A Fight to Remember

All on Faith?

A/N: I know you hate this... please hang in there!

July 5, 2028 Nanaimo, BC

Derek

The razor hung loosely in my fingers as I rinsed the shaving cream off. Another stroke as the blade revealed bare skin on the left side of my face. Despite the cracks and wrinkles it revealed, I felt myself. A few more strokes and I was finished. Patting my face dry, I studied the man in the mirror. Michael Robertson. That was my name. I was married to Sarah Robertson. We had been together for ten years, she said. No children of my own, except Sarah had an estranged daughter that she hadn't seen or spoken to for more than ten years, so I had never met her.

But I was relieved to have Sarah. There was someone waiting for me, looking for me. Someone who loved me.

"Hey hon," Sarah greeted softly at the bathroom door. She offered me a navy T-shirt.

"Hey." I replied, flipping the shirt over my head and letting it fall loosely over my chest. I grabbed my crutches and hobbled out of the bathroom.

"Breakfast?"

"Sure," I smiled. Are you a cereal person? Straight out of the box? Or all fruit and fiber-y? Pancakes? Do you like pancakes? A good day starts with a good breakfast.

"Okay, there's a free hot breakfast in the lobby downstairs. Are you up for coming down with me?"

I nodded and followed her out of the hotel room. The breakfast nook was full of people, families that had lost their homes. Survivors, I thought. While I settled in a corner table, Sarah brought me scrambled eggs and toast, and her own plate of the same. "Find out about the house?" I asked.

Sarah picked at her eggs. "It's gone," she whispered. "Everything... all of it."

"Oh." I said. My heart broke. I had no memories of the house, but the house had my memories. Things that were mine, that defined me, would have been in there.

"I know," Sarah empathized, her hand covered mine. "I-we lost everything."

Lost again, my gaze wandered to the people around me. They shared the same look, flat and empty of emotion."So we'll have to start over."

"We have money, we were going to retire."

It was all very overwhelming. I rubbed my forehead and sighed.

"What did the doctor say about your memory?"

"They did a full scan, nothing to indicate anything abnormal...It could be from hitting my head or it could be something psychological."

"Psychological?"

"They think something traumatic happened and my brain is coping by blocking the memories."

"Oh." Sarah nibbled on her toast.

"Are you okay?" I asked.

She shrugged. "Just not hungry."

"You should eat, get your strength up."

"Maybe later," she dismissed.

We grabbed coffee to go, and went back to our room. Sarah sat stiffly on her bed, her fists curling in the sheets. I didn't know what to say or how to comfort her. I didn't know her anymore. I didn't know how to know her. "I want to go see the house," I said.

"What?-no," Sarah said quickly. "Mike, there's nothing left, just debris."

"I have to try Sarah."

She turned her head to me slowly, "What if you don't remember?"