Amnesia

Prologue

I watch as they lower the caskets beneath the freshly overturned soil, leaving the only people I had left six feet under my feet. Its been one week since the crash that totaled our
family car, killed both of my parents, and left me orphaned and alone. I stand alone in the vacant cemetery, the only one who showed up at the funeral; the only one to remember my parents. I look down at the bouquet of callilillies in my hands. My mothers favorite flower. This all doesn't seem real. It feels like I'm going to walk through our front door and see my mother cooking dinner and my father reading the paper in his armchair.

They begin dumping the dirt back into the neighboring holes in the ground. How is this really happening? A hand appears on my shoulder and I look up, half expecting to see my parents faces smiling down at me, but instead I see the sad smile and the friendly eyes of our pastor. The only one besides me who showed up. I've told him time after time that he didnt have to come. Hes old and frail and could easily fall and break a hip on the uneven graveyard, but he insisted. "I married your parents, I'll send them home too"he said.

"They're home now, Kelsea. They're in a better place." He says. I only nod, not trusting my voice to work right this moment. Ive done a good job keeping the tears at bay, but only because I've convinced myself this isn't real. He leads me up to the mounds of dirt and I place the bouquet in between the two headstones. We head back to the only car in the lot, and the Pastor brings me home, promising to pick me up in the morning to take me to my newfound foster home.

Nothing seems right as I open our front door and enter our now vacant home. The last time this door was opened, we were all heading out to go to our favorite restaurant for Mother's Day. It's eerie now walking in alone. The lights are all out and the humidity hangs in the air, sticking to my skin from the air conditioning being off for a week. The floorboards creak in places I never noticed and this house doesn't smell like it used to. Despite the humidity, it seems cold and empty, and it is. The keys make the familiar clink as I drop them into the dish by the door. I turn on lights as I go, trying to trick myself into thinking Im not here alone. I push my creaky door open and stare at the door across the hall where my parents sleep. Used to sleep. I decide against opening their door and flick on my lights, grabbing my PJs and a towel before hopping in the shower, trying to wash away my problems. By the time I drag myself out of the shower, the water has long since turned cold and I'm shivering. I crawl into my bed, burying myself in the warmth, hoping to wake up from this awful dream.

When the phone rings, I've been laying in bed, staring at nothing for what seems like a couple minutes but has really been hours. I drag myself out to the living room, picking up the phone despite the *unknown* caller ID.

"Hello?"

"Hello, this is Dr. Wyatt from the new medical center on Parkway. Do you happen to know a Pastor Scott Danvers?"

"Um, yes, is everything okay?" I ask, my voice clamming up.

"Im afraid not. He passed away this afternoon and you were listed with the others to notify. I'm very sorry for your loss." With that he hangs up the phone and I sit in stunned silence. First my parents, now Pastor Scott? They were all I had. I have no one left. I'm alone.
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