𝐕𝐄𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐄 | 𝐉𝐉𝐊

CHAPTER:04

"She felt like a piece of her heart was forever missing, but in the quiet moments,

she held onto the hope that even in loss, there could be a path to healing-a way to rebuild from the fragments of what once was."

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A U T H O R' S P O V

After that fateful day, Yn slowly comes to consciousness, her eyes fluttering open to a stark, unfamiliar room.

The walls are painted in muted colors, and the room is sparsely furnished, with a single bed, a small table, and a chair. She sits on the edge of the bed, her mind clouded with confusion and disorientation.

The memories of the accident are fragmented and jumbled, like pieces of a shattered mirror. She tries to piece them together, but they slip through her fingers like grains of sand.

She remembers crossing the street, the blaring car horns, and her husband's desperate cry, but his face is a blurred, indistinct image in her mind.

Every time she tries to recall his features, all she can conjure is a vague, hazy outline. The more she strains to remember, the more elusive his face becomes. The memories of his voice, his presence, and even his name are shrouded in fog.

Her frustration grows as she attempts to recall simple details. "What was his name?" she thinks, but the answer eludes her, as if it's been erased from her memory. She finds herself grasping at shadows, unable to solidify any concrete image or detail about him.

The only fragments of identity that remain are odd and fragmented.

She knows that she used to be called "Yn,"a name that feels familiar but distant.

The term "Honey" is the only name she associates with her husband, but it feels more like a term of endearment than a true recollection of his identity.

She tries to piece together her own identity, but it's like trying to catch smoke with her bare hands. "i just remember, who I used to be"

Dr. Hannah looked deeply concerned as she sat beside YN, noticing the distress in her patient's eyes. With a soft, reassuring voice, she gently asked, "Do you remember anything about your husband, YN? His name, maybe? Or what he looked like?"

YN's face tightened with frustration, and her eyes filled with a mix of sorrow and confusion. "I don't even remember his face," she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. "Trying to remember his name feels impossible. It's like... it's all been erased."

Dr. Hannah's heart sank at the realization of how deeply YN's trauma had affected her memory. "I'm so sorry, YN," she said, her voice filled with empathy. "I can't imagine how difficult this must be for you."

YN looked down, her fingers trembling slightly. "How do you lose something so important?" she murmured, more to herself than to Dr. Hannah. "It's like he's slipping away from me, and I can't hold onto him, no matter how hard I try."

Dr. Hannah placed a comforting hand on YN's shoulder. "We'll work through this together," she promised gently. "You may not remember everything right now, but we'll take it one step at a time. You're not alone in this."

Dr. Hannah watched YN closely, concern etched across her face. The conversation had taken a heavy turn, but she needed to understand more. "But didn't he try to reach you or look for you?" Dr. Hannah asked gently.