad life, and my mouth lifted in a smile as Ciara entered the room, holding a bag with donuts and two Starbucks cups.
“I’m bored out of my mind.” She rolled her eyes, placed the food on the table, and extended her hand with a cup to me, while leaning down to give me a peck on the cheek.
“Let’s not be grumpy, shall we?” She sat on the nearby chair, putting one leg over the other. Her foot adorned with a red stiletto swayed back and forth. Overall, little sister had a great sense of style.
