BOY MANIAC

Chapter 4

I lay on my gurney, waiting for my mom to return so we could engage in our normal discussion: Our conversation were so much more than words; the smiles, the gentle shrugs, nodding, winking and bla,bla,bla. The light in my moms eyes gave me peace and comfortable. So I lay there; longing to see them. A figure caught the corner of my eye. I couldn't prevent myself from glancing at who it was. When I turned my neck around, my eyes fell on a girl. she was petite and dainty. Her hair was black with brown highlights; it flowed like a river down her tan shoulders; cascading them like a waterfall. She was putting on a casual form fitting gown. My gaze turned downward. She was carrying a white plastic basket in her right hand.  

“Hi stiles”

she greeted; dropping the basket on the floor, close to my gurney. “Oh! Stiles you look great today. Your eyes, they look livelier than ever.”

She said, suddenly placing her hands gently on the sides of my face, caressing my cheeks, kissing me over and over again on my temple. Her voice was like music under a warm summer breeze and her smile was like sunshine. “Can you see me clearly now. Can you hear me now, or feel my touch?”

She said with black luminescent eyes that glistened with tears, but I didn’t utter a word. Her action left me stunned. My eyes bore into hers; staring daggers at her, I  wondered who the hell she was. “hey come on, why are you staring at me like that? Aren’t you happy to see me?”

She inquired anxiously.

“I’m sorry, but who the hell are you?”

I mumbled.

“OMG! You still don't remember me.”

She said shaking her head.

“I said who the hell you?”

“Wow! wow! wow! Relax sweet heart, don't be so weird and grumpy”

she said and pouted her pink lips. Her eyes flooded with sultriness. She slowly reached out her hand to touch me again but I fired. “Don't you dare touch me again." “Tell me who the hell you are or you get the fuck out of my bed.” “Okay fine, fine, fine. I am AY”

she replied and bit her lower lip. For a moment I stared intently at her; she wasn't a bit familiar.

“I missed you a lot. Did you miss me?”

She asked in a sultry voice. “What!?”

I blurted arching a brow. “Did you miss me?”

“Are you nuts? I said I don't know you. Stop your nagging already, and get the hell out of my bed.” “Hey relax you grumpy man” “Can you please leave me alone.... I wanted to relax before you bumped in”

A moment of silence followed; One second passed; Two seconds passed; Three seconds passed, yet no one uttered another word. “phew”

I gave a sigh of relief, but before I could lay my head back on bed she broke the silence.

“Can you remember this?”

She asked stretching her hand towards my face; showing me her delicate pinky finger.

“What again!?”  

I asked, feigning annoyance. “prove that we are still going to be together forever…”

She said, extending her hand the more.

“Are you nuts? I said I don't know you. Stop this already. I'm not ready for silly childish games.” “You mean you can’t remember me? This is awkward. Don't you remember: the songs, the chattings, jokes and stuffs we did this past week. Can't you remember?”

My eyes narrowed as she kept pestering me. A sudden surge of anger hit my guts like the speed of light and the next thing I knew I found myself yelling.

"What the hell don't you understand? I said I don't know you bitch. Leave me alone.”

I fired.

AY’s eyes widened with shock; a bemused expression immediately spread across her smooth face. Just then my mom arrived and inquired.

“What is going on here?”

“Mom, this bitch claims that she knows me. Can you imagine. She came out of nowhere, kissing me like some fucking slut and nagging me.”

“Calm down styles. This is AY, the girl I told you about. The one I showed you in the pictures.”

My mind suddenly went blank. I searched every nook and cranny of my thought, but I couldn't recall any face I had seen on the photographs. Not even one. I was lost in a foggy world. I tried to recall at least one face but my mind was void.

“Stiles you just called me a slut” AY said, placing her hands on her chest.

“Oh dear, oh dear. I'm sorry on his behalf. Please don't take it personal okay....”

my mom said softly patting AY on the back.

“Why is he so rude to me?”

“That’s how he reacts when he sees a stranger or should I say visitor...”

“But I'm not a stranger; I'm his best friend for crying out loud. Why can't he remember me. Why do you have to apologise for him I don't understand?”

