Gone (Scomiche)

Imaginary

I didn't know how I felt about being alive. I guess I was glad, I mean, my parents were probably pretty happy. According to Kirstie, I should be drowning in tears over somebody named Scott. But I wasn't. Yet.

The next day the doctor came in. He talked to me for a long time about a bunch of medical stuff. I couldn't quite understand what he was saying. I asked him how I could remember Kirstie, but I couldn't remember Scott. He explained that brains heal differently and I'd soon remember him, it would just take time and good care.

I sighed. I wanted to remember Scott. He sounded like a nice guy.

Kirstie came again and we just talked. Eventually she had to leave and she gave me the biggest smile as she stood to leave.

"The accident hasn't changed you," she remarked.

The day after that, I became angry I couldn't remember Scott. I convinced myself that he wasn't real. They were lying to me. There was nobody named Scott. I had been driving and a car hit me, that's it. I actually believed that. Or he was some stranger and I didn't know him. I didn't know him, so who cared if he died... right?

Late into the afternoon, Kirstie came in with tears in her eyes, not quite crying.

"What's wrong?" I asked.

"The other driver died. The one in the coma."

I nodded. "That's too bad."

"Yeah," she agreed quietly.

I was slowly but surely regaining strength. My ankle was starting to feel better, it was hard to do things with a broken arm, but I was managing, and my ribs were constantly sore. My parents still hadn't come to visit me. Neither had Avi or Kevin. I was confused, but I didn't question it. I had become a little crabby, being bedridden and all, but Kirstie still came every day to talk. I appreciated it. And finally after five days of being in the hospital, Avi and Kevin dropped by.

"Hey!" Avi exclaimed as soon as he entered the room. Kevin followed and sat down right next to me.

"How's it going?" Kevin asked.

"Fine, I guess." I smiled. I missed Avi and Kevin.

"Sorry we didn't come sooner, Mitch." Avi's bass voice rang in my ears.

"Yeah," Kevin agreed. "We were too distraught to go anywhere."

My eyes widened. "Why?" And then I realized. "Oh, right." I made air quotes with my fingers. "Scott."

Avi tilted his head a little. "Why the air quotes, buddy?"

"Do you remember him?" Kevin queried, his eyes filled with hope.

"No. I put air quotes because I don't think he's real. Or just some stranger. Either way."

Kevin had the most hurt and painful look on his face. Avi sat there, completely appalled.

"You don't think he's real?" Avi asked.

And that was the first time I saw Avi and Kevin cry. They left sooner than they had probably intended. But I heard them arguing with the doctor.

"Just let us show him a video! It could bring his memory back!" Avi was insisting.

"No. No electronics while he has a concussion," the doctor commanded firmly.

"He thinks Scott is imaginary!" Kevin bellowed.

"He won't in a few days!" The doctor argued back.

"But the funeral is in less than a few days! He has to go to that!" Avi was on the verge of yelling.

The doctor mumbled something I couldn't make out.

Funeral? What funeral? For "Scott"?

I heard stomping and then Avi and Kevin were gone. No doubt they went to tell Kirstie. Great.

Just as I had predicted, Kirstie came the next day and had a hurt look on her face.

"So I hear you think Scott isn't real."

I shrugged and nodded, taking a bite of my Jello. She sighed and reached into her purse. She held a photo of a tall, blond haired man, pointing his thumbs up.

"Does this help?" She asked, handing me the picture.

I examined it. "No."

Her body practically deflated as she took back the picture and slipped it into her purse.

"Mitch... you two were dating. For a long time."

I looked at her like she was crazy. "What?"

"And we were in Pentatonix together. You two have been friends... I mean... had been friends since sixth grade."

"What?" My voice was squeaky.

I finally got it. If Kirstie was telling me the truth, I was in love with this man. This man who I had just seen on shiny paper. But I didn't believe her. I would've remembered him if I loved him.

"No..." I disagreed.

"Mitch, we want you to write a eulogy and read it at the funeral."

"No."

"What?"

"I said no."

"Why not?!"

"I don't know this 'Scott' dude. How am I supposed to talk about him if I have no idea who he is?"

"But Mitch..." she whispered. "You love him."

"No. I dont. Because I have no idea who he is. For all I know, he was my worst enemy. I won't do it."

"Mitch! Please!" Kirstie begged.

"No!" I screamed. "I don't want to go to his stupid funeral!"

She broke into tears and left without a word.

God, I'm such an idiot. I couldn't even go to my own boyfriend's funeral.