Sorry it took so long; but here it is!
Leave a review afterward, they're greatly appreciated. Even if they're negative ones.
Songs: Incomplete – Backstreet Boys (If you think about her memories, it'll make sense.)
how's your life?
it's been a while since I heard you laugh,
I, sometimes, dream of us so clearly,
in this making of 'memory'
I Think I'm Going Crazy
God, all I wanted was to get out of here.
I sat up on my elbows, squinting against the bright, inconveniently placed clouds which seemed to reflect every little rain drop. The white shades were open, the reflections beat off against the white walls, white bed, and my white, quilted and stiff, and "made with love" blanket. (Though by the tag, which said "made in China" I would guess that the last thing it was made with was love.)
I closed my eyes, yellow and red, and purple spots floating behind my eye-lids. I collapsed onto my bed, my arms and determination giving away to the exhaustion that still lingered in a mist.
I could barely remember what had happened a few days before. All I saw, when I focused on that particular moment, was sea foam, green, murky water, and the back of my eyelids as I tried to keep out the salt. I knew there was more to it, a story behind it that would explain a lot more. But everyone who'd come to visit refused to give me any more details than "You almost drowned."
"You... fell into some water... and you... yeah." Was the most recent excuse from Jacob, he'd gestured towards me in my flannel pajama pants and my fading Foster's Home for Imaginary Friends t-shirt. I'd tried to sit up and hit him, but it was too easy for him to push me back down and demand that I sleep. And unfortunately, all I could do was abide.
Unfortunately because; my haunting dreams seemed to follow me everywhere.
His fingers trailed down my cheeks, following the tears that fell before. I felt needed now, I felt whole, I felt cherished, and loved. I closed my eyes, the remaining tears burning my eyes as I held them in. Daring them not to fall down my face any longer.
I remember his hands feeling colder than normal, but at the time I barely noticed, it was as if he'd just pulled them from an ice-bank, or we were outside in the Winter time. But it didn't bother me, not in the least; it comforted me and rid me of that terrible heat. Where it was coming from, I didn't know.
"Sweets, why are you crying?" His voice was so gentle, so soft. I couldn't imagine it any other way.
I didn't answer his question, I ignored him, I didn't want to talk about it.
"I love you, mister." And I flung my arms around his neck, my little, childish and skinny fingers refusing to let go of his shirt, and I clung to him as he lifted me off the ground. His arms held me steady, but I could still feel his chill through my jacket and jeans.
I wondered if he could even feel the cold, the brisk wind.
But then it shifted; showing me something I had never seen before.
Water swirled and darkened, the light from the world above gradually fading in and out. I turned my face to the sun, the little bit of it that struck through the bubbles and weeds, and trash.
(I knew it was a dream, there was never any sun in Forks.)
I tried to breathe, but I couldn't, and it dawned on me.
I was going to die.
I didn't think this now, but I remember thinking it before. A time ago, and I was scared, was it happening again?
A hand reached out from the darkness, I tried to scream, but nothing came out, nothing happened. Another hand grabbed my fore-arm, but already I was too weak to struggle.
His hands were cold, impossibly so, I could feel them under the freezing water. I could tell him apart from the temperature around me.
That couldn't be normal.
And I knew it wasn't. I also knew there was no way it could be the man from my memories, but I couldn't help but hope, childishly even, thinking it might actually be him. I just wanted so badly for it to be, I thought I'd tricked myself.
And really, how likely would that be?
The bright lights, and possibly the foolish answer to that question was what woke me.
And that's how I realized my awareness, eyes red, bruises darker than ever, and my hair a tangled mess. I rubbed my eyes painfully, they were still dry from my naive adventure a few days before.
I didn't even hear the loud door creak open, just a crack for a man to fit through.
"How's my favorite patient?"
Dr. Lever was probably the strangest (or coolest?) man in the hospital, he was my doctor, I liked to brag. He wore neon ties and pastel shirts. His hair was gray, and he reminded me of that scientist from Back to The Future, Dr. Emmett Brown.
