Part two
Six Months Later
Chapter Eighteen
Maya
Another day living life on repeat. I feel like I’m living in that film from my childhood, Ground hog Day.
I started back at work two months ago, easing myself in with really short shifts. It’s funny how amnesia works. I don’t remember any of my ‘friends’ or even any of my clients, yet I can remember how to do my job. It’s got something to do with muscle memory and how it’s stored in a different part of the brain.
Either way, it still baffles me.
Every day I go into the salon, Fallon prewarns everyone that I won’t know who they are, and each person still acts as if I should know them. It’s exhausting. I only stick to five to six hours a day, which apparently is extremely short for me.
But I can’t do it.
The thought of keeping up appearances day in and day out is like torture. It’s hard enough withthe girls, they are lovely and I can tell they’re really trying, but I just can’t be the person they want me to be right now. Fallon is the main one who wont leave my side and I can see why she is the one I’m apparently closest to. I feel like she is my comfort blanket, the only one I can really take too at the moment. She’s just so sad whenever she isn’t trying to help me with my memory and I know she is putting on an act. The other girls, Gracie and Blair, told me that she lost someone she loved in the accident. Harry.
He saved me.
I sound like the worst person in the world right now, but I can’t bring myself to be grateful to him. I’m continuously stuck in the routine that is my life, and it seems like such a waste. Why did I deserve to be here more than he did?
Nothing makes sense now.
When I was in the hospital, Dr Smyth explained to me that I have PTA (post traumatic amnesia) which can last for hours, or months, or even years. Don’t get me wrong, things have started to feel familiar to me, like I recognise places or random little things, but still nothing substantial.
It's so frustrating.
I say my goodbyes to the girls and head home for the day, knowing Fallon will be following me home in a couple of hours. She tends to do that, check in each morning and evening to make sure I’m okay. The day I woke up inhospital, all hell broke loose when I kicked everyone out of the room. All these people I didn’t know, who expected so much from me.
Apparently, I had a boyfriend that I loved, but I couldn’t face him, so I told Fallon to keep him away from me. How would it be fair to put a man through that kind of torment, knowing that the woman he loves can’t love him back. It’s so strange, as even though I don’t remember him I do feel like something is missing. A piece of me not quite whole.
I’m walking through the city, strolling lazily towards my car. It’s not like I’m in any rush to get home. My mum had stopped coming to visit me, soon getting bored with putting on the pretence of caring. She had reappeared a few times, but only to ask me for money, as if I had any to spare right now, four months of no income and now working limited hours isn’t exactly the best. I am mortgage free though at twenty-five by some miracle, I must have really worked my arse off to buy the cabin outright.
The cabin is truly my escape and I understood the draw it must have had on me when I bought it. There is little I recall, but I do remember needing to escape my childhood home, and a boy who used to save me, if only I could picture his face. My very own knight in shining armour. Just the thought makes me sad. The one person that I would love to remember would be him.
The entire drive home I think about thefaceless boy and how I would love to meet him again.
Waking up in this cabin is bliss. I make myself a cup of tea and then climb back in bed, wrapped up all cosy with the double doors at the foot of the bed open. The steady sound of the river running past the door adding to the tranquillity, the currents creating a peaceful symphony. The view of the greenery and flowers just starting to bloom is so beautiful, no wonder I planted flowers in every available space outside. Maybe I’ll try some gardening today, the doctors did say that doing things I used to enjoy might help with my memories.
Before I can plan anything else with my day, there’s a knock at the door.
I make my way over to the front door, to be greeted by two police officers, the same two that have been overseeing my case. Everyone had assumed that the accident was just that, an accident. It seemed though, that it had actually been a targeted attack, which made Harry’s death a murder. They have CCTV footage from local bars of the car parked further down the road and aiming directly at me.
What the footage doesn’t show is who was driving.
The search for the car had so far come up with nothing, it had been reported stolen, meaning that tracing the driver was next to impossiblebut he was still out there, and apparently out to get me.
“Hi Maya, nice to see you again. Are you free for a chat? We have a little update on your case,” Berny, the older of the two asks. He is a lovely man, nearing retirement and likes to mention that fact every time I see him.
“Can we come in love?” Phil asks, he’s the younger of the two, fresh out of training but just as nice all the same.
“Of course, you will have to excuse me not being dressed. I wasn’t expecting visitors today,” I blush, realising I’m still in my fluffy pony pyjama’s.
“Don’t worry at all, we should have called first but wanted to speak to you in person,” Bernie says, his voice more serious.
I make the officers a brew and we all take a seat in my living room.
