Lost Pages

𝓕𝓲𝓯𝓽𝓱 𝓟𝓪𝓰𝓮

"Your friends are here to see you!" he said while trying to pull me out of bed. But I remained quiet and stubborn; I didn't want to get up or talk. "Beverly!" he kept calling my name.

"Are you planning to stay here forever? it's been weeks!" 

Weeks? That can't be... it has only been a day!

I looked around my surroundings, nothing had changed, I was right... it's impossible that weeks have passed. I assured myself- no... I 'forced' myself to believe I was right. That was the case until I saw my reflection on a small hand mirror leaning toward my books on a shelf facing directly at me. 

I'm a complete mess...

Jy and Yuni still kept on calling my name, It continued for a few more minutes until Jy and Yuni finally left. "They're gone," he said as he dropped my hand. 

"What's going on with you?" 

I don't even know; I just didn't have the energy to do anything. Reality hits hard—this whole time, I've only been playing a role. Who is Beverly? Is this how she is supposed to act?

Everything feels so wrong; it's as if I'm doing everything incorrectly.

There are people whom I feel like I'm supposed to know, but I can't remember them. I carry this overwhelming guilt, yet I have no idea where it comes from. Suddenly, I feel unfamiliar with myself, like I'm a completely different person.

"Are you having nightmares lately?" He asked, I looked at him without saying anything. 

"You finally looked," He sighed in relief, "This whole time, I thought you couldn't see me again..." 

Abruptly, they came back, "Beverly we know you are in there!" I could hear Jy pounding on my front door. 

"Aren't you going to see them?" he asked, as he sat down at my bed. 

"Please talk to us!" Yuni shouted, and they kept on going.

"Shouldn't you at least answer them?"

Answer them?

But what answer should Beverly give? 

The moment I open that door, what face should Beverly show?

"Beverly!" 

I covered my ears, tired of hearing that name, that feels like it doesn't belong to me. All of a sudden, I heard numerous people calling out my name, I couldn't recognize most of them. It kept getting louder,

"Beverly..."

and louder,

"Beverly!"

and louder,

"BEVERLY!"

He grabbed my chin and forced me to look at him, and then all the voices disappeared.

"What's going on with you?" His voice grew louder and more frantic as he stared directly into my eyes, unable to comprehend the situation. I tried to speak, but I didn't know what to say; all that came out was a lie.

"I can't remember anything..."

There it is again, the moment of silence that he gives me. That excruciating silence leaves me distraught. Say something—anything, to distract me, to evade the relentless intrusion of the past. He drops his hand as he is about to say something.

I take it back, don't say anything. 

I know what you'll say and I don't want to hear it.

"Do you really not remember?" but I didn't get to stop him in time, "or do you not want to remember?"