Sparks and Hearts

Memory Loading

Unfortunately for me, the blissful dawn skies did little to boost my mood with a headache banging like a brick shithouse. I groaned, holding my hands over my eyes, not wanting any more light to burn my irises out. Closing the curtains fully did little to help. My wish only to go back to sleep, but unfortunately, I wouldn't get my wish as the alarm blared to life, waking me fully, so begrudgingly I got out of bed getting myself ready for work. 

Every bump and turn made me feel sick, desperately waiting for painkillers to kick in. I was glad when we arrived at the site, taking in a few minutes of fresh air. 

''Sure you'll be alright? You can go home anytime, you know.'' Dad said. 

''I'll be fine, dad,'' I assured him. 

''It's just, I know you're a tough cookie, but you tend to push yourself until you collapse.'' Clearly concerned for my well-being. 

''Not turning into mum, are you?'' I teased. 

''No, that womans a pain in the ass. Just concerned about you pumpkin''. He teased back. 

I smiled, giving him all the assurance he needed; while it was true I tended to push myself too far, I felt sure I was capable. The painkillers had started working, and I already perked up a little. 

After the lastest delivery of concrete had been delivered, I got to work on the initial curing, compacting it, bleeding water to the surface, being so focused I had all but forgotten the pounding headache as I suffered an industrial bout of OCD, making sure every bubble was gone and first edging to standard. 

Until something triggered in my mind, a series of images shot through my mind burning like a raging fire, a small metallic four blue-eyed being tucked up with me. First, our voices singing in the car, then his voice difficult to make out, but he was there, my memories were resurfacing. Then, all at once and suddenly over, I fell to the floor, bruising my tail bone for sure, but I barely registered the pain as I held onto my head, trying not to cry out. 

I must not have been as quiet as I liked when dad grabbed me, pulling me into his embrace, rocking me gently as I cried out, unable to hide my distress.

''It's okay, pumpkin, you're safe. I'm here.'' 

 I didn't know how long it took for me to settle, but eventually, I responded to Dad's words. 

''What happened?'' He gently whispered. 

''I- I saw things, images, and sounds from before.'' I panted.

''Memories?'' 

I nodded, finally starting to calm down the mixture of emotions I felt was beyond my imagination; I had seen and been involved in something beyond my imagination, but it still wasn't clear enough for me to make any sense of it. 

My dad wasn't sure how to take my repeated requests to stay at work, wanting to forget the episode and allow it to take its course. Rather than worry endlessly back home bored and alone, allowing thoughts to plaque my mind with endless possibilities. With caution, I was allowed to get through the day and finish my job without any further episodes, though I remained quiet. 

Back home, my mother scolded my dad for not telling her what happened and not bringing me home, but their voices were merely background noise as I pushed around the food on my plate, too caught up in my own thoughts to hear. 

They danced around in my brain like riddles, images and voices echoing in the deepest parts of my self-conscious wanting to be unraveled. 

''I'm going for a shower,'' I said, breaking up said argument, no longer wanting to be the center of it.