Remember Me | J.M.R.F

1

Taylor's P.O.V

He stares into my eyes, placing his hands on my waist. The distance between us began to close. Soon enough, our foreheads were pressed together. I bite my lip, his piercing green-blue eyes sending shivers down my spine. The noise of the crowded dance floor started to fade away, and suddenly, it was just him and I.

He placed a hand on my right cheek, caressing it. I blushed under his touch. He was mesmerizing. I wrapped my arms around his neck, and that was when it happened...

The sound of my alarm going off woke me. My back ached as I sat up, struggling to turn it off. Just as I was about to shut it down, a series of barks arose to contribute to the noise. I sighed, knowing very well it was my German Spitz, Willow. I decide to press the snooze button instead of wrestling with the clock. When the clock silences, Willow does too.

I groan, trying to shake off my sleepiness. I barely slept last night, three or four hours at the most. In addition, I had that dream again. Which got interrupted again. My mind seems to enjoy indulging in the fantasy of meeting a handsome stranger at a party. I scoff, knowing that it would never happen. I'm 23 and still haven't had my first kiss.

When I was still in school, I was shy and quiet. I rarely made friends, and if I did they'd become bored of me and move on. Soon enough I stopped trying to socialize and kept to myself. I suppose I was an average student, maybe a little above. I never really had plans for my life. As a matter of fact, I don't have any now. I live in an apartment in downtown Manhattan and work at a cafe a few blocks away.

Sure I went to college, but mainly because I was forced to. My mom insisted I continue my education after high school. I ended up graduating with a bachelor's degree in both psychology and sociology. I was always interested in those two fields, but I'm not currently looking for a career in them.

As long as I'm comfortable, I'll be content. I feel no pressure to look for a "proper" job at the moment. Nor do I care to have an intimate relationship with anyone, or any relationship at all for the matter. These are the things my mother doesn't quite understand and that I've given up explaining. Ever since my dad and mom got a divorce twelve years ago, she's been on my case to have a "better" life than she did. As for my dad, I don't see him much and we barely keep in contact. It doesn't bother me though, I'd rather not speak to him.

These things have shaped me into the independent person I am. I'm not fazed by trauma and matters such. I'm the person who would tell you that it's better to be safe than sorry. I know from personal experience that attempting to please someone can have consequences that you would never imagine. My life would most likely be very different if I hadn't gone to that party an old friend of mine invited me to. I would've never been in that car crash that almost ended me.

The impact of the crash had broken a few of my bones, and left my body bruised. I also developed retrograde amnesia, meaning I forgot the events that took place previous to the accident. It's probably better that way, since I would be more regretful if I remembered doing something immature. I had to to take a blood alcohol test, which showed no alcohol in my system, much to my relief.

I soon found out the driver who had hit my car had fallen asleep behind the wheel, but had stayed at the scene and was the one who called for help. I spent a week in the hospital and had to go to physical therapy afterwards. I was just happy to be alive, knowing how deadly car crashes could become. I felt like I was given a second chance at life, and so I chose to learn and move on.

When I fully healed, I started applying for part-time jobs. It was then I was hired by a nearby cafe, which is where I've been working as a cashier and occasionally a waitress. The manager, Kathy, is a total sweetheart and like my second mother. At the thought of Kathy, I snapped out of my daze. I checked the time, and realized I was due at work ten minutes ago. Typical.

I shot a quick text to Kathy, apologizing and promising to be there in no more than ten minutes. Usually with my slow pace it would take me at least twenty minutes, but a promise is a promise. I can imagine Kathy panicking because the new girl, who I was supposed to take under my wing wasn't doing something right. I believe her name was Jess, but it could also be Joss. I probably should've payed more attention when Kathy was introducing us...