Rest In Peace (sequel to After They Died)

30- Ellie

Physiotherapy is not what I thought it was. I had no clue whatsoever but judging by the excitement of the doctors, I thought it would be fun; it's painful.

After a breakfast I refused to eat they wheel me in a wheelchair to a therapy room. A kind lady in a white uniform smiles at me as I'm pushed into her room.

"Hello Ellie, how are you?"
"Fine."
"Should we get started then?"
Oblivious to the tedious torture I was to endure, I nodded obediently.

She tells me to stand up! I haven't stood in weeks. Shakily, I push with my arms up out of the comfort of the wheelchair and I stand, gripping onto the metal handles of the chair. My legs shudder, not used to carrying my weight, even though I am very light, it's too much for them. My legs buckle and give way, and I drop down gracefully to the floor.

I expected it to end then, for them to apologise profusely and give me pain relief in the warmth of my bed, but no, I am forced to continue and without any incentive to do so. All I wanted was to go back to sleep.

Still, I shakily clutched onto two parallel rails, holding myself up almost independently. I move one weak foot in front of the other, shifting my weight as I do so. I frown in concentration, desperate to get it right. Mum will be proud when she visits me, I glow, or if she visits me.

When I get back to my room, a weeping girl who seems really tall, sits in the chair next to my bed. "Ellie, are you ok, I'm so sorry about everything, Rachel didn't deserve that I—" she stops, momentarily confused by my blank stare. "Who are you?"
"Oh yeah, they said you forgot I'm so sorry, how could I be so careless? Sorry, it's me Jeanette, you're old bestie."
"Oh, hi Jeanette." I taste the name gingerly on my tongue, trying in vain to recognise the simple word but of course I don't. It's tantalising how I don't remember who is good and who is bad: who I love and who I hate. The way she said she's sorry and that she's an old friend could mean we fell out. Ugh it's so tedious having to piece together scraps of information to slot into place, will it ever get easier?

"We were really good friends but I- I messed it all up, you probably e we not understand if I try to explain..."
"No. I'm fed up of being kept in the dark, all I want is to know things, to remember."
"I know, I understand it must be awful."
But you don't. People tell me that they get it, which is infuriating. Have you lost all of your memory forever? Did you have one person you could rely on betray you? No. So you don't understand. But I don't do that, I just wait for her to explain.

"You hated, no despised a girl in our year, Rachel, which you had a valid reason for: she stole your boyfriend. You were mad, we bullied her, no I bullied her, turning the whole school against her. I beat her up, I sent her threatening notes, I wanted her to pay for hurting you. Then, she was kidnapped or something, I don't really know, and she managed to escape. But instead of running to freedom, she committed suicide because she saw me and Freddie- her boyfriend who she stole from you- kissing. I didn't see her, honest but it all made sense after. You were traumatised, distraught. I'm so sorry, it's my fault your sister died."

I wait to let the words sink in.

I had a boyfriend.

He was stolen by my twin.

Jeanette bullied her, I joined in.

Jeanette took it too far.

Rachel was kidnapped.

Rachel killed herself.

"She killed herself?"
"Yeah, I'm so sorry I—"
"It wasn't your fault. That alone didn't kill her, it played a part but..."
"You don't know how much that means to me hearing you say that." Jeanette bursts into a grin.
"I think I might. Now, I skipped breakfast and I'm starving, you couldn't fetch me some food from the cafe could you?"
"Sure, I was told to encourage you to eat, apparently you were refusing you naughty child." She mock tells me off, before walking away laughing helplessly. I smile to myself, I had a best friend and a boyfriend even if it didn't last long. I wonder who Freddie is, I hope he's nicer than the boy who saved me...

Jeanette comes back, loaded with junk food. "Jeanette...what was Freddie like?"
"He has golden hair and crystal eyes, kinda fit, always in trainers. Wait, I thought he'd visited you, he texted me telling me how you were..."
"No, only the boy who saved me, but turned out to my kidnapper visited me."
"Oh shit. That's Freddie, he told me you called him your hero. What do you mean he was your kidnapper?"
"What?" I gulp, my hand frozen mid-air with a bar of galaxy chocolate.
"You didn't know that was him?"
"APPARENTLY I'M TOLD NOTHING NOW! LEAVE ME ALONE!" I scream, sobbing hysterically.
"Ellie, it's ok. Explain, I can talk to him, yeah? We have school together on Monday. It'll be ok and if it's not I'll punch him for you, yeah?"

I tell her all that I know, not that it's very much at all, just from when I woke up on the floor in that dark, dark room until now, in the hospital. I don't hold back anything, I don't stop myself from swearing, I don't care anymore.
"Shit, that's just shit. Oh, El come here." She envelopes me in a warm hug, and I feel protected by her capable arms, warm in her embrace: I can trust this girl. Jeanette smells nice: I can smell strawberry shampoo and a hint of vanilla in her perfume, mmm...I could stay like this forever. Eventually we untangle from each other and she assures me that yes, she will punch Freddie on my behalf. Freddie, the name suits him I think to myself.

We spend a couple of hours watching films and munching on chocolate. One benefit of memory loss is that I can't remember the plot to any film we watch, so I will always be pleasantly surprised. I lean back into Jeanette, my best friend- my only friend, and watch the film, smiling to myself peacefully. Maybe life isn't all so bad.