Half A Heart

New Life or Death?

When I wake up a few days after I fell asleep, I start to get worried that my injuries might be worse then I expected.

I decide to get the doctor to take another look at it.

I don't even bother making myself overly presentable. A pair of skinny jeans, a baggy sweatshirt, and a messy ponytail will have to do for now. It's not like I'm going on a date.

Before driving to my family doctors office, I call to let them know I will be arriving shortly. I would hate to drive all the way there, only to find out they're closed, or all booked up.

Like I said before, I hate driving. If I could, I would walk everywhere, but trust me, there is no house in Morrison County with all the necessities within walking distance.

Morrison County is a plain old town with only one gas station, and a Wal-Mart. We have something called "Bargain Barn" as well, but it's pretty much an old barn that was slightly renovated, filled with all types of junk.

That's why I want to get out and see the world. I don't want to be held in this town any longer-I swear it's killing me. It's always been my dream to live in England. That's actually where I was planning to move to after University.

The culture and beauty in England has always excited me. It also helps that I love British accents.

Harry!

I completely forgot about the curly haired boy that was in my room just 3 days ago. It seems so far away now.

Now it's all coming back to me. His green eyes that sparkled in the sunlight, his barely noticeable dimples, and his wide smile surrounded by soft pink lips.

I'm almost self embarrassed with my thoughts. I've never really looked at a boy before long enough to notice the little things that make up his face. Harry made my stomach feel all jumpy, and my cheeks hot.

It was a weird feeling, but it made me feel excited and free. I guess that's why I let a complete stranger cloud my good judgement.

As I pull up to the office, my phone beeps. My lock screen only gives me a preview, but I know it's from Harry.

*Hey. I just wanted to check and see how you're doing. If you need anything just call, ok?*

I text back so quickly, he probably thinks I was waiting by the phone for him to text me.

*Ok thanks, and yes I'm doing better, just at the doctors for a little check-up. You've been so helpful, I can't thank you enough.*

He texts back only a minute later, making me feel slightly disappointed. I'm not sure why though. I've never texted anyone other than my father and sister before they died, and I've had the same phone since then, so what reason do I have to be disappointed by the timing of a text?

*Ok, hope all goes well. Text me when it's over, so I know how it went.*

Again, I don't even hesitate before texting back.

*Will do*

I shut my phone off and walk inside. The building is very small, almost like a house, that was turned into an office. The secretary that works there has been the same lady for as long as I can remember. She's very snobby, and doesn't speak a single word to anyone-even the doctor.

I sign in, and take a seat beside an old gentleman who slightly smiles at me, and pick up a trashy gossip magazine. I've never picked one of these up before in my life, so why now?

I don't recognize one single person on the cover. Who is Kim Kardashian, or One Direction? Even though I don't understand one single article, I continue to read. I'm about half way through the magazine, when the doctor calls my name. I was just getting to the article about the band named One Direction.

I think I've heard girls at school talk about the boys in that band, but I've never heard one of their songs, and I have no clue what they look like.

As my doctor directs me to the room I'll be in, my thoughts go back to normal. I don't remember his name, but I do know he's old and has grey hair.

"Good morning, Allyson. What've we got here?"' He starts every visit with the same two sentences.

I don't really want to tell him what really happened. He probably won't understand my situation, and suggest calling the cops-which I can't do.

So I decide on this alibi; "I was walking to school and I tripped on the crevice of a broken down sidewalk. I guess I must've fallen pretty hard." I know it's unbelievable and common, but it was the first thing that popped into my mind.

"Ok, well it looks pretty bad around your skull. Do you mind if we take some x-rays?" He impatiently asks, making me wonder if that was a question, or a demand.

I nod, not wanting to say anything. He directs me toward the corner of the room with heavy equipment and large coats. He starts mumbling a bunch of medical terms, and I try my very best not to fall asleep.

Next thing I know I'm wearing a heavy coat, and the room is pitch black.

"Ok Allyson, stay nice and still while the machine circles you head." This shouldn't be happening. If I had just stayed home that day, I wouldn't be in this situation.

As the machine comes to a abrupt stop, I open my eyes and I'm alone; the doctor must be checking my x-rays.

I decide to lay down on the bed until he comes back.

What could be wrong with my skull? Why did I have to have x-rays done? I tell myself it's just a simple precaution as I drift off.

***

"Miss Thomas!" I sit up straight so fast, I feel my back muscles tug.

"Sorry, I'm just really tired." I shrug and apologize.

"That's fine but I do have some bad news. Your skull is slightly indented, and I'm afraid it might affect the blood flow to your brain. We're going to have to perform a special surgery."

"Surgery?" I choke. "How will I pay for that?"

"You don't have to worry about cost, it's all covered through you medical insurance. But there is something else you have to know." He looks down at the ground.

I nod for him to continue, and he barely whispers; "You have two options Allyson. If you don't have the surgery, you could loose many brain cells that help you function, which will lead to death."

I feel my eyes tear up, but don't feel the tears fall down my already hot cheeks.

"Or," he continues; "You could have the surgery, but if you do, it comes with an un-payable price. For this specific surgery, we will have to enter a certain part of your brain and after we enter, that section will be affected severely."

"How?" I am defiantly crying now.

"Well I'm sorry to say this, but you would loose all your memories." He looks up at my face, and seems surprised at my reaction.

At those words, my tears stopped instantaneously.