Chapter 2


Life has a way of being funny sometimes. Here I am a psychologist who lost her memory 10 years ago. I meet different patients daily who tell me their problems and help better their lives and thoughts, yet I can’t seem to find a way to help myself remember my past. 

I have exhausted every book on memory loss, even resorted to crazy ideas I found on g****e and yet everything I tried seemed to not work. This frustrates me a lot and I wish I could have a memory of who I was before all of this. All I remember is Ki, and I wonder what my full name could be.

Kira. Kimberly. Just Kim or maybe Kesha. The search is long considering I'm working with only 2 letters.

“What do you think I should do?”

Shit, not again. I had drifted off from my patient and focused on myself again. So not professional. I exhaled and focused. 

“What do you think you should do?” I looked at him before I looked down and pretended to jot something on my clipboard. I prayed he would give me something to work with, and when he did, I sighed.

“Well, as I was saying. I have the body and the money to get any girl I want, but this one is a challenge and everything I do seems to not work. I sent her a pic of my abs and offered to..” 

I looked up and noticed the session should have been over 5 minutes ago. Good thing he was my last patient. Brent is full of shit, but I can never tell him he is a rich, spoiled brat who thinks daddy’s money and abs can make any girl want him. He thinks he can buy his way through everything. I smiled regardless. He was still my favorite patient, but would never boost his ego. It was big enough.

“Brent, remember what I told you last week? Every time you think of pursuing a girl, think of your little sister and how you would want another boy to treat her.” I crossed my leg over to the other side.

He fidgeted on the couch as his eyes shifted to my legs again. This boy. I sigh.

“Brent, lookup here. Look at my eyes, not my legs.” I gave him a look.

“Right, yes, um,” he cleared his throat before he continued. “You know, did I ever tell you I have a thing for doctors?” he said with a smug smile that made me want to smack that disgusting smile off his face.

“I think that is all we have for today, Brent. I will see you again next week.” I rose from my chair, adjusting my skirt, and placed my clipboard on the table.

“Come on doc, that was a joke. It won’t happen again.”

“And yet we always have the same discussion every session,” I shook my head at him. 

“I’m sorry, doc. Will you at least give me some advice before I go? I think I’m in love,” he said with pleading eyes, with his hands pressed together on his chest.

I shook my head, smiling, “Why don’t you spend this week asking her what she wants, not what you think she wants?” I said, opening the door for him to leave.

“What does that mean?” Seriously this kid. If he spent more time with his studies, things would have been better for him.

“It means you will ask the girl what she likes before you buy her something and address her as a human being, not an object to conquer.” 

“Right, of course, thanks doc,” he grins, pausing at the door, "You smell nice," he winks at me and disappears fast before I can respond. 

I am left shaking my head and I walk back to my desk. Brent is almost seventeen and every time I see him, it feels like I’m having a meeting with a little brother if only he stopped hitting on me every chance he got.



Today is the day I bumped into that girl ten years ago before that truck hit her. I still dream of her most nights and how it would have turned out if I had found her. I have never really committed to the girls who were interested in me and when it got serious with a girl, that’s the more I dream of her and the accident. I have tried to look for her but had no luck. It’s like she vanished on her way to the hospital. 

I always wonder if it had something to do with those two guys in those suits. There were plenty of times I thought maybe I had imagined things because no one disappears like that. Her bracelet is a constant reminder that I could never get rid of. I tried to throw it away in the river once, but all I could see was her helpless body lying on the road and I couldn’t do it. Since I couldn’t get rid of the bracelet, that’s like a curse on my back, I have long kept it away in my bedroom safe. 

My phone beeps in my pocket. There was a reminder on my phone.

To pick Harper at the mall at 5:15 pm.

I dialed her number, and it rang three times before she answered.

“Hey, I was about to call you. I need more time. Haven’t gotten to all the shops.”

“Harper, we discussed this. I will pick you up in 20 and that’s it,” I firmly responded.

