Chapter 23: Truth Hurts

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I stared at my sister from the other side of the couch. I could practically feel each tick of the clock and the seconds suddenly seemed longer. I tried to focus on my breathing. My mind was a mess and I finally sat face to face with the truth. 

Maya shifted glances between me and the worried Scar. It almost seemed like she was building up the tension or some shit. 

Then her gaze settled on me, her baby blues boring into mine. She was studying me. I knew that look. She was following every single change of my expression, no matter how small. 

"For fuck sake, Maya," I groaned and rolled my eyes. 

I just needed to know already. The anticipation was killing me and Maya knew very well in what way this was affecting me. What was the worst that could happen? 

Sigh. I did remember the things Zach told me. Well, he hinted. 

I was trying to paint a picture in my head. I might have had a vague idea but I needed to hear it. 

There were things I hoped were the truth and things ... well, things that I would prefer to be lies.

"Okay. But if you start to feel anything I'm stopping. Do you understand?" Maya said. 

Of fucking course, I didn't understand. What does that even mean? 

"Yes," I replied, however. 

Maya took a deep breath and threw one more look in Scar's direction, who recoiled on the armchair. I really hoped Maya would take it easy on her. 

A small frown formed on my sister's forehead and she clasped her hands together, nervously fiddling with her fingers. 

"It started when you were four years old," she began, watching me carefully. "We were at the treehouse. You, me, Zach, and Montana. We were running around and you and Zach went up the ladder to grab a toy or something. You were ... you were tugging on it and Zach let go when you pulled ... " 

I slightly narrowed my eyes, pulling my knees up to my chest. 

"You fell from that treehouse. Which means you ... hit your head pretty hard." Her voice gradually faded out. 

A frown formed on my forehead and Scar gasped from the armchair, her hand flying over her mouth. 

"You lost your memory but the doctors said you should eventually get it back. And it seemed that way, you recovered normally. More or less," she almost whispered. 

Maya elevated her hand and scratched behind her shoulder. 

What she said made sense but it still didn't clarify why she kept this from me. There had to be more to the story and I wanted to ask, I wanted to press her to keep talking — only to realize I was unable to find my voice. 

There come situations in life that you believe can only happen in movies. If I would hear this conversation in a movie, I would chuckle and think to myself "This is so dramatic".

But there I was. This wasn't a movie. This was my life. 

"After a while, we realized there was something more to it." 

Her eyes met mine again and judging by her expression, I wasn't far from crying. 

"Each time something traumatic happened to you, whether you hit your head or not, you forgot. It's like ... it's like your mind just decides that's something you can't live with and restarts itself." 

This entire time I was trying to pay attention to any change in my body. I tried to focus on finding that anything Maya spoke of before. Was something supposed to happen? You know, apart from me feeling even more confused and sad? 

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