Tiny Crown

Chapter 9

Emilia found herself staring up at the blank white ceiling yet again. The food was nice and she didn’t feel guilty or wrong about calling that food nice since Evan wasn’t the one who had cooked it.

Remembering what Evan had said about moving in with her aunt, Emilia closed her eyes and tried to imagine her aunt. Hopefully, imagining her aunt might help her remember the missing three months. As she lay there in borrowed pajamas, in a bed that was not her own, Emilia realised something.

She would have only moved in with her aunt if her mother was dead or ill enough to warrant her staying with her aunt.

Desperate for her mother to not be dead, Emilia clung to the hope that her mother was just a little more ill than usual and that she would get better soon.

And yet, there were no memories.

It was irritating, trying to remember something that wasn’t there. Something that was always blank, always nothingness. It was like trying to hold onto air and it felt impossible.

Feeling tears well up in her eyes yet again, Emilia didn’t try to hide them. There was no reason to hide them, no one could see her cry except for herself.

She found herself in the bathroom, leaning against the sink with toilet paper in her hands, wiping away the tears when they were too much.

She just wanted to remember something.

Anything.

There were two knocks on her door. Hoping he’d leave or think she was asleep, Emilia said nothing.
“Emilia?” The door creaked a little bit and Emilia moved to shut the bathroom door. As she did so, Evan’s foot stopped her from closing it all the way.

“You’ve been crying.”

Emilia stared at him for a moment before letting go of the door. He pushed the door open and Emilia looked down at the floor.
“I can't... I can't do this,” she said between heavy breaths. “I can't cope with this, with everything.” Evan stared at her moment and then stepped towards her.
“I understand,” he said with a small frown. “It's okay to be frustrated and angry, it's okay to feel that, Emilia. It's fine to be sad and upset and annoyed. It's okay.”

His words offered little comfort to her. “I hate it!”
“I know,” he said softly. “But it’s okay.”
“How do you know that?” she asked.  “How do you know anything about what this feels like?”

“I lost my memory in an accident when I was eighteen,” he said. Emilia looked up at him. Was he being serious? Or was he just lying to gain her trust or something like that? If he was being honest, that would have been seven years ago. “I didn’t remember moving in with my aunt when I was ten. I didn’t remember anything about high school or anything for the first few days. After a few days, some of it came back. My accident was a lot worse than yours, at least, that’s what I’ve heard.”

“What was your accident?” she asked quietly. She didn’t know why she was asking, maybe curiosity, maybe the need to feel less alone with whatever was happening.
“I don’t remember,” he said. “Even if I did, it doesn’t really matter, does it?”
“Why wouldn’t it matter?” If it was similar to hers, she might know much much she’d remember. She could guess, at the very least.
“It happened a long time ago, a fair few years,” he said with a shrug. It didn’t seem to bother him.

“Did it bother you that you couldn’t remember?”
“Yes. I got angry a lot,” he said honestly. “But some memories came back and I learned to be okay with that.”
“What if mine never come back? What if I never remember?” she whispered. The thought of it terrified her. Losing an entire three months, a lot could happen in three months.
“I’m sure you will.”
“But you don’t know that.” Emilia frowned, he couldn’t know. She wished he did, it would make things easier.
“No,” he said, looking away from her. “I don’t.”

“It doesn’t matter anyway,” she said with a sigh. “Even if I do remember things, it’s not like I can do anything about them.”
This time, Evan frowned. “Emilia…”
“What?” she snapped. “I’m not wrong, am I?”

“I’m trying to help you,” he whispered. He sounded sort of defeated.
“This isn’t helping.”
“But there isn’t anything else I can do,” he said.
Emilia frowned. “You could have called an ambulance or the police or something like that.”
“I promise there’s a reason for it, there is one I just… I can’t tell you. Not right now.”

Emilia didn’t like that answer at all. But she couldn’t really argue with it and didn’t want to risk arguing with it any more.

“I’ve left some more clothes for you, goodnight.”

Emilia just stared at him and took a deep breath in. She really did want to argue with him about it. But he had gotten angry before.

“Goodnight.”