Slowly he regained consciousness, at first all there was was darkness, but soon he could recall memories, though a very select few. He could remember only three things. A name, a face, and a date. The name was Arryn, he assumed it belonged to the face he recalled. He didn't know why but he could tell the name wasn't his. The face belonged to a girl. She had long black hair, dark brown eyes, and full lips. Her cheekbones were defined but her face still held a minute sense of roundness to it. She was important to him, like a best friend, no she was more than that. He loved her but not in a romantic way, she was his family, his sister. The final thing he remembered was a date, July 16th. He had no idea what that date meant, only that it was important. After pondering this for a bit he decided to open his eyes and look around, maybe something he saw would help him retain his memories.
As he looked around he saw four bright colorless walls where white paint had been almost carelessly plastered on, and was starting to peel off. He looked down at his body and realized he was in a hospital bed with an I.V. pumping something into his arm. It looked like water, they were probably trying to keep him hydrated. Why was he in the hospital though? What had happened? Did that strange date have anything to do with it? He looked around and noticed something, in one of the chairs was the same girl from his memories. She was asleep but he could tell her eyes were puffy and her cheeks were tear stained. How long had she been here? How long had HE been here? He looked around trying to find a calendar or a clock. Anything that would give him some sense of time.
"Little bro?" His head shot back to her when she spoke, he must have been making enough noise to disrupt her sleep. "How are you feeling?" He tried to find his voice but his throat was raw and dry to a point he could barely croak.
"Here I'll get you some water." She got out of her chair and turned towards the sink just a couple of feet behind her. His eyes turned back to the ceiling above him. Who was he? And who was this girl? Was this his sister? He couldn't see clearly so he couldn't quite tell, and while she did call him her brother she may have just actually been just a very close friend. The girl finished pouring water and sat back down, handing him the cup. "Here, drink up." After she handed him the cup she reached into her pocket form a brown cylindrical object. She opened it and seemed to pull something out of it though he couldn't quite tell what it was. While she did this he took the cup and gulped down the water like a man who had been lost in the desert for years and, while it may have been unappealing, boring, tasteless water to most, to him it was an oasis of relief.
"Here" she said handing him whatever she pulled out of the cylinder "These are your glasses" He quickly slipped them on and suddenly everything became much cleare from the blurry mess it was before. Now that the boy could see he could tell that this was indeed the girl from his memories, the girl that he assumed to be his sister. " Now that you've had something to drink I'll ask again, how are you feeling?"
"Better now that I've had something to drink. Thank you...Arryn?" he asked her name cautiously, almost afraid to be wrong. Though if she was indeed the girl he remembered she might be able to lead him to more of his memories.
"That's right. I'm Arryn. The doctor said you would have lost your memories from the impact." Suddenly she smiled "I'm glad you still remember me though." Suddenly the door creaked open and an old man in his mid-to-late sixties came out. The doctor had short peppered grey hair and his face was wrinkled and rugged and he meandered around nonchalantly, constantly glancing down at the clipboard cradled in his arms and scribbling down notes.
"Ah yes, the man of the hour. I see you're feeling better" his voice was suave and reminded the boy of velvet.
"Yes I'm feeling much better. What happened to me though?"
YOU ARE READING
Memento Mori
Genel KurguA boy wakes up in a hospital with no memories of anything other than a face, a name and a date. Soon he finds out he may not have much longer to live. So what does he do? Every thing and anything he wants.