AY asked; tears welling in her eyes. My mom gave her an intent look then finally uttered. “Amnesia.”

“What!? what do you mean?”

AY asked anxiously.

“His memories; there's a probability that he has lost them.” “No way! it can’t be, you must be kidding me!”

“I wish I was. He can’t remember you; not even me. He remembers nothing.”

AY slowly covered her mouth with her fingers.

“But he remembers you. He called you mom.”

“I told him I'm his mother. He doesn't remember me too.”

“Oh no! Oh no! If his memories are gone that means Stiles is no more. Without his memories I'm nothing to him.”

Tears slowly formed in her eyes.

“No! My Stiles is gone”

She let out over and over again.

“Come here my child” 

My mom said pulling her to herself. A whimper escaped her lips. She sniffled quietly and chewed on her lower lip.

“Stiles would never talk to me like this....”

She kept on saying. Her eyes welled up with tears which threatened to spill but she kept blinking her eyes to keep em from falling.

“don’t cry my child. Let’s just be happy that Stiles is alive.” 

My mom said and pat her softly on the head.

“No, this is not Stiles”

Ay collapsed on my mom, her head on my mom's shoulders; dejected and swollen with emotions, she closed her eyes.

My emotions suddenly turned jagged and my insides tightened. A searing guilt gripped my heart, an aura of grey enveloped me as a tear trickled down her eye. I wanted to cried out. I wanted to say I am sorry AY, please..... Come sit with me; hold my hand. Look into my eyes, and tell me you've forgiven me. I wanted to be Mister nice guy. I wanted to say something nice to her, but I couldn't will my lips to move. So I just lay on my bed; looked away, and let the guilt eat me up.

                       *          *.         *

                           *.     *.     *.

The memory loss I had wasn't a sweet romantic dream but an horrible nightmare. When things were calm and everyone seemed nice, that's when I'd find fault in someone or something. I was agitated by the people who loved me, unable to deal with the intensity of their emotions. I couldn't recall many words, or how to read but whenever my emotions turned - cold; I would find myself releasing tons of grammars and cusswords. I would strike out at anyone who loved me; my mom, doctors, nurses or visitors. There was something magical about my mom, despite all my ruthless blunders; my mom always managed to keep a faltering smile. 

Loved ones visited; some came with gifts while some pestered me with lots of questions; concerning what I could remember.

“It's me Becca do you remember?”

“Do you remember my nickname?”

“Mrs Smith why can't he remember us?”

They'd ask my mom who'd say

“He has amnesia.... So he can't remember much”

“Oh really? I don't know what is amnesia but sorry Stiles.”

Granny's were the worse. They'd be like...

“Oh...so unfortunate”

“heya, poor old boy”

“I feel so sorry for him”

It irked me, when they'd reach out and touch me with there scrawny fragile hands; shaking there heads like some fucking wake keepers.

Hate welled inside my guts when ever they sympathize with me. My eyes would flood with rage, my muscles would become tense; my fists firm by my sides; twitching as I tried to keep my cool. At that moment I was like a volcano, ready to erupt at anytime. My ability to think clearly at the moment would vanish: Why the fuck are they looking at me like that? Am I going to die real soon? For christ sake, is this amnesia incurable? Is it more worse than AIDS?  

When the pressure rises beyond my control I fired

“Fuck you bitch”

“Fuck you old cunt”

“you shitty bastard.”

“Mr bald head don't you touch me”

“leave me the fuck alone”

“get your scrawny hands of me,”

I couldn't help it; my fleeting thoughts were tormentors, a torture I couldn't escape.

I lived in hate and anger; I never wanted to be that way; Deep down my guts I simply wanted to be kind to everyone. I had a loving heart. I could still take the right choice; but this brain, it was a tormentor; when ever it is triggered I losed self control, I'm doing the actions, but deep in my guts I wanted it all to stop, but I just couldn't will my lips to stop.

When there are no visitors, my mom would settle before me; a faltering smile on her face. 

"How are you feeling?" 

she would ask peering into my face.

“I'm fine mom”

I would reply; forcing a smile.

