Remember Me [h.s.]

Prologue

Things were all good yesterday

And then the devil took your memory

The day of

It started with her laugh.  Sitting in the passenger seat of my beat-up car, she squeezed her eyes shut and threw her head back in laughter. What I said wasn't even that funny, but regardless, her laughter momentarily captivated me. I watched her, I couldn't help it. 

If you had told me months prior that watching the girl beside me laugh at one of my stupid, unoriginal, extraordinarily unfunny jokes would be the highlight of my evening, I wouldn't believe a word of it. If you had told me that listening to the sound of her heartbeat on a rainy night-where the pitter-patter of rain thrummed against the roof of our building matching the thumping of her heart against her chest in perfect harmony-would make me as happy as it did, I wouldn't believe a word of it. If you had told me how in love I would be with the girl with those hazel eyes, whose very presence made me a better me, I wouldn't believe a word of it. But everything changed when I met her. Everything got better.

Her laugh. It was loud and bubbly, a bit high-pitched but never nasally. It caused me to smile with its very sound, even in my most foul moods. Her laugh was the catalyst of the entire plight. It was in no way her fault, however. I should clear that up now. I'm not blaming her. It was me, my fault, my wrongdoing. I shouldn't have watched, but I did. I should've kept my eyes on the road, but I didn't. I should've seen the large truck hurtling toward us, but I couldn't. All I saw was her, all I heard was her laugh. 

Her eyes shot open at the sight of the truck's headlights shining onto us; the driver blaring its horn as a meek attempt at stopping proved futile. My name was the last word to fall from her parted lips before we collided head-on with the 16,000 pound truck. 

Some say that near-death experiences bring you closer to God; that you're presented with a white light and should you choose to follow it, you will be granted the sweet release of death, to be kissed by an angel and float to your eternity. Some say your every memory flashes before your eyes and you re-watch your life as though it were a cassette tape you've just hit rewind on. I did not have either of these experiences. After the windshield burst from the impact of the truck, my body bobbed like a fish out of water, struggling for any sort of freeing movement as though I could save myself. My head slammed against the steering wheel and I jolted into unconsciousness as some jolt from sleep. After that I was greeted by darkness. It felt like I was sleeping.

I woke what felt like minutes later, but which had actually been days. The second I opened my eyes, my entire body seemingly ignited with flames of pain that had me nearly howling. My breathing was rapid and heavy, which was mimicked by the fast-paced beeping of the heart monitor positioned beside my bed. The vibrant white walls of the hospital room nearly blinded me, and I squinted my eyes to keep from passing out again. 

"How're you feelin', Mate?" I heard someone say. I craned my neck-which was held in place by a white brace meant to prohibit swift movements as such-and winced. Zayn stood by my side, smiling sympathetically down at me. I could tell that he was on edge. He hated hospitals and normally refused to enter them, but I assume this was an exception.

That's when I remembered.

"Jane." I croaked, my voice sounding weak and tired; as though it had been running a marathon and needed some rest. "Where's Jane?"