Waking up Blank [Published - sample only]

2: "A 17 year old girl had her life cut short."

I had damage to my temporal lobe, just to the side of my forehead, along with a concussion from other blows I had taken to my head. The doctors assumed that's what was causing my amnesia, and decided that it would be best for me to stay for a few more days for testing and to let my leg heal so they could take the cast off and then just have me walk around with a boot.

They had run tests to make sure there was no permanent damage to my brain, and that I wouldn't stress during healing and take longer to recover. I had to do leg exercises daily to aid in recovery. Since my femur was fractured it only took about four months for it to heal, luckily I had been comatose for the healing process. I would just have to wear a boot for a month so that I couldn't hurt it after not walking for the last few months.

My other injuries were mostly to my ribs. I had broken four ribs and for a while it hurt to breath, but luckily they healed sometime around the second month I was out. I was still instructed to not partake in anything stressful or athletic until I was sure I could handle it. I agreed with that instruction because I was nervous about moving around on my own after being in a bed for four months. Would it hurt to walk around or would I not notice it? Everything had healed well according to the doctors, but I wasn't sure if it would still affect me. 

"So I won't remember anything that happened that night?" I asked the nurse that was helping me remember how to tie my shoes. A heavy sigh escaped my lips as she tied it my shoe for me and gave me a sorrowful glance. At that moment I wished I had died all those months ago.

I couldn't remember how to do anything except eat, drink and go to the bathroom, but the last one had been a messy start. I could even remember what items, like the television in my room was, and I could logically figure out other things by listening to those around me, but for some stuff I was just at a loss. It was like taking care of a new born child without the constant crying according to my mother.

Everything was done for me while I laid in a bed for the last few days. I was just watching faces that teased my memory, taunted me, but brought no relief. I didn't know who these people were, some I thought I knew, but I couldn't place my finger on it. They were faces, with sorrow etched in their features from seeing me so beaten, with tears in their eyes at the death of my friend ,and with a clench in their voice as they verbalized their mourning for the event that occurred.

I had been beaten, pretty badly from what the nurses told me, but I couldn't be sure. When I looked in the mirror I would see my green eyes, but my face seemed different. They speculated what happened that night, but no one knew for sure what happened. It must have been hard, especially when my family had to come in and see what I looked like after the accident.

My sister, Ali, had shown a picture of me before the attack. I had long blonde hair that was braided into pig tails, freckles sprinkled across my cheeks and on the bridge of my nose, bright green eyes and straight teeth that shined in the picture. This girl wasn't who I saw now.

The smile was gone, my hair was darker, and the scars covered my freckles. My eyes had followed the photo to the girl next to me. Her hair was in a messy brown bun, she had freckles on her the bridge of her nose and brown eyes that shined in the light of the photo. That was Maddie, and for some reason she was all I could really remember. She was my only memory. The doctors theorized that it was because of what happened to Maddie and I. Something about that night traumatized me, I must have been so worried about her, and that's why I could only remember her.

I wish I could know what happened. The few people that came to visit me only had a vague idea of what happened to me, whereas I had no idea of what happened that night. There was always someone in the room with me during what the nurse called visiting hours, but I never had much to say. I didn't recognize anyone until my fourth after waking up when Ali came into the room with black sweatshirt. All if said was Edson Swim, but the second I saw it I remembered that I used to wear it even though it belonged to her. She would get so upset with me because I wouldn't ask to borrow her clothes, but she'd still let me borrow them as long as I washed them after.