"Emmett... don't you know ANYTHING?"
I jumped at the memory, shook my head and raised an eyebrow in the process, itching to ignore it. I tried paying all of my attention to the doctor across the room. But it was impossible not to think of the sudden retrospect, try and fit it in like a puzzle piece to my thousands of other memories. Trying to find a similar conversation or another sentence. But I didn't remember anything alike, so it couldn't be possible, that would be all I would get.
Lately, memories were flung at me from every angle, though they always had been, for as long as I could remember. But it seemed just recently that they were getting worse, or better, depending on how you looked at it. They came sooner than later, they were vivid, (they almost seemed to be in high definition,) and there were a lot more background noises, more than there used to be anyway. (Television, laughter, screaming, crying, etc.) Crying seemed to be the only memory I got frequently; the only memory I've gotten more than once, really.
It used to be that I would catch a word or two, maybe a sentence rarely. But gradually, it's gotten to be multiple sentences, a few times a conversation. But regularly I'll get only a bit. Something to do with a thought or anything related, though once, and only once, it had been a voice deeming a warning. It scared me enough to stop, it was as if they knew what what was happening, what I was doing to myself.
"Don't you dare, Isabella, for me, keep yourself safe."
I'd tried so hard to erase any memories linking to what I had done, I'd almost found myself forgetting but it scarcely, in a blue moon, repeated itself in my head. The memory, or even, sometimes, the idea.
"Bella?" Dr. Lever questioned, stepping closer to my bedside worriedly. "You alright?" He used a calming voice; I had never seen him so cautious before now.
"You're alright Bella, you're fine now."
"Uh, yeah..." I shook my head, trying to clear it of those unfamiliar memories. "I think."
If anything, my answer probably made everything worse, but he didn't push it. "How have you been feeling, miss Bella?" He'd already asked me that, and it kind of annoyed me; it was one of my pet peeves, having someone repeat themselves or ask a question more than once, more than they really needed to anyway.
"Medical wise." He corrected himself. Smiling slightly, he sat at the bottom of my bed, leaning back casually, apparently at ease with me and his surroundings. "How are you doing medical wise?"
"Umm..." I prodded at a bruise precariously, "Fine."
"Well, then..." He leaned forward and placed his cold fingers along my scalp. "I don't really believe you." He laughed, gently sliding his hand along my hairline. I winced a few times, but he expected it and gave away to no great emotion. A wink now and then, but nothing else.
A few seconds of awkward quiet went by, I knew I was uncomfortable, and I also had a pretty good idea that the doctor was gonna go mad if it stayed silent any longer.
I decided to take a risk.
"Dr. Lever?" I asked nervously. He nodded once, turning away to secretly write his conclusion down.
"Yes, Bella?" He said, scribbling quietly in one of his hunter green binders.
I hesitated, my hands shaking indiscreetly."I think I'm going crazy."
I don't know what in the world convinced me to say it. But I had somehow told myself that I would feel better getting something of this nature off my chest, like maybe if I mentioned something about these odd reminiscences, I would feel better. Maybe these dreams, even these spontaneous memories would leave me, would vanish.
"Why do you think that?" He asked, dropping his pen into the crook of his binder, his voice getting higher at the end of his sentence. I shook my head in a clever gesture.
"Should I know?" I retorted, suddenly feeling very uptight and angered. About what? Who had a clue.
"Are you sure?" He muttered, his hand twitching, his thumb rubbing over each one of his fingers absentmindedly.
I lowered my head, abruptly feeling relieved of the way I had worded it. Of course he wouldn't believe me if I tried to tell him the truth. I met his eyes only for a second. "No, I'm not." I tried to hide a relieved smile.
I was stupid.
Dr. Lever looked at me unsure for only a quarter of a second, giving me a frown before pulling his binder into his lap again and finishing his notes.
When he was done with that too, he leaned forward to check the bruises along my neck and chest. And gradually he lowered his hands, checking every available spot for growing bruises and anything else imaginable. It took a while, but he finally reached the end, he reached my legs, his fingers trailing down my thighs, and then my calves.
