Dazed

Chapter 2

The two weeks in the hospital consist of those weird dreams. I am always this girl called 'Addi' or 'Addison'. The plot of fighting parents and annoying siblings continues. The dreams always start where the last one left off. The doctors say it's from the pain medicine, but I have been getting smaller amounts of the medicine and the dreams never lose momentum. They just continue, end to beginning.

Last night 'Addi's' parents finally get divorced and the dad has the siblings. 'Addi' moved to some place in Colorado with her mom where she went from top of the popularity rank, to the bottom. Oh, and some creeper in a white van is stalking her and this other guy, who, might I say, is pretty attractive, is dating her.

I am still very confused about myself. I keep having to look at my wristband to know my name is Maliee Jay. I don't know my middle name yet. My dad tells my my favorite color is pink, I love salads and I am an only child. He answers every one of my questions until I ask him about my mom. That's when he changes the subject to the weather or how my aunt and dog will be excited to see me.

I was being wheeled out of the hospital when I was told he moved while I was being treated. He says he wants to be far from the neighborhood that I was hurt in. It's an amazing coincidence that we are moving to Colorado. Far from Florida. Great.

How am I going to get to know about myself now? I don't remember anything. Not the accident, before the accident, I don't recognize faces or people. I remember absolutely nothing. Nada. 

The doctor hasn't given me permissions to fly, so we have been staying in a hotel for a while because the house was already sold. It's not like there is anything for me to do. I sit around. Sleep. Think. Re-discover my favorite TV shows. I'm not allowed to use my cell phone (if I have one) or the internet.

My dad also has me catching up on my school studies. It's all coming back to me, little by little. Math, english, history, everything school related. But that never triggers memories of my friends of my life in general. Overall, it sucks.

Sometimes I turn to the news and see if there are any updates on the missing girl in Colorado. Coincidentally, her name is Addison and resembles the girl in my dreams. So does the mother that speaks for the person holding her hostage to turn her over. They say she was hit in her car and kidnapped after. There are old reports of a guy in a white minivan stalking her and they believe he was the one who took her.

Everything about this is weird. There is no denying that this is due to the medication. Maybe while I was in the hospital, the news was on and I glanced at it in my dazed state and it stuck with me. All I know is that my dreams are no way on the same track as the investigation. I glance at the remote and think about changing the channel when my dad walks in.

"It's done. You're all good. Time to buy the tickets and get far away from here. Start packing your stuff and I will get online." He rushes past me to the laptop while I turn the TV off and make my way to the duffel bags. They smell like aftershave and dust, not a great combo. I zip them up when they are stuffed to the core and turn to find my dad over my shoulder, offering me my medicine. "Take your meds."

I nod and follow his instructions although I hate how bipolar they make me. He winces at my immediate obedience. Did I easily obey him or always put up a fight? I shake it off and swallow the pill. "Dad?" He glances at me in reply. "How am I supposed to remember who I am when we are moving? When I will lose my friends that are going to help me remember? Basically, I am saying I am scared."

"You think your friends will help you? They are the ones who ran! When you got hit, they ditched! Don't you ever speak of it again! You will find yourself some other way!" His hands clench into fists and his face turns red, but I can't help but ignore his warning. I mean, teens rebel, right?

"But-" He sprints toward me and gains momentum with his arm. I start to scream when his hand hits my cheek. My hand covers it as tears take over my face. I look at my dad and see his own shocked expression. I race for the bathroom with salty water streaming down my face. I start sobbing.

What in the world made him do that? All I said was but! Maybe the meds don't make me bipolar. Maybe I get it from him. 

"Mailee, I am sorry. Come on, we are going to miss our flight. Let's just forget about this." I ignore him and he continues to trying to coax me out. "May, please?" He tries this for ten minutes before he gets aggressive. "Mailee, get out here this instant!" He bangs on the door as if it were a punching bag. I slowly make my way out.

"Did you forget I have head injuries? I can call you in for child abuse right now! What is your issue?" I keep going on this yelling rampage for a while, pointing fingers at him. That is until he pulls a gun out.

Haven't I seen this gun before?

"Here is the deal Mailee, you are going to put on some girly powder crap to cover that up. Then you are going to apologize to me and pack the car. We are going to then go to the airport and get out of here. Understand?"

I stare down the width of the gun and nod, slowly. I unpack my makeup bag and go to the bathroom with my dad over my shoulder. I bite my tongue hoping to concentrate more on that pain than the one running through my head. When I am finished I hug him and say sorry, re-pack the makeup and load the car.

My head continues to throb and my hands shake uncontrollably. I keep glancing at the gun in his pocket. The ride to the airport is intense. He lectures me the whole time. "You're my only daughter, how could I? But you are not to talk back or question me, young lady."

This whole time, I keep getting the same vision. Addison, looking at a gun, in a van. I try to shake it, but I can't. I try to pay attention to my dad and nod and agree, but my mind always finds it's way back to the vision. Once we get to the airport, we make our way to the plane. I realize halfway into the flight that we are in first class. I guess I am too distracted. The flashes won't stop.