Remember Me

Chapter 9.

“I’m not going to that psychiatrist, Amanda. Thanks for your concern, really, but no.” Blake said firmly. He was sitting in the kitchen table facing Amanda. He hadn’t slept much the previous night. He looked awful, his eye was still a bit swollen and his dark circles made him look older than he was. Amanda was trying to convince him to go to the psychiatrist she and Marc had contacted, but Blake was definitely not going. He was afraid that they would lock him up instantly; he didn’t want to think Amanda would do that, but maybe she thought that was the only way to fix him. He wished it wasn’t.

“Blake…” Amanda said, trying to find the words. She knew she had lost this battle to Blake.

Blake stood up, almost knocking the chair over. He was angry and frustrated, but most of all, scared. He had spent the whole night thinking over and over who Margot had been, what she had done. When he thought about her when she was alive and well it felt like she was still like that in Blake’s mind, alive and well. It pained him to know she wasn’t, and even more that she was simply forgotten. How? How? Why? Why? Those were the questions in Blake’s head, wondering and analyzing. Was he crazy? Were the others crazy? Had Margot been real? Had she been a figment of his imagination? What about the pictures? What did they mean? He was exhausted; he wished his brain had an off switch so he could turn off the endless chain of thoughts that circled it constantly.

“Blake, I know how upset you are. If you don’t want to seek help, fine… That’s your decision, you’re an adult. But, is there anything I can do? I hate seeing you like this. Mom would have hated to see you like this” Amanda said, and Blake could see the concern in her eyes. Why was she being so nice to him? He didn’t deserve such sympathy. He hurt everyone he loved.

“You know how you can help?” Blake asked, afraid of hearing his own voice, afraid of saying something hurtful.

“How?” Amanda responded, hoping she would be able to help him.

“Tell me Margot was real. Tell me someone else remembers her.” Blake said, tears filling his eyes. He was so tired of crying, so tired of everything.

“Blake… I don’t know that, and I’m sorry. I have seriously spent entire nights awake trying to remember who she was, what she looked like apart from the pictures, if I ever met her, but I simply can’t and it makes me feel so bad. I don’t want you to suffer anymore; I wish you could find someone who remembers her. I really do.” Amanda said, looking straight into Blake’s eyes. He knew what she said was real, and he felt horrible for bringing this upon her. She didn’t deserve this, only him.

“I’m so sorry, Amanda I didn’t mean to bring this upon you, you don’t deserve this, and you don’t deserve having to deal with someone as pathetic as me. I’m sorry, I love you” Blake spoke, unable to stop his crying. He went over and hugged Amanda tight, as if she might slip away.

“I love you, too. Its okay, I’m here for you.” She said, and Blake could tell that she was crying, too.

“Thank you. I’m going upstairs, I need to sit down for a little bit” he told her, feeling the exhaustion wash upon him like a crashing wave. He wanted to sleep for a thousand years, he wanted to forget everything. Click a reset button and start all over.

He went upstairs and sat down on his bed, feeling shaky. What was he going to do now? Should he keep looking for what he feared wasn’t there, or should he forget about it and constantly live with the thought that she may have not been real? Who could help him? What else what he supposed to do? He remembered what Mr. Norwood told him about where he should look, but, could he find what he was looking for by doing that? As if someone up there was listening to his thoughts, his phone started to ring. It was Mr. Norwood.