"Shouldn't a nurse be doing this?" I asked randomly, straightening my legs to check for any sores or stiffness. He ignored me, after giving me an annoyed and swift glance, pretending not to hear my question.
"All done." He said a few minutes later. I sighed, rolling my eyes just so he could see.
"Have a good day, Bella, just make it through one more and you're home free." He exclaimed happily.
I got the sneaking suspicion that he wanted to get rid of me.
Dr. Lever's POV
She'd almost caught onto me, I know it.
I looked over my shoulder, watching her try to get comfortable in her bed. I cracked my fingers impatiently, (A bad habit of mine.) And leaned against the wall outside of another room, just a few down from Bella's.
"Adam?" A soft voice asked from next to me, scaring me without reason.
I looked over, smiling. "Ah, Dr. Cullen."
"Carlisle, please." I nodded once, curtly, and apologized.
"I'll get straight to the point Carlisle, as I know you've been a bit impatient lately." I took a dramatic pause just to annoy him. "Bella's fine. There's no decline in her progress, all of her bruises and inflictions are healing. She should be out of here tomorrow if she's lucky." I could tell he was thankful, I'd never felt more inclined to do a favor for this man. "She's a smart little thing, you know. She almost caught onto me, asking why a nurse wasn't the one checking on her."
I didn't dare mention her words. "I think I'm going crazy." Somehow, I believed her. Though I still didn't know how and in what way.
"Really?" He pondered this, looking past me and into the small girl's room. "Well," He continued a few seconds later, reluctantly removing his eyes from her to me, "Anyway, thank you, Adam. If you ever need anything-"
"I do actually have a question." I cut in, biting the inside of my cheek worriedly, nervously, and afraid I'd be pushing the limits on "just work partners." But I was probably over-thinking it as usual.
"Of course." He gestured with his head to continue.
"Why did you want me to check on her? Why not a nurse, or even yourself? And it seems strange, do you even know this girl?" He looked thoughtful for a moment, and I was afraid he'd lie to get out of my question. But he shrugged, such an odd thing for Dr. Cullen to do, something so casual as a shrug of the shoulders or twitch of the hands; it just didn't seem normal for him. Sadly he was such a stiff and controlled man.
"I don't really trust the nurses, and as for myself, I was... a bit busy." He ran his fingers along his scalp carefully, daring me to question him again. His unwavering eyes staring into mine, his head bent low, a threat, as if telling me that it was nothing more.
I tilted my head curiously, like a dog might do when they await a favorite toy to try and run away, I inspected every inch of him. But I found no reason not to believe his story.
But that still didn't- forget it, if it was personal, I wouldn't intrude.
"Very well." I murmured, giving him a small nod of approval.
"Thank you for your time, Dr. Lever." He said formally, breaking his own "Call me by my first name" guideline. "But I must be going."
I gave him an odd look. "Of course."
I'm glad I didn't mention anything about lunatics.
As for secrecy, I thought, that's gone down the tube.
I looked over my shoulder, noticing the worried and speculating gaze sent to me by Dr. Lever. I tried to ignore it, but I could feel it bore into my back... as if he could see straight through my facade. Though I'm sure it was just the nerves eating away at me. He was a confused man, and I'm sure that was all it was.
I knew I was a bad liar, I admit that, but hopefully I was good enough to keep away the fact that I had an unhealthy obsession with this girl. But how would he know that? I hadn't given away too much, had I?
Adam's suspicions would go away, I trusted him explicitly, and that is why I had chosen him for such a tedious task. Again, I checked to see if he was still watching, but he had turned and left me alone with the flirty and uncompromisable nurses at the nurse's station. He was nowhere to be seen.
And for that, all I had to be was thankful.
Well, what do you think? I'm sorry about any mistakes. Had a lot of fun writing, and sorry it to so long, but at least it wasn't another few months. Like last time...
I'm forgetting about the old storyline, not on purpose, and this story has a bunch of ideas of it's own. We're just going with the flow.
Leave a review; I'll get back to you quickly for any questions or comments.