Confused

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The man with the ashy blond hair is my father. The boys who could be his sons are my brothers. I guess I do not have a mother - they don't say anything about her.

...

Nothing they say rings a bell.

My name is Peeta Mellark.

I just turned eighteen in March.

It is May.

I am graduating from high school in a week.

I was in a car accident and it must have been bad if I am at the hospital.

They won't tell me.

The doctor says that I have memory loss and I may recover from it or it may be permanent or a mixture of both.

My father and brothers throw memories at me as if that will get me to remember. I don't.

There are certain memories that they seem upset when I don't show any recognition. Like apparently there was a time when I was really little and couldn't pronounce my R's and so I legitimately thought my name was Peeta not Peter and when kindergarten came around that's what I wrote on my papers.

Sometimes they'll just utter one word phrases or names and see if anything comes. Finnick. Gale. Katniss. They say that one a lot - Katniss. But none of it rings a bell.

"Why do you keep asking me about a Katniss?" I ask after they mention it about five times in an hour.

My brothers look back and forth at each other but don't speak. Under his breath, my father mutters,

"you don't remember," and even though I'm sure I wasn't supposed to hear I do and it makes me angry.

"Of course I don't remember!" I shout. Some machine that I'm connected to starts screaming.

"I can't remember anything! How do I know you are who you are? What if you're all lying to me? How am I supposed to know?"

The door opens and a nurse rushes in. "Peeta, you need to calm down."

"How am I supposed to calm down? I can't do this! I can't remember anything and nothing is going to help that ever!"

The doctor comes in and gives me something. I fall asleep.

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