Remind Me

Chapter Eleven

I don't know how to explain the feeling. My mind feels empty, not just due to the lack of memory. But also due to me trying to fend off any train of thought. Maybe if I don't think about anything, it will all go away.

I don't want to hear or see anyone else. It'll just remind me that I'm not who they remember me as. That they're trying to comfort me when they need to be comforted as well.

Clarin sits behind my door all day, continuously begging me to let her inside. I know she's crying.

I've been sitting here in the corner of my room, staring at the door for at least two hours. I haven't moved, spoken, done anything but breathe.

"Please," Clarin says again. "Please unlock the door."

I don't reply. I can't take it.

"Let her have some time, Clarin," a different voice says. Probably my mother. My mother that I don't know. My mother that knew who I used to be and is probably mourning over her loss.

"Brinley," Clarin says. "I just want you to know one thing."

When I don't reply, she continues.

"You're not anyone else just because of this. You're still you. And we all love you."

But she's wrong. I'm not the same person. I don't even know who I was, what my past is! How can I possibly be the same girl they all claim to have loved? I'm not.

"Please go, Clarin," I say quietly. "I can't take this."

"No, I can't leave you-"

"Go! Please, hearing your voice is wrecking me to pieces!" I yell in the direction of the door. Then I throw the closest thing to me at the door, which just so happens to be a picture on the dresser.

Clarin shakes the doorknob, trying to unlock it. I can't see her face, her tearstained face. The face that I used to know, but I don't recognize anymore. I'll never really know what she looked like as a child.

I can't let her inside. I drag my table to the door and leave it in front of it. She can't move that, even if she tries.

"Let me inside, Brinley, please," she says.

"I..." I push the table back more. "I can't do that. I need you to leave."

"No, I need to help you-"

"Nothing can help me, Clarin! Can't you see? There is nothing in this world that can save me from what I am. Not the doctors. Not my mother. Not you. Nobody. My life's no longer in my control and it sure as heck isn't in yours either. Help isn't available," I scream across the wall.

Then I break.

Every word is true.

I've been holding in these tears the entire day. I've convinced myself I don't need them. But letting them out feels great. A release, even if small, of the pain I've endured.

I sink to my knees, face in my hands. My arms shake, and I'm trying not to think about what's happening. But I can't help it.

I'm basically a stranger to myself. Memories make a person who they are, and I have none. Who I was as a child, my first years in elementary school, anything. I don't have a clue.

Not only does this suck for me, but it sucks for anyone else who knew who I was before the accident. They will never have their best friend, their sister, their daughter, their girlfriend back.

And them trying to comfort me is only making it worse because they're the ones that need it more than I do.

"Brinley, it's okay, it doesn't have to be a bad thing-"