The Girl With Lost Memories - Parts 1 & 2 (An OUAT Fanfiction)

𝒞𝒽𝒶𝓅𝓉𝑒𝓇 33: 𝑀𝒶𝑔𝒾𝒸𝒶𝓁 𝒜𝓂𝓃𝑒𝓈𝒾𝒶

The weight of the world crushes me—suffocates me. This is more than visions. It's a looming death sentence ready to strike at any moment. How do I process this? How does anyone process anything after finding out they're going to die?

My life hangs by a thread.

Why would the universe do this to me? What have I done to deserve this?

These questions plague my mind, yet the answers don't exist.

It's not fair. It's not right.

But it's my reality.

Uncertainty is the cruelest aspect of it all. I never know when the next vision will hit. It could be tomorrow or ten minutes from now. The fear lurks in the back of my mind, waiting to pounce.

I didn't ask for the visions. I don't know what's wrong. How could a burst of energy inflict such a devastating impact? What did it do to my brain?

I need answers, but it's a race against time before my impending demise.

The Storybrooke General Hospital is typical, with emergency kits and hand sanitizer dispensers at every corner. The scent of lemon disinfectant, scrubs, and latex gloves lingers in the air, mingling with the cacophony of beeping machines and squeaking gurneys.

I wait for an eternity until a doctor arrives at the desk.

"You paged me?" he says, addressing the nurse.

She points her pen in my direction.

"Hello, I'm Doctor Whale," he says with a gregarious smile. He stands tall, a defined jawline accentuating his presence, clad in a white lab coat over his clothes. Despite his friendly demeanor, there's an underlying intimidation to his commanding aura.

"Bella Palmer," I reply, shaking his outstretched hand.

"Are you new in town?"

"It's a bit of a long story, which I'm sure neither of us has time for."

"Fair enough." He wears a puzzled expression. "Weren't you here yesterday with the mayor?"

"I was for a DNA test, but I'm here about something else today."

"What seems to be the problem?" We move to the side for privacy.

My heart pounds against my chest as I struggle to find the words to explain my ordeal without coming off as a madwoman. Doctor's offices never felt like safe spaces, and I imagine it's the same for most people. Who takes a leisure visit to the doctor's just to get probed and discover problems with their bodies? But I have nowhere else to turn. I need help.

"Since yesterday, I've been experiencing severe migraines," I say carefully. People get migraines. That's a thing. "My legs feel wobbly when it happens. My head feels like it's going to explode, and after, I'm out of breath as though I had a panic attack—which I've never had, by the way."

His tone shifts to a more serious one. "How many episodes have you had?"

"Four." I pause, my breathing accelerating. Here comes the part I've been dreading. Fingers crossed he doesn't commit me. "And I've been having these...visions." I pause again, expecting a reaction, but he remains stoic, as if visions are as mundane a symptom as sniffles. "They're like flashes of scenes in my mind," I clarify, hoping to stir him because what's happening to me isn't normal.

His eyes narrow, crinkling his forehead. "Could you elaborate on what you mean by 'visions?'"

Here we go. "I see myself in different places with people I've met in town. It's almost like déjà vu, but it's not. I haven't experienced any of those moments."