Forgotten Spark

Chapter 1

I felt a painful throbbing in the back of my head. I heard a snap of electricity, and felt a tickle to go along with it, along the place the throbbing was most concentrated.

That should have hurt me, said a voice in the back of my head. It sounded like I'd just been shocked, but all I felt was the throbbing lessening, somewhat. But  almost immediately after, the pain returned with all its fury. I couldn't concentrate enough to figure out what had just happened. There was just too much pain!

And there was something I needed to do. Someone I needed to meet somewhere. I tried to remember, but the agony kept me from being able to think, much less recall anything.

I tried to open my eyes, but the sun was right above my head, forcing me to close them again. I tried to get a hold of my surroundings, despite being practically blinded.

I was lying on rough concrete, with voices chattering around me. Most of them sounded like men. I could feel the heat rising off the concrete even as I lay there. I desperately wanted a glass of water. I must've been somewhere in southwest USA, for it to be this hot and dry.

I told myself that I had to open my eyes, and tried again. I tried to look around, but I only saw stars, so I gave up. Somehow, I convinced myself that I needed to sit up, and I would be able to see what what around me. I clenched my teeth and sat up. Or, at least, I made the attempt. I ended up falling back down, and to break the fall, I rolled unto my stomach. I felt bruised from head to toe, and the ache in the back of my head suddenly felt like an ax searing through my skull. I groaned, and squeezed my head. I felt like if I didn't hold the pieces of my skull together, my brains would explode.

I still felt like there was something I should be doing, like I was forgetting about something, or someone, but the pain in my skull kept me from being able to remember that kind of stuff.

The pain worsened again, and I couldn't keep myself from crying out. I think this caught people's attention, as I started to hear concerned voices coming closer. I couldn't understand anything anyone was saying, but I felt confident that they were helping.

I felt a hand on my shoulder, and heard a voice, but it was all fading fast.

As I slipped into unconsciousness, I thought I heard sirens on the distance.

_____

I woke up in a hospital bed. Everything was a sterile white, but the air had a certain mustiness about it. Despite that, I felt comfortable. There was something about the constant beeping that made me feel safe.

I noticed that the throbbing in my head was not nearly as bad as it was before I'd passed out, just a slight, dull, ache now. I remembered that there was something I was forgetting about. I tried to recall it back to my mind, but it slipped away, leaving me feeling lost and empty.

A nurse walked in the room, presumably to check my vitals, and whatever else doctors did. She saw me looking at her and gasped. She dropped her clipboard and rushed out.

That was weird, I thought.

Moments later, a doctor walked into the room. He was average height, which was taller than me. His eyes were wide, and he was out of breath. The nurse was standing in the doorway behind him.

"You're awake?"

I was very confused. Awake? "Yeah...." I replied, slowly, "Wait, how long was I asleep?" It felt like I'd been out a day or two. Maybe a week, but that was stretching it.

The doctor looked hesitant to answer. "Well, it almost been six months," he said, finally.

My jaw dropped. "Wha--what happened?" The nurse looked like she remembered something and left.

"It looked like you'd been it a fight, though I have no idea why you would, seeing as those guys are meaner and tougher than bulls. Honestly, I'm surprised you survived at all. Anyway, you were found in the street, with a serious head wound. We had to give you immediate surgery, and then you went into a coma. We weren't very confident you'd pull through alright."

At those words, I shook my head. I didn't feel right. It was as if someone had stolen something from me. I tried to think of any fight I could have gotten into, but it just turned up as a blank. I realized that I couldn't remember anything about my past, except my name.

My name is Michael. I couldn't even remember a last name.

The doctor kept talking. "I suppose I should introduce myself. You can call me Dr. Francis." He finally noticed me in my sorrow. "Is everything alright?"

I shook my head again. "No."

Dr. Francis furrowed his eyebrows. "What's wrong?" I didn't reply. I didn't think there was anything he could do to help, and I was holding back the urge to cry. "You're going to have to tell me, or I can't help you."

I looked at him, tears forming in my eyes. I looked back down as I took a shaky breath. Then I told him, "I can't remember anything."

He didn't look as surprised as I was expecting. "Nothing?" he asked.

"All I can remember is my name. Michael. I can't remember anything else. Not even my last name!"

He sighed. "We were afraid of that. We found severe damage to the hippocampus, which is the part of the brain that deals with memories. Though it seems that the blow to your head did not initially damage the hippocampus, that is where we found the most damage. We were forced to perform a procedure in which we knew that we would not be able to restore it completely, and that memory loss was a serious possibility." He look at me sadly. "There was no other way to save your life."

I took a deep breath, the lump in my throat refusing to shrink. "Will I ever get it back?"

"Over time, possibly, but it's not likely anytime in the near future."

I didn't say anything to that. Dr. Francis finished his checkup on me, then turned to leave. Before he closed the door, he added, "One more thing. It may be too early to tell, so it's only a theory, but we believe that the memories up until the last two or three years may be less damaged than your most recent memories. With time and therapy, we might be able to retrieve some of the biggest ones. Just thought you'd want to know that." He tried to give me a reassuring smile, but gave up and left the room.

I blinked. I would never get those memories back? I had never felt so hopeless in my life. At least, that I could remember. Which wasn't saying much. I sighed, tragically lost.

I thought about the things I'd lost. Did I have any friends? Did I hang out with them a lot? What kind of things did I like to do? What were my parents like? I had a feeling that one of them had died when I was young, but anytime I got close to what I thought was an answer, it drifted away, out of reach.

As I continually tried to grab on to something, anything familiar, I started to get a headache, and decided to stop. I sadly fell into a restless sleep.