Perspective

The Beginning In The End

The piece that I remember most is the thunderous crash and crunching metal and I can also recall the shrill screech of tires on the road along with my mother shouting my name. 

And then, it's all one big blank. It's all six months of my life, gone. Eight months including my time in the hospital after I woke up. I don't remember anything before I woke up, it was just blank. Like I had been asleep for too long. For six months, it was as if I didn't exist. Sometimes I wished I could go back to that time, that probably sounds foolish.

 There was no bright light, no soft harp and clouds from heaven or anything that I expected when you slip into a near death experience. That terrified me.

I never thought I would die at seventeen-years old, but a person never really does know when they're going to die. Death is easy, in my experience. Death is just your last thoughts, your last emotions and then everything went white and I was asleep for six months. At least that was my experience. I was rushed to the hospital with severe head trauma and broken bones as well as a broken face, I might add. It seemed as if the scars on my face would never heal, it took months. I suppose I would have cared a lot more if I hadn't have lost my memory.

My parents never gave up hope that I would wake up. My mother says she would read to me during the day, and my friends would drop off cards and always wishing my family the best and how sorry they were that this happened to me.

 Mom says that the doctors were even thinking about pulling the plug for a long time. But my parents had too much faith that I would wake up and she refused. I can't imagine having a child in the hospital for so long and being asked if I wanted to give up on them.

And then about six months of nothing but hope and faith, I did wake up. My eyes fluttered open, and my mother was at my bedside, fast asleep. She opened her eyes, rubbing the exhaust away and she started bawling when she saw me. She draped herself over me, thanking God and asking me how I was feeling over and over.

When I looked at her, this woman with a heart shaped face framed by wavy soft brown hair touching her shoulders and two pretty aqua colored gems in her face, I realized I had no idea who she was.

"M-my head hurts." I told her. "And... who are you?" Shock swept over her face and she rushed to find a doctor.

The doctor declared that I had amnesia, and it could be permanent or just temporary and my memories would slowly return to me with time but given my condition and the damage to my brain, it was most likely permanent. I remember laying there, in the hospital bed with the itchy sheets and watching my mom and dad react to what the doctor was telling them. My mother began to tear up and cried on dad's shoulder. I felt confused and obliged to comfort her despite I didn't know her.

My father was a man of kindness, and sincerity. Those were the vibes I felt immediately after he had to reintroduce himself to me. After slowly getting more acquainted with him day by day, he would stroke my hair and kiss my head and he would tell me that eventually I would remember everything. I tried to go along with it, act like a normal teenage daughter and agree. But, being I couldn't remember anything it felt entirely too weird to have this stranger telling me all of this.

"I-I wish I could remember." I would tell him. "But, I don't."

"You will, Charly. With time, I'm sure you will."

So, after two more months of bedside manner and hospital food, I got to return home. My house was two stories and actually very pretty. Two circular windows on either side at the top story, white curtains framing both windows. There were baby blue shudders on the cylinder shaped windows on the lower story. The outside of my house was mostly eggshell colored with a sky blue colored door and a stain glass window to look into.The front yard was coated in fresh cut grass, it looked very well taken care of.