Remeniscing

"I dont know"

Georgia.

When you hear of Georgia, you think of heat. It's always hot there. In the 'winter', it's supposed to be 40 degrees, maybe lower. But no, in Georgia, it's 90 degrees instead. So why on Earth do they not have the air conditioning on in here?

That was my first thought when I woke up. From how long of a nap, I don't know. But it seemed long.

I looked to my left, where there was a bedside table with flowers and numerous 'Get Well Soon!' cards stacked up. I touched one of the dying flowers, and as my fingertips grazed its edge, the petal fell off. Delicately, though.

I finally started to take in my surroundings, which didn't seem like my bedroom at all. The pale white walls, traditional decor, and hospital bed didn't seem like something I would posses.

I lifted my hand towards my face, and noticed the several tubes attached to my arm. I watched as the blood pushed through the small things with ease.

Opening my mouth, I realized how dry my mouth was. Instinct caught up to me, and I looked around for a glass of water. Noticing one on the far right side of the table, I began to sit up to reach it.

A sharp pain flowed through my body, originating in my abdomen, which insisted I lay back down. I tried to think of what could possibly hurt this bad, only to not remember a thing.

A door opening interrupted my thoughts, and my eyes were torn from the sheets.

A tall man, probably in his fifties, walked through the door, a clipboard in hand. He was writing something down in it when he looked up and his eyes grew a little wider. "You're awake," he told me, as if I did not know this already. I nodded my head. "I need you to answer a few questions for me," he told me again, sitting down in a rolling chair beside my bed. I nodded once again.

He flipped through the thick stack of papers attached to the board, when he finally landed on one he wanted.

"How old are you?"

This wasn't very hard for me, as it was basic knowledge about who I am. "Seventeen," I told him.

He looked up from his clipboard, obviously not satisfied with my answer. He wrote something down.

"What's your name?"

"Julian"

"Last name?"

I thought for a moment.

"Kennedy," I told him.

He once again looked up from his notes with a dissatisfied look. If anything, he was confusing me. Would he like to pick my name?

"Do you know the year?"

I thought deeply, and tried to discretely look for a calendar in the room. When I couldn't find one, I said the first thing that came to mind.

"1964"

He wrote fast, as if he would forget what he was thinking if he didn't get it on the paper in front of him quickly.

He rose out of his chair, and stood with his hands folded in front of him.

"Julian, the year is 1968."

I looked at him in surprise. It couldn't be. I'm seventeen, not twenty-one.

Aren't I?

"Wh- ... How-"

I couldn't get anything out. I was so confused. My head began to pound.

"Are you sure?" I asked him.

He sighed. He clicked a button beside my bed, which made two women, who looked like nurses, walk into the room. They began to change the tubes attached to my body and one of them brought me the glass of water I desperately wanted minutes earlier. I heard quiet murmuring outside of the door, making me wonder who all was out there.

"I'm going to let a few people in to the room and I would like you to tell me if you recognize them. If you feel like it's too much or you, tell me immediately. We don't need your condition to get any worse."

My condition? All I could think of was how confused I was as the man walked outside of the door only to open it a few seconds later. Two people walked in, one a man, and one a woman. I immediately recognized them as my parents. My eyes lit up.

"Mama, Daddy!"

Their worried faces turned to ones of pure relief as the words left my lips. They came to my bed and each of them squeezed me in a hug. I was showered with kisses and 'I missed you's. The doctor asked me if I could tell him their names.

"Scott and Gracie Kennedy," I replied.

I wanted to ask them what was happening, and why I couldn't remember a thing. And why the doctor told me it was 1968 instead of 1964, and why he looked weird when I told him my last name. But, something told me they were instructed not to tell me.

After a few more minutes of catching up, they were motioned to exit the room. We exchanged goodbyes, and they walked out smiling.

The next person to enter the room was a girl, who looked a few years older than me. She had obviously been crying, and the cause, I did not know. It took me a few seconds longer than it took to know my parents names, but eventually I recognized her as my sister. Sarah-Lynn Kennedy.

I broke this news to the doctor, and he smiled, telling me I was correct. This only made the girl cry harder, but I knew they were happy tears. We exchanged words, and I could tell the doctor wanted to get to the next person. So, she told me she would talk to me later, and exited the room.

The doctor exited to room with her, and was gone a little longer than he was with my earlier family members. I waited patently, almost giddy to meet the next person.

The door opened slowly and the doctor entered again. I was almost confused when someone didn't enter immediately after, but when they did, I tried to study their face.

It was a man this time, tall. His height was the first thing I noticed of him.

He had chestnut brown hair, and eyes that were a beautiful emerald green. I felt as if I could stare at them forever, but I realized that would be pretty weird.

He looked visibly nervous, and his broad (obviously muscular) shoulders were slouched over. He looked the most drained out of the visitors who had previously entered. I wondered what could've made him this tired. Could it have been me?

His breaths were shallow as I tried to think hard about who he was. I felt as if it were my duty to know his name. He played with his fingers as he waited for me to say the words.

"Take your time," I heard the doctor say.

I thought hard. I thought of the years of school I could've met him in, the daily supermarket visits, the beach trips, but all to draw a blank.

I could tell he was hopeful, his eyes drilling into mine as I thought.

But, these hopeful eyes fell, and he began to tear up as I said three words,

"I don't know."

---

I've been wanting to write this one for a while! Hope you guys like it!

-H