Do You Remember?

Chapter Four

Days passed by, soon followed by Weeks, turning into months. Ben still could not remember why he was in the hospital. He was soon released and  returned home with his family. He had hoped the change of scenery would help him remember the years after high school graduation. However the memories seemed to be hiding from him, taunting him by giving him the smallest pieces back.

His mother would bring picture frames, picture albums, anything that he believed would help her son remember anything. There where pictures with him in fatigues and in his alphas. Pictures from when he graduated Boot Camp, pictures of Ben in Afghanistan, and pictures of the day he returned home. Everything from his last days of high school to him in the hospital.

"Mom I don't remember." Ben said pushing yet another stack of picture frames and scrapbooks away from him. The pictures were starting to get to him. The Ben in the pictures seemed happy, carefree, on top of the world. Ben couldn't recognize himself.

"Look honey, this is you! You are the one wearing this uniform, you are the one smiling that wonderful smile of yours. You're grinning here! Don't you remember this?" Ben's mom begged him, pleaded for him to remember something, anything.

"No mom. I already told you, I can't remember anything," he cried out in frustration, "Why can't you go back to obsessing over Jack's new business deal or how much you love Shawn's new girlfriend. Hell I'd even like to hear you talk abounds t how Josie is getting so big! Why can't everyone go back to ignoring me like they used to?"

"It's fine! We'll get there!" His mother said as she left the room, holding back tears of frustration. She wanted her son back, the Ben who was in the pictures. The Ben who didn't have a care in the world. And in that particular moment? Ben envied his past self.

He pushed the stacks of pictures and scrapbooks as far from himself as he could. The beaming smiles of the old Ben staring up at him. God how Ben hated the sight of his own smile at this point.

Ben turned to face the tv, pointedly refusing to acknowledge the pictures that were teetering on the edge of the couch. He tried as hard as he could to focus on the voice of the newscaster, trying his best to clear his mind the best he could.

It was no use. Ben's mind was all over the place. He couldn't stop his mind from wondering and thinking about all the differences between the him he was now and the him everyone was expecting him to be. Ben knew he wasn't the same Ben in the photographs and more than anything that hurt. His family didn't just want him to remember, they wanted the old Ben back.

In frustration, Ben clicked the tv off. The voices of Fox News suddenly cutting off and leaving the normally loud boisterous house unusually silent. Which did nothing to soothe Ben's mind.

He groaned and stood up, the pain he'd been experiencing since his surgery was almost gone now. The only side effects he was feeling were the occasional headache, nothing Ben couldn't manage. The army was getting back into his life now, asking him for medical release and giving him information about how he can finish his enlistment.

Truth be told, the army was far from Ben's concern at the moment. He was much more focused on finding himself again.

Ben grabbed the mug of coffee he had been drinking, the bittersweet drink now cold. He dumped the rest of the light brown mixture into the sink and rinsed out the mug, carefully drying it and placing back beside the coffee maker.

He leaned against the marble island, looking out the window just above the sink. Ben had a good view of the front yard from here. He could see their neighbors kids playing a game of frisbee, Mr. Wallaby was washing his new motorcycle, and a few cars were passing down the small neighborhood street.

The calmness of the neighborhood made Ben uneasy. There was something about the fact that nothing was happening that made Ben tense.

Shaking his head, Ben played it off on having been in Afghanistan before the accident. Maybe it was just his instincts.

With a sigh, Ben made his way to the front porch just as a red pickup truck parked in front of their house. Ben squinted, looking for the driver. He'd never seen this truck before.

Two people climbed out of the truck, a tall guy who seemed about Bens age climbed out of the passenger side door. He was tan and had a haircut similar to Bens. A huge loopy grin engulfed his face as he turned towards Ben.

"Novak!" He shouted, "Long time no see!"

A short girl rounded the truck from behind and playfully slapped him on the shoulder. She had bright red hair that contrasted her pale white skin, and Ben couldn't help but feel as if he'd seen her before.

Both guests seemed familiar to Ben. However he couldn't place them, were they friends of his? 

Ben approached the two cautiously from the front porch. "Erm- hello?"

The short redhead's blue eyes took in Ben and she shook her head, "Tony I said I could do this but I was wrong," she muttered, shaking her head.

Tony wrapped his arm around her small shoulders and gave her a small squeeze, "You have to do this," he whispered in her ear, "He's in there somewhere and we have to find him."

She nodded and looked up to Ben, "Hi," she said, a small amount of confidence oozing into her words, "I'm Claire Morison and this is Tony Sanchez. We were a part of your squad back in Afghanistan."

Tony smiled down at Claire before speaking up as well, "We were hoping we could, I don't know, talk?"

Ben nodded, a smile spreading onto his lips. Finally he would get some answers.