The Bucket List for Eleanor {Under Construction}

Intro

Author's Note: First of all, thanks for reading (: This is new to me, really. I'd like to let you all know that this story is based off of something my mother was telling me. A friend of hers was caught in a car crash and lost her memory. Also, the character Elle is based off of my good friend, El (Ellieeeee! <3 From @LovelyElaine), so give her some thanks. Anyways, give me some feedback if you like this and if I should continue! Enjoy!

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Intro:

I sat in my hospital bed, my head drumming out a headache in sync with my heart. Everything was blurry, almost unreal. My vision would fade out, making the room become watery and blank. But then, my vision would snap into clear, everything amazingly vibrant, but also adding to my headache at the clearness. I fell back into the pillow, a loud sigh escaping my chapped lips. Just as I was about to attempt a getaway, a burly man walked into the room. He smiled sadly at me, and I became self-conciously aware that I must've looked like something the cat dragged in. 

    "Good morning, Eleanor." His tone was soft and gentle, but yet there was some bit of strength in it. I wanted him to keep talking, his voice made me feel secure and safe. 

    "Who's...Eleanor?" I asked him. His tanned forhead creased in distress and his eyes had beads of tears in the corners. I feel my own eyes start to water in confusion, desperately wanting to know what was going on. "Who?!" I shrieked, slamming my fist down on the bed. 

    "She's...well, honey, she's you," He responded, walking over to the side of my bed. I felt the hot tears pour over my cheeks, feeling utterly lost. How could I not have even remember myself? 

    "And you're my doctor?" I demanded, pushing a lock of hair behind my ear. I ran my fingers through my usually silky hair and found it matted and knotty. rMy fingers shone with grease, and I frowned. 

    The man looked me in the eyes, his brown orbs were piercing. I squirmed under his gaze, feeling very exposed in my hospital gown. 

   "I'm Murray Barnes. You're dad's best friend. Uncle Mur...don't you remember?" He asked sadly, running his hands through his frosted hair in anger. More tears boiled over, except they weren't sad that time. They were angry, and confused. 

    "Do you expect me to remember?! I can't even remember who I am!" I yelled at him, the loudness just making my headache more unbearable. I nodded calmly; he wasn't fazed by my temper.

    "You're right, Elle. I'm sorry," Murray had said. I rung his hands out, sitting quietly beside me. He reached into the brown paper bag he'd been clutching and pulled out a small, worn in, leather notebook. My name (Eleanor Crest) was ingraved in the smooth leather. He handed me the journal and I clutched it to my chest. My fingers traced the ingravement and I sighed. 

    "What's this?" I questioned him. I sat up straighter in the hospital bed, pulling my bush of blonde hair into a bun.

    "This is your journal. I um, kind of found it in your house," Murray explained. I raised an eyebrow and opened the cover. This is the personal journal of Eleanor Marie Crest. This remains P R I V A T E , so if you are not Elle, do not open this. Inside contains my life, and everything about me, read the inside paper. I had shut the book quickly and threw it to the end of the bed. 

    "I don't want it," I'd told Murray, shaking my head vigorously. 

    "Why not? It explains your life exactly!" He responded. 

    "Exactly. I don't want to just read about my life and then believe it. What if I made something up? I don't want to be living a lie!" I exclaimed. He nodded understandingly. But then, he reached out to the notebook again and flipped towards the back of it until he'd reached the last page.

    "Maybe you want to take a look at this?" I grabbed the journal from him and read. It was a bucket list. 

~

"So are you going to do your Bucket List?" Murray asked me while we were driving home. Well, to his home. I was going to be staying there from then on. 

    I looked up at him from my passenger seat. He was so understanding and kind; I was glad he would be my father figure then. 

    "I'm at least going to try," I responded, gazing out the window of his beat up Ford pickup truck. We drove the rest of the way home in silence, except for the quiet music of Darius Rucker playing. When he pulled up to the house, I was speechless. A cozy brick cottage stood before us, the beautiful Maine greenery making it stand out. Goregous pink blooms had crawled up the sides of the house, and a small brown picket fence kept the house gaurded. The thatched roof covered the cottage, and a warm glow was coming from the kitchen window. Murray honked three times, and who I assumed was Mrs. Barnes, came rushing out the door. She flung the dish towel she was holding over her shoulder and wrapped me into a warm hug. 

    "Welcome home, darling," she'd greeted me. We walked inside while Murray went to go buy some groceries. She sat me down at the kitchen table and placed a fresh batch of snickerdoodle cookies and warm milk in front of me. As I munched on the cookies, a swarm of questions entered my mind. 

    "Who and where are my parents?" I asked Mrs. Barnes. She gazed at me, her mouth curving into a small frown.

    "You really don't remember...do you?" She said breathily, placing a frail hand on my hands. I shook my head. 

    "Their names were Michael and Rose Crest. And well, they were in the same car crash as you, the one where you hurt your head," she pointed to my head, smiling weakly, "And...well...they died. But, Elle, honey, you know they're in a better place now." She'd wrapped me in another hug as soon as she saw my tears. 

    "Did I have any siblings?" I asked her between shaky breaths. She nodded, pulling me closer.

    "You had a brother. His name was Joshua, and he was in the same car crash. He was best friends with Chris. I'm so sorry honey, so sorry," Mrs. Barnes whispered into my hair. I held onto her for dear life, because she seemed as though she was my only lifeline, my life preserver. 

    "Who's Chris?" I pleaded, hoping it would bring some memory back. Just then, he'd walked into the kitchen.

    "Speak of the devil," Mrs. Barnes laughed, standing up and walking over towards Chris. He stood there, staring at me, while eating a cookie. I faught the urge to laugh while the cookie crumbs spilled over his shirt, mostly because the moment had seemed so absurd.

    "Introduce yourself," she ordered the boy. I sat there patiently, my arms crossed. 

    "Well, go on," I urged him. He glared at me and stuck out his hand.

    "She already knows me, Mom. She's known me since she was two!" He barked at his mother. Mrs. Barnes glared at him.

    "Christopher, she doesn't remember," She whispered loudly. 

    "Chris," He mumbled, pumping my hand up and down harshly. 

    "Why are you so mad, Chris? I've only been here three minutes and you're treating me like a newborn sibling," I blurted. He scoffed. 

    "Maybe that's because you are like one," He replied sarcastically. 

     "No need to be so rude," I told him. Mrs. Barnes shakes her head at us, sighing.

    "Christopher, be nice to Eleanor. She just came back from the hospital, she has no memory of her life, and her family is gone. And she's forced to live in a new house with completely random strangers to her, at that! She's in a tough situation right now, so you're to be nice to her, understood?" Mrs. Barnes chided. Chris scowled in response.

    "You don't seem like random strangers. Well, except for Mr. Grumpy over here," I piped up, pointing my thumb to Chris. Mrs. Barnes laughed for a few moments, and I joined in. It felt like the first happy moment I'd had since I came back from the hospital. Maybe things were starting to look up. 

A/N: Picture of the Barnes's house in the external link!