Remind Me

Chapter Ten

The drive to the doctor's office is long and silent. Nobody talks. Not me, not my mom, not Clarin. This is it. This is the day.

None of us know what is going to come, what this day will hold. To be honest, I don't want to think about it.

I can't help my mind from wandering to what happened last night between Owen and I. We got into a huge fight. We were yelling at each other. We were arguing. I was angry. He was mad. It was not the kind of night I'd like to remember.

We have to wait in the waiting room for about twenty minutes. Owen shows up ten minutes before we can enter. He sits next to me. He doesn't say a word about last night, about what information we're about to find out, about anything. He just stays beside me. For that, I am grateful.

At some point he takes my hand in his. It is more comforting than any words anyone could possibly give me.

And then the nurse calls my name. My heart beats quickly.

Owen doesn't let go of my hand as we walk and I don't want him to. I think my grip might be too hard. I don't really care right now. I'm trying to take deep breaths and calm myself. It isn't working.

We enter the same small hospital room I've gone in every time I've been here. Doctor Webb sits in his chair writing a few things down at the desk. He places down his pen when he hears us enter.

"Ah, Brinley, nice to see you again," he says, and he holds out a hand for me to shake.

I do, with my free one.

"We will be starting in a different room today," Webb explains.

"What do you mean a different room?" I ask too quickly. Any new information here will put me on edge.

"We need to take an MRI of your brain to track and log its activity. It's the only way to figure out if he trauma is easing itself away and if the blockade of your memories will ever fade away," he explains shortly.

"Okay," I say, voice small and tight.

Owen has to let go of my hand once we reach the new room. He can't go inside with me. I feel my hands shake like they always do when I'm nervous. Doctor Webb escorts me inside.

"Here," he says, standing in front of the large machine. "You can lay down here." I do, reluctantly. "Now remember, you've got to stay still. It'll only take a few minutes. You alright with that?"

I nod my head, even though I really am not. I'm terrified of the hospital. I'm terrified of doctors.

The machine starts buzzing around me. It stressed me out. I don't move, as much as I want to. What I really want to do is rip myself out of this contraption and run away.

I really do run away from every problem I have, don't I?

The bright lights around me make me feel like I'm going to come out of here blind. Wouldn't that be great? Clueless and blind. My life would be a complete crap salad. Maybe it already is. The blindness could just add some croutons on top.

What kind of similes am I seriously using in my head?

This anxiety is making me go all sorts of crazy.

I have to force away the will to move. I want to get out of this thing. I don't know how to control my claustrophobia. I feel it in my chest, tightness. I feel it in my entire body, aching to expand. To move.

I think of Owen. Maybe that will calm me down. His green eyes. His dark hair that naturally looks great without any effort. His calm demeanor around me. His kind smiles. His laugh, oh gosh. His laugh. The way he always-