BALANCED LUCK

one

☘︎ clover ☘︎

AUGUST

TWO YEARS LATER

I opened my eyes, groggily trying to make sense of my surroundings. As I looked around, I couldn't help but feel disoriented and confused. My mind was a blank slate, as if all my memories had been wiped clean. I tried to recall anything, any hint of familiarity, but it was like trying to catch smoke - every time I thought I had a grasp on something, it slipped through my fingers.

As I slowly gain full consciousness, I become aware of a presence nearby. I turn my head and see a man sitting beside me, holding my hand. All I can see is his brown, floppy hair, but there is something about him that feels familiar, yet I can't quite place it. I feel a strong sense of yearning and longing for this man.

While I study his features, a strange sense of nostalgia washes over me. Every line, every contour of his face seems to trigger a hazy, fragmented memory lodged somewhere in the depths of my mind. It's as if he is a puzzle piece, but I can't quite fit him into the picture. The longer I look at him, the stronger the feeling of longing becomes, as if my heart is desperate to remember who he is.

I tried to speak, but my voice came out as a hoarse whisper. I looked around the room, taking in my surroundings. The sterile environment of the hospital, the hum of machines, and the faint sounds of footsteps in the hallway confirmed that I was indeed in a hospital room. Confusion and fear began to swirl within me as I grappled with the unknown.

I looked at the man again, willing myself to speak. But the words wouldn't come. Frustrated and confused, I tried to gesture with my free hand, hoping to convey some kind of question or statement. My hand weakly fluttered in the air, but it seemed like an insufficient attempt at communication. It was as if there was a barrier between my brain and my body, preventing me from expressing what I wanted to say.

A nurse walked into the room, holding a clipboard in her hand. As soon as she saw me awake, her eyes widened in surprise. She quickly dropped her clipboard onto a nearby table, her eyes wide with excitement. She immediately ran out of the room, calling out urgently for a doctor. I could hear the sound of her footsteps receding down the hallway, and then the sound of voices growing closer as she returned with a doctor in tow.

The nurse quickly dropped her clipboard onto a nearby table, her eyes wide with excitement. She immediately ran out of the room, calling out urgently for a doctor. I could hear the sound of her footsteps receding down the hallway, and then the sound of voices growing closer as she returned with a doctor in tow.

As the doctor began to speak, suddenly the boy sitting next to me looked up, his eyes widening in shock. "Clover?" he said, his voice shaky and filled with disbelief. "Are you awake?"

My heart skipped a beat as I heard the boy call out to me. I looked at him again, trying to read his face. There was a hint of recognition, but also confusion mixed in. Finally, I managed to rasp out, "Atlas? Is that you?"

The boy's face broke into a wide smile as he heard me speak his name. "Yeah, it's me," he said, his voice trembling with emotion. "You're awake!" He squeezed my hand tighter, tears welling up in his eyes.

As I stared at Atlas, I was struck by how different he looked. His once boyish features had sharpened, and his eyes seemed weary. It was as if the years had etched their mark on him while I was unconscious. I swallowed, my throat still dry and raspy, before finally asking, "Why am I here? And why do you look so... much older?"

Atlas glanced at the doctor, and I could see a flicker of uncertainty cross his face. The doctor looked uncomfortable as well, sensing the tension in the room. After a brief moment of silence, Atlas finally turned back to me and took a deep breath. "Clover... I don't know where to start," he said, his voice catching in his throat.

The doctor stepped forward, clearing his throat to introduce himself. "Hello Clover, I'm Dr. Johnson," he said with a friendly smile. "I've been overseeing your care while you were in the coma."

My mind was swimming with confusion and questions. I looked between Atlas and Dr. Johnson, feeling disoriented and out of my depth. "Coma?" I repeated, my voice barely above a whisper. "How long have I been asleep?"

Dr. Johnson grimaced slightly, clearly not relishing the task of having to explain the situation to me. "You've been in a coma for two years," he said gently. "You were involved in a car accident, and you've been in a medically induced coma until now."

My eyes widened in shock at his words. Two years. Two whole years of my life had vanished into the fog of unconsciousness. The implications of what he was saying sunk in slowly, and I felt a wave of disbelief wash over me.

I was still struggling to process everything i was hearing. The mention of a car accident confused me even more. I tried to recall any details, but it was as if my memory had been wiped clean. "I don't understand," I said, my voice faltering. "I don't remember anything about an accident. What happened?"

Dr. Johnson looked at me intently, studying my expression. "Can you tell me, Clover, if you remember anything about the accident or the events leading up to it?" he asked, his voice gentle yet firm.

I tried to focus on Dr. Johnson's question, but all I could recall was a faint, hazy memory. "I remember... I was at the beach," I said slowly. "I was sitting in the sand, and then... then I think I got hit in the head with a.. a football. But everything after that is just hazy."

Dr. Johnson nodded, encouraging me to continue. That's when Atlas spoke up, his voice filled with a mix of curiosity and hope. "Do you remember who threw the football, Clover?" he asked, leaning forward slightly.

I nodded weakly as the memory came back to me. "Yes, I remember now," I whisper. "It was you, Atlas. You threw the football. And there was another boy with you. He looked a little like you, except his hair was a little shorter."

Atlas perked up at the mention of the other boy's name. He looked at Dr. Johnson, his eyes widening before turning back to me. "Do you remember Brennan?" he asked.

I was still trying to piece together fragments of my memory, but it felt like I was missing so many crucial pieces. I looked at Atlas confused. "Who... who's Brennan?" I asked.