I spent the next few hours trying to pick apart my brain so I could remember something, remember anything. Okay, my name is Beca Mitchell. My parents are divorced. I live in Miami? I go to Barden? Or I went to Barden? I graduated? Everything is still pretty confusing.
I don't remember when I got this tattoo of a pair of headphones? I do remember that I am a music producer. Not because I actually remember, but because the TV in my room played this "Breaking News" story about how the "Grammy winning Beca Mitchell" was in an accident... The most troublesome part about this, is that name.. Chloe Beale.. Ever since I heard the doctor say it.. I don't know how to describe it.. I just got this feeling... And every time I shut my eyes, I see these flashes of red hair.
UGGGHHHH. NOT BEING ABLE TO REMEMBER ANYTHING SUCKS. My head has been throbbing for the past 4 hours. A doctor walked into my room with a tray of meds. Thank God.
"Hi there, Beca. How you feeling?" He asked, messing with some button on my IV machine.
"Uh.. good, I guess. My head still hurts, and I still can't remember anything."
"Well, Beca," The doctor said, taking a seat in front of me, "the gash on your head caused a lot of problems. Not just for us, but for you." He motioned at the wound on my head. I reached to touch it but winced as soon as my hand ghosted over it. "Beca, as for your memory... It will just take time.. Can you remember anything? Anything at all?"
I shut my eyes out of frustration, "Nothing. Somethings." I saw the flash of red hair again. "Someone.." I whispered. "Doc? Have you heard anything from that, Chloe Beale? Has anyone found her?" I asked, desperately wanting to remember.
"Uhm, I'm sorry, Beca, but no. A few other people have called for you though.. A Nick Hallow, he said he's your personal assistant. A Phil Mitchell, your father. He said he would visit as soon as he could get a flight. Also, a Marie Ellen, your mother. She told us to tell you to call as soon as you uhm..'feel better'" he told me, reading off a sticky note.
I just sat in disappointment. I wanted to know more.. My doctor gave me all of my medicine and left my room. Everything was starting to frustrate me. I couldn't remember anything. I couldn't touch my head. I couldn't move my leg. Where the hell did this cut come from? I couldn't even shut my eyes.. cause all I would see was red hair... Finally, my meds got the best of me. I was starting to feel groggy. My eyes were starting to shut.. Ugh. I finally just fell asleep.
