Flashback

Chapter 2

Chapter Two: The First Memory

My bedroom wasn't small but it wasn't large either. I guess you could say it was just the right size. My grandmother told me that she hadn't changed my room around, not even a little bit. I wish that I could say I rembered how much I loved or hated this room. It was a fairly simple bedroom. The walls were stained white and it didn't look like there was a scrath on them. There was a queen sized bed with brown bedsheets in the middle of the room and brown curtains hanging from the window to the left of my bed. There were no posters or paintings on the walls except for a white rectangular canvas that had a hand drawn, muscular bird on it. In the top right hand corner in what looked like black marker it read, The ones. The Great. The Best. We are the... In big orange and green, bubbled letters it spelled Hurricanes and just above that in smaller letters were Miami. Behind those words were what looked like rock, as if the big bird broke through it.

I walked over to my bed and crawled on top of it, laying on my back and staring at the ceiling. I was so exhausted; all I could wish for right now was some sleep. I didn't want to sleep though, I wanted to stay awake and try to remember something, to remember anything. I looked to my left and saw a photo of a man and a woman holding a little girl in their arms. The little girl appeared to be about seven years of age. She had brown hair, big brown eyes, and a huge smile on her face. She looked really happy, as did her parents. The mother and the little girl could not look more alike. The mother had brown hair too, only her eyes were light brown. Her husband, or who I can assume to be her husband, had black hair and blue eyes with a big, white smile to match. I didn't recognize them at all but something tells me that I knew them and something else tells me that I was the little girl from the picture. I picked up the wooden picture frame and slid my hand along the glass that protected the photo. Even though I couldn't remember a thing about them, I somehow missed them.

As I stared at the photo in my hands, I felt myself start to cry. It was the first emotioin I had since I've been home. I had been robbed of my memories. I had been robbed of two of the most important people in my life. I was scared, I was hurt. And even though I didn't know her, I wished my mother was here so I could confide in her. And as I sat there in tears, I began to remember something. I began to remember a moment with my mother.

A knock on my bedroom door interrupted my thoughts. "Hazel?" My grandmother called, opening my bedroom door and taking a peek inside.

"Yes?" I answered.

"Would you like to go to the market with me?: She asked. "I wanted to go buy some fresh meat. I wanted to make some sandwiches."

"No, thank you though." I softly smiled. "I'm still so tired."

"Okay. I'll be back in an hour. Will you be okay by yourself?"

I nodded. "I'll see you later, grandmother."

I watched as the little old lady exited my room. As soon as she was gone, I set the photo back in its rightful place. I got up from the spot on my bed and closed the curtains that hung on the sides of my window. I want to try to remember what it was that I had begun to remember before my grandmother walked in. I walked back over to my bed and snuggled under the covers, trying to get cozy and warm. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, trying to relax.

I was calm, no longer upset, and it seemed to me that whatever I was close to remembering was triggered by my melancholy state. It could have been my first memory, but sadly it slipped away. Sleep called to me. My eyes would no longer open. I hadn't had the chance to fall asleep yet. I was scared to sleep again. I didn't want to forget anything else and more importantly, I didn't want to fall asleep for another six months. I feared not being able to wake up, ever again.