Wiosna

Chapter 1 - Part 1: Inference

        I wake up to someone shaking me awake. It's my mom, Megan.

        "Lance... Lance...? Lance? Are you awake?" she asks, and as I sit up from my bed and rub my eyes, she goes to the light switch and turns my room's light on.

       "Yeah, I'm awake now... What time is it?" I ask her in return, as I glance around my room and see through my windows that it's fairly dark outside at this point.

        She checks her watch, "About 8:15 PM." she says, then looks to me. "Are you okay? What happened? I don't usually come home to see my son sleeping, let alone sprawled out randomly on his bed."

        "I just passed out after having a migraine. I think I'm fine now." I tell her, glancing at the book next to me. It's closed, thankfully. I don't really have a wish to pass out again.

        She sees the book as well and picks it up. She sees the page that made me faint, and she looks over to me. "Do you know who Alex Starr is?" she asks, which is quite insensitive of her, actually. Thankfully I didn't start getting a headache again. To be fair, though, I hadn't told her the reason I passed out was because I saw the name.  

        "No," I reply, "I don't recall knowing anyone by that name." It was the truth, and I still felt like keeping that whole migraine thing a secret from her, because if she knew that caused any sort of pain she'd back away from the topic, misunderstanding.

        "Wait," I said, "What's our last name?" I ask while thinking to myself how there was any possibility I didn't know it, and I wouldn't think I'd forget if I had been told before, knowing that since my amnesia, every bit of information regarding my pre-amnesia-filled existence has become very valuable.

        "Have I never mentioned it?" My mom inquires, setting the book on my night stand, looking very puzzled. I tell her that maybe I had just forgotten. I think I've always been a tad oblivious or out of the loop towards my surroundings. since while I was regaining knowledge before I left the hospital, the more I remembered, the more my parents could recognize my personality again. They've said my personality the same as before, but since I'm rediscovering things including who I am, I've been more quiet than usual. I let my mind wander a lot, elaborating on the nonsensical things that occur every day. Maybe I'm thinking too much, which is exhausting me physically.

        "Our last name is Nagai, Lance." my mom says after my bout of thinking. Lance Nagai. Megan Nagai. Mutou Nagai. I try to think of something that would reoccur to me, like a memory or realization that I had just forgotten, but nothing like that comes to mind.

        "Ah, okay," I tell my mom, after thinking for a bit. She seems a bit confused as a silence falls between us. Then I remembered, she asked if I knew who Alex Starr was. I look up at her expectantly, trying to read her expression, but all I see is almost a longing look in her eyes.

        "Who's Alex Starr?" I finally ask.

        "You don't remember anything at all?" she replies.

        "Nothing. I wouldn't have asked who she was if I knew already." I say, getting impatient seeing that there's obviously something she knows that I don't.

        She sighs, then starts talking. "I guess it was inevitable that I'd have to tell you at some point. Alex Starr was the closest person to you before your coma," my mom tells me, looking a bit stiff in telling me this, knowing that she shouldn't have kept it from me for so long. "She's 16 years old, she has long blonde hair, and is just maybe a centimeter shorter than you are now. You two had been friends since you were 14, and you were dating for a few months before your coma."

        I try to take this all in, wondering how it's possible this could all escape me due to amnesia. My mind is swirling with thoughts and questions, but one thing in particular struck me as odd.

        "Where is she currently?" I ask, despite my fear of the answer, my mouth dry. Nothing about this has recurred to me thus far, which makes me feel guilty for my own ignorance, not knowing I had been so reliant on someone in the past.

        "About two weeks before you had a panic attack, she had been in a car accident with her father. Her father was killed instantly. Doctors said she suffered minor brain damage, she was in the hospital until you were halfway through your coma," my mom explained to me with a stern face. Some of it started to make sense. My doctor said I had a panic attack due to stress. This must be that stress, the fear of losing the person closest to me.

        "Why'd you keep it from me for so long?" I asked, already knowing the answer.

        "Your father and I were afraid of how the knowledge would impact you due to your amnesia," said my mom. "Your doctor said you would have certain triggers that would cause migraines, and this was the main thing we expected to trigger those migraines. We had secluded Alex from you for the exact same reason, no matter how badly she wanted to see you."

        Another thing hit me—how is Alex doing currently?

        "You said she had minor brain damage," I said, then added "what did that entail?"

        My mom looked at me again, a concerned look on her face. Triggers must still be a concern for her, but they don't feel like a concern for me, regardless of me passing out from reading the name.

        After a while, my mom spoke again, a hint of shakiness in her voice, but I couldn't tell if she would start crying or not. "This might be hard for you, and I don't know much about amnesia and if there's any possibility of you remembering something like this. During your coma, you blocked out a lot of your memories and that's partially what caused you to have amnesia. It varies what will affect you and what won't." she paused for a moment, waiting for a response. I couldn't speak. She continued.

        "To the doctors, Alex's brain damage seemed minor while she was unconscious," she swallowed, taking a few breaths before continuing, "She woke up and we were all relieved—we hadn't known how long she'd be unconscious, but it turned out to be only for two days. As days went on, she seemed very distant from everyone and everything. She remembered the car accident and what happened with her father—it was heartbreaking for her. She was sleeping more than usual, and at first we thought she had depression. Her mother was in shambles. She didn't know what she could do to help."

        I listen intently to what my mom is saying, for this the most important thing to me right now.

        "We noticed something strange the first few days of her reawakening, though. At random times she fell asleep, and we thought there were some side effects to both her brain damage and sadness. The doctors later diagnosed her with narcolepsy. The brain damage was the cause of her narcolepsy, and that she'd have it for the rest of her life."

        My heart was beating faster than it was when this conversation started. I wanted—I needed time to think about this.

        "This is all very overwhelming," I said, my voice cold.

        "Are you alright?" my mom asked, looking exhausted.

        "I don't know yet," I replied, "this is all very sudden. I'm not angry with you, though. You only were doing what you thought was best for me by keeping this from me until this point. And it appears it hadn't triggered anything during this conversation. No migraines, just an empty feeling the more I take it in, as any other person would."

        We sat in silence for 5-10 minutes without saying anything. I had questions at first, but now my thoughts are just a blur as I think about this more. I can't bring myself to ask anything, and I find it hard to think of things I'd want to ask. 

        "Your father's got dinner cooking, are you hungry at all? I know now probably isn't a good time to ask for you to eat," my mom says after a while. I think about eating, but I don't feel the slightest bit hungry. I decline, telling her I need some time to think about it and go to sleep.

        She leaves my room, saying "I love you" before turning off my light and closing the door. I glance at my alarm clock—9:30 PM. I take off my glasses and fall face first into my pillow.