Shocking Memories

Chapter 9

The next day rolled in quick. The nights were nothing but a blur of reading, and looking up at the stars. I had thought these sleepless nights might have been a curse, as I did find sleep refreshing, but now, with the added threat of killers breathing down my neck, the sleeplessness was a blessing. Keeping myself charged up, like a battery, might cause the building managers to raise a brow at their electric bill, but no doubt they'd pay it and move on with their day.

I hid on the rooftop practicing my skills, then retreated to my apartment sometime after midnight. I had no interest in trying to track down the very people who have been kicking my ass lately. In the morning I sat around, watching television, and seeing the news cover the events at the harbor now that more information was available. No arrests had been made, and the police weren't entirely sure what had been smuggled in. It was disappointing, I wanted something to come from my endeavors; I wanted to feel like I had done something right. A big ask, I'm sure, especially seeing as how hard I'd been knocked around. It was difficult to know what would have made such a night worth it.

I didn't know what I was supposed to be doing now either. This was the first time I had nothing to do at the start of the day. I'd lost my motivation to practice, and I didn't have Jared hanging around with me. I was left to my own devices, whatever that meant.

I tried reading some of the books again, some of the shorter and more basic options, but didn't find them to my liking either. I laid out on the couch and tried channel surfing, and stumbled upon a channel where a busy haired man was painting. I found it to be a relaxing watch, and left it on in the background. I wound up spending a couple of hours, on the loft, with my legs dangling over the side while I flicked the lights on and off with my mind. I felt out of place, and bored, lost in my own thoughts on the many pieces of advice I had gathered the previous day.

At some undesignated point, my door unbolted, swung open, and welcomed Jared to my home. "You ready to go?" Jared asked, looking around the apartment. "Where are you?"

I flicked the lights on again and gave him a wave, not bothering to sit up from my horizontal position. "Up here!" I called. "Ready for what?"

He finally spotted me, took in my visage, then groaned. "Your neurologist visits. We have an appointment."

I looked down at my body, dressed in a loose-fitting tee-shirt and sweat shorts. I wasn't fit to go anywhere. "Right, I forgot."

Jared clicked his tongue. "Okay, well just come out when you're ready. We need to leave soon."

"I will!" I replied, calling down to him as he walked back out of the apartment. I stood up, ran to my closet, and put on a new set of clothes. So far, I had been putting my dirty clothes into a pile at the bottom of my closet, a pile that I had been ignoring, but that was getting harder to do. With its mass increase came a substantial smell increase too. It was gaining power. I'd probably take care of it, if I knew where my laundry was done, and that didn't feel like a question I could ask Jared.

I put on another outfit, a tattered set of jeans and kept the plain tee-shirt I already had on, knowing it too would soon be joining the collective. Once my outfit was picked out I joined Jared in the hallway and followed him down to his car. I found myself zoning out, still getting lost in thought, even though Jared regularly tried engaging me in conversation. I felt as though I was floating in an ocean of uncertainty and hoped a visit to the doctor would help me sort myself out. A part of me, felt this was going to be another, useless, journey.

-1-

Jared drove me out to a large building, housing many different companies of various agencies. We went up to the fourth floor, where the assigned neurologist was stationed. We easily found the waiting room, taking our seats in uncomfortable plastic chairs while televisions around the area played a home renovation show. How I wished it was the bushy haired man that painted. Jared went up to the pale white desk with a clear divider separating him from the receptionist and talked to her for a while. The receptionist was young looking, so young I wondered how she had gotten the job. She had an unprofessional air about her, like popping bubble gum while she checked me in.