This Can't Be Real

Chapter 4

“You don't have to come and stay with me just to make me happy,” Jess tells me while pulling my suitcase out the boot of her car.

After I agreed to go home with Jess, I was given an extra two days in hospital to rest and be assessed before actually being discharged. This morning, Jess had arrived at the hospital bright and early, almost two full hours before I was actually meant to be leaving, just so she could dress me up like a rag doll for my introduction back into the world outside my room's four walls.

If it's even possible, I think she turned up with an extra two suitcases that were full of clothes, shoes, accessories, and even hair and make-up products. She had no idea what I wanted to wear, hence the reason why she brought everything with her.

Most of the things she brought with her were unacceptable for leaving a hospital after being stuck inside of it for a few weeks. The items she brought seemed to fall into the night out category.

In the end though, we both agreed on a simple dark blue jeans and plain white vest top combo. My flat black shoes and black cardigan were my accessories. I just pulled my hair up into a messy ponytail and didn't bother to put any make-up on, much to Jess's hatred. She thought I could be doing with a bit of colour since I, and I quote, “looked like a ghost.”

“I told you that I wanted to stay with you. If what you said to me is true, it'd be too risky to go to the home I apparently share with Joe.” I explain with a small smile. “You didn't see how he reacted to me not remembering him. I don't think it'd be fair on Zachary if I had to do that to him too.”

“Fair enough,” she shrugs.

Closing the boot over and locking the car, I help her to manoeuvre the suitcases up the monoblocked driveway and garden path. While waiting for her to unlock the front door, I can't help but glance up at the house. I can remember her moving but I don't remember ever coming to visit her at her new house. It must have happened after the date in which I can remember.

The hallway is painted bright white and leads straight to the kitchen which is directly in front of us. Just beyond the front door, after the small sideboard, is a white door which I can only take to be the downstairs bathroom. Next to the door is the staircase leading to the room up the stairs and finally, on the left across from the stairs, is the entryway to the living room.

So far, from what I can see, Jess has done well for herself.

“Just close the door behind you and make yourself at home,” she tells me, dropping her car keys and house keys into the glass bowl that's sitting on the small sideboard between the front door and downstairs bathroom. “I'll be right down after I put your suitcases up in your room.”

I nod and close the door over. I leave the suitcase I was helping her with, near the bottom of the stairs and walk into the living room.

It's very spacious and runs the entire length of the house. There's bay windows to my left that look out onto the front garden, and to my right, a set of french doors leading out to the back garden. I can't tell if the walls have been painted or wallpapered, but judging by the colour of them and the texture that's a berry kinda colour, I can only guess that it's wallpaper.

I walk round the luxurious white leather couch to the fireplace. It's the pictures that have caught my attention, never mind the white granite fireplace itself. I run my hand along the top of the smooth surface, taking in each picture as I do so.

There's six all together: one of her with her parents, one of us two together when we were younger, one of us with the rest of our friends from our first holiday abroad, one of her with her entire family at a party, one of her with her grandparents, then the one I didn't expect.