Insanity

Chapter Twelve

"Sweetheart, can you hear me?!"
My eyelids fly open and I quickly sit up, my back cold and damp with sweat as I look at my father, taking in the expression on his face, full of worry and confusion, his hands letting go of my shoulders as he breathes out a sigh of relief.
"Don't worry", I pant, forcing a smile onto my face. "Happens all the time."
"Once you've healed a little more, I'm taking you to a doctor to get medicine for this", he says, clenching his hands into fists. "When I get my hands on those fucking bastards..." He trails off with a sigh. "What did you see?"
"When my memories were erased."
Jonathon runs a hand through his hair, pasting on a smile for me as he holds up a blanket with one hand.
"Let's just put it behind us", he says. "You're home, and you're safe. Okay?"
I nod my head and take it, curling up with it around my shoulders.
"I'll turn on the fireplace for you", my father says quietly, giving my shoulder a squeeze before rising up to his feet. "Get some rest. We can talk more in the morning, okay?"
"Okay", I mumble, my eyes already starting to close as the world around me gets dark.
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I wake up lying in a bed, my head pounding and empty. A man with mesmerizing brown eyes looks down at me, unblinking.
I scream and try to jerk into a sitting position, crying out in pain before falling back down onto the pillows, kicking him as he reaches over to feel my forehead.
"It's okay", he soothes, gently pressing down on my collarbone in an effort to keep me still "I can help you. Just lie still and it won't hurt anymore."
"W- Who are you?", I stammer fearfully, giving in to his strong grip. "And who am I?"
"Your name is Theresa", he says. "You're my fiancé. My name is Jake."
"I don't remember you", I mumble weakly. "Why don't I remember?"
"You were in a car crash", Jake explains, ducking his head. "There was a collision. You've been in a coma for the past week."
"I don't remember!", I wail, curling up on my side, sobbing into my pillow. "I don't remember!"
He rubs my back comfortingly and says, "Don't worry, Cupcake. Everything will be okay. You're gonna get better, I promise."
I sit up quickly on the couch, holding my head in my hand before flopping back down.
I don't want to think about that anymore.
After a moment, I set the blanket aside before getting to my feet and limping over to the table. Taking a seat, I bury my face in my hands, resting my forehead on the wood, sighing as I blink away tears.
"Never took you for a crier."
I lift up my head for a moment then let it drop. "I'm not crying. What are you doing here anyway?"
"Dad's making me watch you", Kylie sighs, sitting down in the chair beside mine. "All I heard on the phone was something about a wheelchair."
I sit up straight and look at her and sigh, "I somehow remember you have a talent for insulting me. You can go ahead and do so if you want. I don't care."
"I reacted horribly yesterday."
My head snaps up. "What?" I stare at Kylie in shock.
"I have been such a horrible person", my sister says. "And I am so so sorry. When people told me you were most likely dead, I completely broke down for the next week. And when I saw you in that hospital bed, all those horrible feelings just came rushing back."
I watch her start to cry with my mouth hanging open before reaching over to take her hand.
"Dad isn't making you watch me", I say slowly. "I have a feeling you volunteered."
"Yeah", she sniffs. "I wanted to make this right. Maybe both of us can get a fresh start."
I smile, tears filling my own eyes. "I'd like that, Kylie."
"You have no idea how good it feels to hear you say my name", my sister says. "I missed you."
"I missed you too", I whisper back.
Kylie lets out a breath. "That felt good", she chuckles. "So, what now?"
"Breakfast would be nice." I smile and squeeze her hand.
My sister laughs again. "You can make your own damn breakfast", she says, shaking her finger at me. "You understand?"
"I don't remember how to cook", I confess, my cheeks getting warm as she stares at me.
"Tell me you're joking", Kylie gasps. "Oh come on. You must be kidding."
"I'm not joking", I reply. "I can make coffee. And sandwiches. Pretty much it."
She laughs. "Okay, you make us coffee, and I will make us the rest. Deal?"
"Get me into a kitchen and you got it", I say. "On one condition though."
"'Kay."
"Keep me away from the knife drawer", I tell her. "I know it sounds crazy, but trust me, okay?"
"Sure." Kylie stands up and holds out her hand. "Shall we?"
I smile and take it, grunting as I rise to my feet.
So this is what it's like to be home.