Chapter Three

Madeline’s POV

Icy blue eyes stare into my soul beckoning me to come closer and disappear into its mist. Rich red lips opened up in shock to examine its own reflection. I wince noticing obvious scars on my forehead, most just above my left eyebrow. Twinkling golden stars dangle from my ears, like the precious glisten of a bright night sky.

Observing yourself shouldn’t be this revolutionary, and yet it is! Like meeting a person you never knew existed, that you never knew you could meet, being something you can control, manipulate, and become.

But, how can you become something you already are?

Existential dread poured in, and it felt as if the world around me started to shrink. The walls were closing in on me, and I was helpless to defend myself. It felt all so real, like a deja vu I’ve been through millions of times before, but am only experiencing now.

What had happened? How did I lose my memory in the first place? And why did the nurse keep mentioning, “the crash” ?!

Suddenly the world is shifting, and I feel disoriented in my own body.

Maybe I’m the one that’s shifting, not the world.

I reach up to my temples and press lightly hoping to ease the dizziness. I snatch hold of my slippery consciousness with all the strength I can. My mind is a dark place, no way would I let myself get trapped in there once more.

But still, something inside me wants to run, far far away from wherever I currently was. Away from the nurse’s stern expression and my Mother’s worried gaze.

Everything became quiet. We sit in silence as the nurse inspects me and runs checks to make sure I was breathing correctly and that my head is healing properly. Apparently, I have a minor concussion and a few stitches due to the so-called, “accident.”

Other than that, I should be somewhat back to normal in a couple of weeks. Well, almost. I barely know who I am, waking up in a new life with no recollection of the moments before or what exactly caused this.

The nurse finally informed my Mother and me that I had been driving out in the middle of the night in the rain. How peculiar.

Why would I do something as risky as that? Almost as if I was fleeing from something... a person? A situation? A feeling?

Luckily, no one (besides me) got injured, seeing as I swerved off the street and crashed into a sign but not another car. As it goes, some people who witnessed the crash took me to the hospital, which proceeded to call my emergency numbers.

One of which was my Mother and-

“Miss. Beckett, if you are feeling better there is someone here to see you.”

Wait what? Who could it be?

A well-built young man stumbles through the door, fiddling with his turtleneck and avoiding my stare.

He’s kinda cute.

What no- who am I kidding? I still don't know who this guy is!

My brain mentally whacks me for thinking the impossible. The mysterious man looks up at me with cloudy green eyes, seemingly red from crying, which hide beneath brown wisps, his carefully styled bangs.

I gap and frown, my brain tugging at me to remember this man, but to no avail. I wonder what he was thinking… or who he even is.

Perhaps… a biological brother? No, he doesn’t look like me… My… cousin? Do I have a cousin? Maybe a family friend or…

“I’m sorry to ask but- who are you?” I ask cautiously, afraid to say something that would bring him to tears, even more if he wasn't already crying.

I winced when he tensed up, frowning, suddenly fascinated by the hospital floors below us.

Hmmm, not one to talk huh?

If he really meant this much to me and I completely forgot him, this must sting.

“Well, he’s your boyfriend dear!”

My Mother said in a mock-cheery voice, obviously shaken up and rattled that her daughter couldn’t even remember her boyfriend, let alone herself.

We both froze at the news.

I have a boyfriend?

….Someone actually likes me?....

…Someone like him...likes me?...

“Oh.”

As sorrowful as it sounds, I didn’t think it was possible. I actually enjoy the idea, it feels like teenage love all over again. That means someone cares for me in this world by choice, someone who can make me remember who I am.

Maybe things will get better!

He clears his throat and mumbles, “My name is Andrew. Andrew Davis.” I’m startled by the deep, yet soft, voice that emerges from his lips. I wonder if his lips taste as sweet as his voice...

GAH BRAIN NOT THE TIME-

I took a moment to reassess the situation and thoughts flowing in and out of my mind with no filter. And as the night dragged on, the nurse excused my boyfriend but allowed my Mother to stay the night with me.

I found this endearing, how she wanted to keep her daughter company, despite my loss of memory. She promised to tell me all about my… previous life another day. But for now, she rested her head in her hands, sitting in the hospital chair beside me, shaking slightly.

I want to help her, but I feel myself slipping already.

Wait, I can’t go back into the darkness. Not now, not never, not… yet.

But the overwhelming pain took over as did the medication, my brain begging to sleep, and my heart willing me to stay awake. I kept thinking about the mysterious stranger, or in other words, my boyfriend.

How did we meet? How did we fall in love? Who confessed first? When was our first kiss?

---

Andrew’s POV

I thought my heart was broken. I thought it got shattered or ripped to bits. Tossed into flames or thrown 60 feet off a building. Disintegrated in acid or stabbed to bleed. Bled until it couldn’t bleed any longer. I was wrong. Again.

There she lay on the hospital bed, curious eyes peering up at me, almost like an injured deer. I took a step forward, afraid that even the tiniest movement would shatter her, as it did me.

Her beautiful jet-black hair cascaded over her stitches and scars. Her long, silky highlights curled behind her ear which- oh. That’s when I noticed she was still wearing them. She never took them off. Even though I broke up with her?

“I’m sorry to ask but- who are you?”

I tensed up.

Oh no.

What should I say?

I sputtered and tried to explain, but the words wouldn’t come out.

I can’t tell her in front of everyone, not to mention her overprotective Mother! She would kill me for breaking up with her daughter over text! And then the nurses and doctors would tell me to leave since I’m not a “loved one” anymore. Then what if it revives her memories? She could start screaming at me which might make her head hurt more, and the stitches might even rip out. What if she decides to fight me, stands up, and I worsen the situation I had already caused?!

“Well, he’s your boyfriend dear!”

No. I’m not. I really am not. Well, not anymore. I’m the reason that you can’t remember and the cause of all your pain. We broke up. Or rather, I broke up with you. I-

Her eyes lit up in the most adorable shade, a grin threatening to appear on her velvet red lips despite her predicament. A light blush rose to her cheeks as she subconsciously whispered, “Oh.”

How can she be so beautiful in a hospital gown and with stitches evident on her forehead?

She looked at me with a hopeful glance, and I just couldn’t bring myself to say it. I can’t break her heart a second time. I can’t bear to see her reaction in real life, especially since she doesn’t remember me. Especially since I’m the reason she doesn’t remember me.

I manage to choke out a timid sentence, “My name is Andrew. Andrew Davis.”

I can’t break up with her again if she doesn’t know who she’s breaking up with. I need to fix this relationship… but I can’t let her know what was wrong in the first place.

I just… can’t.