My head was splitting. Cracked open, exposed like a nerve as I desperately wracked my damaged memory for something familiar, for something that made sense.It felt like I was scanning old photographs, some blurry and unfocused while others were crisp. Some had a strange film over them, too shiny--to accurate.I still remembered the night I lost my memory, the night I hit my head. Dad and I had gone camping, as we had many times before. I could remember the taste of smoke wafting from the campfire, the sharp scent of damp leaves and dirt. I could even remember the brilliant moon, just a small sliver in the sky. I remembered the scent of a wet animal as the large grizzly bear stepped into the small clearing with my Dad and I. I remembered how it stood on its hind legs, its beady little eyes staring us down. How silly the bear must have felt, I remembered thinking countless times. It had thought we were the prey, that we were weak, defenseless humans. It didn't know my Da
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