✥Amnesia✥

Where Do I Begin...

 “Mom.” I call out in a sing song voice as I shut the door behind me, slipping my key out of the lock. I drop my bag onto the floor by our coat rack, laying the lanyard on top of it. My high tops squeak on the hardwood floor as I climb up. “Momma?” I call out as I round the corner, in pursuit of the blue eyed woman who should be home by now. “Hey, where are you?” I inquire out loud as I wander upstairs.

 “She went to the store.” I start and spin on my heel to see Cameron leaning on the door frame to his room. He glances up to me as he’s fiddling with the lens on his camera. He cuts it on, the red light beaming as he holds it up.

 “What are you doing?” I eye him suspiciously.

 “Seeing if I can get this thing to focus.” He speaks as he continues to tweak things from the other side. “Have you by any chance made any new sketches?” He asks.

“Ron.” I shake my head, waves bouncing. “I can’t keep submitting things for you.” Unfortunately, the college Ron has always had his eyes set on isn’t interested in students with one primary focus. He had photography, but nothing else. All 18 years of his life have been dedicated to capturing pictures. And I’ve spent all 17 years of mine being his subject.

 “Holls, I know.” He purses his lips as he shuts the camera off, the lens retreating and the light fading. “But I can’t very well go there and say I only have what I showed them. That’s going to look shady as hell and I need something to cover me for at least the first few months until I can get some lessons and learn to sketch.” He shrugs, teal eyes focused on me as I stand with my arms crossed over my chest. I breathe out a huff of air and shake my head, strolling into my room. I pull open the nightstand drawer in my room, lifting up the false wood bottom and drawing the book out. I thumb through the pages and tear out the ones I’ve been saving for him. “You’re the best Hollie.” He embraces me in a tight hug.

 “Yes I am.” I teasingly remark as he lets go, the plain paper in hand.

 “I’ll pay you back someday, I promise.” He beams before jogging out the door.

 “Hey!” He’s rushing down the steps with his camera bag in hand. “Ron, hey!” I follow after him, until he reaches the door. “Where are you going?” I shout.

 “Film club.” He shouts back before the door closes behind him.

 “Goodbye to you too Ron. Thank you for taking the time out of your busy schedule to say goodbye to your little sister. You’re so considerate.” I sarcastically speak out loud as I trace back up the steps, plopping onto my bed and turning the TV on.

 I don’t pay any attention to the movie as I curl up on the bed. I restlessly toss and turn for a good 40 minutes before catching a glimpse of sleep.

 My lungs heave as I cough once, now twice, and three times.

Adrenaline surges through my body as I sit up on the bed, smoke. Smoke is stenching through the house and my room is a gray cloud. I clamber out of bed on all fours, crawling low as I wander upstairs.

 “Guys!” I bang on the nearest wall. “The house.” I cough at the increase of smoke in my lungs. I need to warn them. “The house is on fire.” I croak out. The smoke is filtering into my eyes and causing them to clamp closed as they water. It burns.

 Silence.

 I stand and stumble into Ron’s room.

 He’s gone.

 “Mom? Dad?” I bang on their bedroom door. I lean on it for support for a moment as a coughing fit overtakes me. My lungs are heaving by the time I’m in the room. The headache is growing sharper and sharper with each passing second, but I have no perception of time right now. “MOM!” The shout dries out my throat as I find her collapsed in the bathroom. I stumble forwards and decide to crawl over after I fall over because of something on the floor. “Mom!” I venture over to the white tiles, fanning the smoke from before my eyes as I notice them.

 White and navy capsules.

 They’re scattered…everywhere.

 My chest constricts as I notice her sleep prescription bottle. It was full today. I’m not even sure if it’s the smoke or the scene causing the constriction in my lungs. Something echoes in the back of my mind, but I can’t process it.

 I need to leave.

 You can’t leave her here.

She’s as good as dead.

But so are we if we try to help her out of here.

You’ll probably die either way.

 “Stop, stop, stop.” I cover my ears with my hands as if covering the outside, will quiet the noise on the inside. The room keeps spinning, twirling while I’m stuck here like a merry-go-round from hell. My throat strangles closed in a familiar feeling. I move out to the bedroom when my lunch is purged from my body. I push the auburn strands away from my damp face as I lean against the wall.

 Get out, I need to get out.

 I can’t get out.

 HOW THE HELL DO I GET OUT?

  “Sorry, mom, I’m so sorry.” I weep as I try to support myself on shaking legs. “I-“ The coughs take over again and I’m holding on to the banister.

 “HOLLIE, COME ON.” I can’t compute. Two hands have a strong hold under my arms as I have to clamp my eyes shut again from the burning.