Olivia Wild puzzle pieces

chapter one

The colors were all slowly blending together. and the perfect picture was now fading away. You could tell something was meant to be there, but the details are missing. The painting is a clear representation of how my memories were missing and my past wasn't complete. The puzzle pieces were always scattered across the table. And every now and then, I could see the image coming together.

And just like that, I could no longer see the image. I was back to square one, figuring out the next move. The next piece is where it should go.

Sometimes I stare at the puzzles, wondering if maybe they would all somehow come together again. And that image of me would be complete.

The doctors say don't rush it! Give it time! My memories will all come back, and I'll find me again. I needed to know: who is Olivia Wild? I didn't have all the answers I needed. In the stories I was told each chapter was not finished because the facts weren't all there. And for once, I wanted to somehow write my own chapters, and I wanted to finish each chapter. I wanted to write a new one where the old me would meet the new me and it would all come together.

I looked around the room. They had updated the place with a fresh coating of white paint. It is no longer that yellow pastel colors on the walls. You can tell it was recently done. The walls even had more pictures added to them. Some old and some new.  Pictures I never really cared much about, even when I was younger, Random cartoon drawings and paintings of abstracts. All the other kids would stare and laugh at them. I clearly missed the memo and never understood the inside jokes. Even as a teenager, I still don’t understand. Maybe it’s my problem. Maybe my imagination box has always been broken. There's an oak tree outside the window that, for some reason, always catches my attention. I could stare at the leaves and watch how they changed each new season. How the snow would settle among the branches or how the sun would shine through each leaf. I always saw the beauty in its small details.

I am quickly pulled back to reality as the scent of someone’s cologne filled the room. I looked up to see Dr. Evans son, Brooks, entering the room. This was the first time I'd ever seen him. He is the younger, hot version is Dr. Evans. His light brown hair gelled back, revealing his gray eyes; you could tell he works out. His body looked quite fit under his dress shirt. 

" hello Olivia. My name is Brooks... I wanted to come in and say hello" He says. He seems to be nervous. “I’m shadowing today. I hope you don’t mind me sitting in on your session”

I looked up and said, "No not at all. nice to meet you". Dr. Evan had finally walked in, but he wasn't alone he had brought Detective Landon Moore in with him and a woman I’ve never seen before. I hadn't seen him in over five years. It bit strange to see him All sudden .Maybe they decided to reopen my mom’s case up again? Why else would he be here?

“ If you are here to ask more questions about that night. Your out of luck” I looked back down at my sketch book.

“ I have decided to reopen your mom’s case again. It’s been long time since the last time we talked. I was hoping to go over some details again that you’ve already shared or maybe you there’s more you remember? Oh don’t worry this my partner Marie.” He says.

“Why? I thought you gave up?” I asked.

“We never gave up.”

Dr. Evans chimes in “ I don’t think Carey would like that. I’m sure she would want to be present”

Landon holds up his hand telling Dr. Evans to stop talking.

Can you show me your drawings? He asked.

I hesitant at first to show him my work as this is my personal diary and has been during the past five years. It is full of artwork and words full of all my secrets and thoughts. He pauses on the page and glanced at the image. It’s a drawing of pieces of puzzles shaped in form of a face, but it’s just eyes and eyebrows. It isn’t quite finished, though. Mainly because I couldn’t remember what the person looked like. Only the eyes are the only thing I remember.