Forgotten

Two

"He's back in town. What am I supposed to do?" I whisper-shout into the receiver.

"Calm down, it's fine. He doesn't remember anything." Jenette, one of the only people who know about the accident tries to calm me down.

"No, it's not! He should remember what he did. He deserves it!" I rake a hand through my tousled brunette hair and pace across the floor.

"Just avoid him,"

"Have you seen how small this town is? And plus, I already gave him my name."

"What? Why would you do that?" She asks and honestly, I've been asking myself that same question over and over again since I've gotten home.

"I couldn't help it. Those eyes get me every time," I whine, eternally grateful for Jenette's patience.

"Okay, that's fine. That doesn't have to mean anything. Look, I've got to go. Good luck, and I'll call you later." the line goes dead and I flop onto my bed. I let out a loud groan before flopping my arm over my forehead, what've I done?

✰ ✰ ✰

I knock gently on the pale white door,
"Mom?" A soft groan is audible and I push the door open with my free hand.

The room is dark and my mom lays in bed with the covers drawn up high.

"I brought you dinner." I place the tray on the edge of her nightstand before going to open the blinds.

"Don't" she croaks out and I sigh before perching on the side of her bed. I give her a hand in sitting up before handing her the bowl of soup.

She hasn't left the bed in a year except to go to the bathroom occasionally. Six months ago, she started working on her hygiene. Three months ago, she started talking again. Two weeks ago, I got her permission to open the blinds. I guess today just isn't one of the good days.

She leaves the barely touched bowl of chicken noodle soup on the table before throwing the covers off of her frail body. She shuffles towards the bathroom and before long I hear the shower start and I take it as my cue to leave.

As I close the door behind me, a loud slam causes me to jump. I peek down the stairwell to see my father on the phone.

"I said, no! It would mean too many losses for our company! You're asking too much of me John!" He waves to me and gives me a small smile and I wave back.

"Yes, okay, good, great. That's what I like to hear. Of course, bring your boy Lincoln down for some dinner sometime. Alright, bye bye." He hangs up and I skip down the stairs,

"Hi dad," I say before leaning into his hug.

"How's your mom?" I shrug,

"The same." He nods before a shrill ring breaks the familiar conversation.

"I'm sorry sweetheart, I have to take this." I gesture for him to go ahead. I stand in the cold kitchen by myself, I've stood here alone a million times but this time feels more lonely.