“Styles, the way you behaved earlier today wasn't fare at all. You were so hostile to your visitors. You scared them”

“Mom I swear. I don't know what came over me. You wont believe me, but I never meant to say any of that. I swear, I swear, I swear. I didn't mean it.”

I would say sheepishly. 

“That’s what you say all the time. But I believe you.”

“You do!”

“Yeah....but you have to stop throwing tantrums. You are no longer a kid. You are seventeen years old.”

I started therapies: physical therapy; psychotherapy or whatever; My handwriting was junky, like jumble of gray threads. I couldn't read, tie my shoes, write my name, fuck! I couldn't do any fucking thing right; let alone, wearing my slippers. That gravelly rage, that seemed to envelope me disappeared; my temper cool like ice water whenever I was with my psychotherapist. Her english accent was as sexy as her chest. Instead of saying,

"fuck you," I would say, “love you.” Instead of saying, “you are crazy.” I would say "you are a genius,"

After our usual discussions, my mom lay on an unoccupied gurney by my side; winked at me and closed her eyes; her shoulders heaving as she dozed off.

Moments later a velvety voice greeted.

“Hello...”

I darted my eyes around; it fell on a girl standing by my side. She gave a fleeting smile and sat by my corner. Her black and brownish hair fell in perfect curls on her tan shoulders. I watched as she dug a big phone out of her pink purse and tapped her slender fingers against it's screen. I wanted to talk to her, I wanted to know who she was; why she came; I wanted to be a real person; become a friend to someone, but my fear of messing up wouldn't let me utter a word. For couple of minutes my eyes remained fixed on her. I tapped my fingers restlessly on my lap and heaved a exasperated sigh.

“Hi..”

I finally uttered, peering into her face.

“yeah Hi”

She retorted; smiled fleetingly and turned back to her phone almost immediately.

I just have to think of something else to discuss with her.

“Err... you came to see someone?”

I asked, the corner of my lips fighting to retain a smile. She raised her head nodded and fixed her eyes back on the screen again.

“Okay” I said.

“I don't mean to bother you, my mom over there fell asleep so I'm just bored and needed someone to talk to,”

I added. The beautiful damsel raised up her oval face; her golden brown eyes staring at me.

“You think I'm still mad at you right? But not at all. I'm not the grudge keeping type, I'm just being careful; keeping my distance so I won't piss you off; so you won't fire at me. Anyways, glad to see that you are looking nice and friendly again.”

“Mad!?”

I blurted

“What are you saying? Why would you be mad at me? for the records we just met today, or have we met before?”

“Huh...?”

she blurted, her eyes wide open.

“Are you kidding me?”

she asked.

“Why would I?”

I retorted.

“This is absurd”

She muttered.

“What is the matter?”

“You don't know me?”

“I don't”

I replied, shrugging my shoulders.

“Come on, I'm AY. The girl who you made to cry like a cry baby”

“I don't remember”

I shrugged.

“It was a week ago, when you...called me a slut, because I was so over you; happy to see you strong again, but you ruined everything by calling me a bitch; a slut”

“I'm sorry, but I don't remember”

I searched the pool of my thought but I couldn't recall anything she was saying.

“It is okay, like I said; I'm not the grudge holding kind. So it's okay.”

A moment of silence followed; One second passed; Two seconds passed; Three seconds passed, yet no one uttered another word, until her mellifluous voice broke the silence.

“Hmm, hmm lest I forget”

“Wole said I should give These to you.”

She added handing me two envelopes and a transparent packet; bright yellow flowers in it.

“Wole? Who is Wole?”

I asked with questioning brows.

“Wole is your best friend. He used to visit you often, but recently he travelled to Port Harcourt, he and his family to spend their holidays with his grandparents. So he won’t be able to pay you a visit until he gets back.” 

“go ahead and open your flowers.”

She added.

Some petals fell, slowly swaying with gravity towards the floor as I picked the flowers out of there transparent packets. There bright golden petals, beautiful like a sun showing of in the horizon. Stalks firm like sugarcane. I stuffed them into my nose; the scent of the flowers; perfect as a choreographed ballet.

“Come on, read your letters”

AY urged me.