“Come on, Jam. Just 30 more minutes, please,” she pleaded, probably pouting.

I sighed, gripping my phone tightly. “Fine, troublemaker. I will be there before 6 and we can grab dinner and also stop calling me Jam.” 

“If you stop calling me troublemaker, I will stop calling you Jam,” she retorted.

“Yeah, yeah. Now I gotta go. See you soon.” I dropped the call and shoved my phone in my pocket.

I hope she will be done by the time I get there because she could be a handful. I drove there and wait outside at the mall. The sooner I get there and mention I was outside, the sooner she would finish her endless shopping. I can’t understand her need for shopping every damn weekend.

It took me about 15 minutes to get to the mall and luckily, by the time I found parking and messaged her, she was done. It was a miracle really to find her almost done and ready to leave. The moment she got in the car, I looked at her.


“Ok officer, Pega,” she rolled her eyes.

“Detective, not officer,” I corrected.

“Fine detective,” she clipped her belt while looking at me, “Happy?” she responded in a sarcastic tone.

“Very,” I smiled. “What do you feel like? Pizza or Burger?” 

“Burger,” she responded happily as I shook my head, driving us home.

“How about we pass by a drive-thru and eat at home?” I looked at her as she nodded.

“Good idea. I’m starving so I can get chicken pops so long. Thanks, Jam.” she beamed, looking forward.

“I thought I told you to stop calling me that,” I scoffed, shaking my head.



There is a soft knock on my door.

“Come in.” I kept my eyes on my notes as I shouted.


“Nick, what are you doing here?” I blurted out, shocked.

“Surprise,” he smiles, pulling out flowers.

“Oh, what’s the occasion?” I furrowed my brows.

“It’s your birthday. I know you don’t like to celebrate your birthday but-” he said, holding the flowers close to his chest with one hand still behind his back.

“Nick!” I said in a soft tone, “I–I don’t think that’s a good idea,” I mumbled my response. “How did you know it was my birthday, anyway?”

“Your father told me. I mean, your adopted father told me,” he averted his gaze. “I also got us take-away in case you said no to the flowers,” he grinned, pulling out his other hand with lifted brows.

Nick Mathews has always come onto me too strongly and has not given up his pursuit, regardless of me shutting him down at every turn. I was not blind to his advances and chivalry, but there was no spark. My heart never hitches when I see him, nor do I fantasize about him. There is nothing wrong with him. He is an attractive guy, but the thing I want is not with him.

I sighed and smiled softly, nodding slowly, “One hour,” I relented. “It’s not appropriate, but you get an hour and not a second more.”

I indulged myself with Nick as we had takeout, and true to my word; I gave him an hour of my time. He was persistent. I will give him that. He also made it his mission to drop me home with his driver. I hate driving and it took years for me to be comfortable being in a car and I can never have the guts to sit on a steering wheel. He knew I don't drive, and that I was going to request a ride or take the bus, so he insisted on offering me a ride I felt was unnecessary. 

I was glad the drive to my apartment was not far because I’m not one for small talk and I’m never in a mood to talk about myself. When the car pulled into my apartment, I thanked him and slid out quickly, not giving him a chance to make more advances. I wish he could see that all I ever want is to be left alone.

I prefer peace because it’s my coping mechanism. I am always fighting a memory battle in my head and there are times I feel like the more I try, the more I'm drowning further down, drifting away from who I am. It’s always useless and frustrating, but I never stop because I need to remember badly. Most of it is the fact that every night I have the same stupid dream. I dread shutting my eyes because the dream feels like it’s wired in my skull to torment me. 

For ten years, I have been having the same dream. I’m running looking for something, then I hit a wall. Suddenly there are flashing lights, a screeching sound, and a pin dropping as I fade away into darkness. It never ends, and it runs over and over without changing that I wished I could stop dreaming completely. My only fear is that one day I’m going to lose my cool because of the dream. A tormenting loop that invades my sleep.

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