Generation Infinosil

Chapter Twenty Five

Chapter Twenty Five - Shane

2050

All freshened up and in clean clothes, I quietly opened the door and walked towards my room; intending on creeping up on Kaitlyn and making her jump, and hoping it would make her laugh. But when I got to my bedroom door, I paused in my tracks. Stood by my desk, and looking through my sketchbook, was Kaitlyn.

Inside that book were a handful of sketches- the majority of the recent ones being based on her.

I didn't know what to do. Was I supposed to wait until she put it back and then walk in, pretending I didn't catch her snooping? Was I meant to confront her and ask her what she was doing?

I couldn't just wait until she put it down, she'd wonder why I was taking so long. "I can just walk in, and make out that it's not a big deal that she's looking through my personal belongings." I thought to myself until I realised that lying wouldn't get me anywhere. Honesty is always the best policy after all.

Being unsure what to say, I simply coughed.

She spun around so suddenly and with such a devastating look of guilt on her face that my anger at her intrusion softened massively. I could have sworn that I even spotted a tear beginning to glisten in her sad eyes.

"I... I'm so sorry. I don't know why I looked without asking." Kaitlyn apologised.

She turned away from me and put the book back in its place, her head hanging low in shame. I walked over to her, cautious that I might upset her further but desperate to show her that she's forgiven. I gently placed my hand on her shoulder and swiveled her around until she was facing me, but she wouldn't look me in the eye.

"Kaitlyn, look at me, it's okay." I said, but she didn't seem to believe me. "We all make mistakes." I continued but any attempt to make her feel better was futile.

"I have to go." She muttered as she tried to walk past me.

"Kaitlyn, no wait, please?" I grabbed her hand and felt goosebumps traveling up my arm; reminding me of how it felt to have her hand in mine during my dreams. Those dreams felt so real. "Please Kaitlyn, stay."

She slowed down and turned to look at me for the first time since I caught her handling my sketchbook. "I'm so sorry," she sighed, "I just wanted something familiar to look at whilst I was waiting for you. You always have it with you at school."

"Why did you need something familiar to look at?" I asked with genuine bewilderment, after sitting on the end of my bed and gesturing for her to join me.

"I don't like being in new places." Explained Kaitlyn shyly.

"Why not?" I wondered.

"I... I just don't."

"That's okay, I don't either." I admitted.

"Really? How come?" She questioned.

I asked myself if I should tell her, if I should tell her about my past, about waking up in a hospital with no memory of how I got there. I asked myself if she'd think I was abnormal, if she'd treat me differently, if she'd avoid me.

But after holding it all in for far too long, it flooded out of me like an overflowing river, "It reminds me of a certain time in my life, a time that I try to forget about, but I can't."

How ironic that the memories I so desperately wanted to recall refused to reveal themselves, whilst the memories I've tried so hard to rid myself of will not disappear, no matter how much I want them to.

Kaitlyn was looking at me with a look of understanding that could only come from someone who had experienced a similar thing; someone who has a time in their life that they'd rather pretend didn't exist. Except she had a whole lifetime full of good memories to replace the bad ones with, and I was strictly limited to a meager two years.

I wondered what it would feel like to meet someone with as few memories as me. I wondered if it would be nice to know I wasn't alone, to know there was someone out there who truly understood what I've been going through, or if it would be sad to know that they may have suffered as much as I have.

"I know what you mean," Kaitlyn said, knocking me out of my trance.

"I don't think you do," I stated, looking into her eyes and trying to figure out what she was thinking. At that moment, sat beside her and looking into those beautiful eyes, I wanted to tell her everything. How I feel like I belong by her side, how I can't stop thinking about her, how being with her is the closest I've been to being happy for as long as I remember, even though that evidently isn't that long.

A sadness filled Kaitlyn's eyes as she peered over to my desk where the sketchbook was placed. I put my thumb under her chin and gently turned her face towards me.

"The thing is Kaitlyn," I hesitated before continuing, but I forced myself to carry on, she needed to know how I felt; she needed to know that she's the reason I've actually been smiling and happy lately, properly smiling and properly happy. I reminded myself of a quote I once heard that said you shouldn't delay until tomorrow, anything that can be done today because no one knows what tomorrow might bring. I had to tell her.

"I've been thinking about you non-stop since the moment my eyes fell on you." I finally confessed. My heart rate peaked massively, what if it was too soon to say something like that? What if she didn't feel the same and it just made things awkward between us? I couldn't lose her. I couldn't lose this friendship. I dropped my hands to my lap and kept my eyes focused on them, terrified to see her reaction. "Okay, that sounded all creepy and stalkerish." I added.

That's when she said something that shocked me; something that sent a smile spreading across my face like ink spreading on damp paper. "Well, in that case, I'm about to sound like a stalker too, you haven't left my mind since then either." She was looking at me with that trademark small, shy smile of her's that I find so adorable.

"I feel like I must have met you before, before moving schools." I gazed into her eyes, hoping to miraculously recall a lost memory, one that revealed why I believed this so certainly.

"Yeah, it feels like I know you from somewhere," she responded, deep in thought, "but I can't quite figure out where." I inwardly sighed at her last comment- my hopes of her answering my questions having just been deflated.

"Are you okay?" She asked, obviously noticing my disappointment.

"Yeah," I replied glumly, "it's just that I... I really wanted to figure out if I've met you before."

"Me too, I've been thinking about it a lot lately actually. I was hoping you'd remember."

"Trust me, you don't want to rely on me to remember anything, not after my..." It almost slipped out, but I stopped so abruptly that she was bound to notice I was keeping something from her.

"After your what?" She asked cautiously, clearly recognising that it was a sore subject.

"Promise you won't think I'm a freak?"

"I already think you're a freak." She joked, nudging my arm and grinning.

This made me chuckle but my smile soon faded when I realised that this was the moment I had been fearing for so long; I had to tell her about the accident. Was she going to think that I'm abnormal for not having any memories beyond the last two years? Was she going to come up with some ridiculous theory about me being resurrected? And that's not even a joke, that was actually, believe it or not, one of the reactions I got when people discovered my story.

"I... I umm... I had an accident two years ago."