That Sense

• Emilie Hassall, Grade 6
• Short Story
• 2015

I wake. I don’t even know how long I’ve slept for. Could’ve been years.
I’m in bed in an unfamiliar room. My limbs are sore, my breathing difficult.
The door creaks slightly. A lady, maybe in her mid-forties, approaches, seeing me awake.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to disturb you,” she says. “I’m Sara. You don’t need anything, do you?”
I just shake my head. I can’t find my voice.
“Well, you just sing out if you do,” she responds. Then she leaves. If I could speak, I probably would’ve asked where I was, or what I was doing here. I can’t remember anything.
Not even my own identity.

Over the next two days, I remain in bed, and Sara brings me meals. I learn that she is a nurse, and she and her husband, Rob, have 6 children who often come and tell me stories, and they live in a three-storey house. The two oldest, Ben and Liana, helped me to speak again. I asked the youngest, Natalie, how old she thought I was, and she answered twelve.
I wonder what happened to my parents. I wonder if I still have them. What happened to my memory? So many questions unanswered.
The third day I get up and wander around the house. It’s a weekday, and now the house feels vacant, almost depressing. A recognizable stab shoots through me. I have a flashback of a time long, long ago, in a place far, far away. I’m lying on my bed, the curtains drawn. Someone in the next room is sobbing. Is it… my mother?
I return to reality, my breathing rapid, and race to the kitchen. “I need to get outside.” I tell Sara brusquely. She nods without question.
I shuffle into the first pair of boots and a coat that I see, fling open the door, and, for the first time in days I step outside.

The iciness hits me straight away. Still, I gallantly march down the road even though I’m unsure myself of where I’m going. I stumble along until I come to a park. I remember this park. Another flashback. My mother used to take me here all the time, like when she told me… what was it? Something important, life-changing even. Maybe it was the reason I’m in this mess in the first place.

The next day Sara asks me if I want to go with her to the hospital. I answer yes, seeing it as a good chance to get out of the house. Besides, if hospitals make people better, they can’t be bad. How wrong I was.

The second I walk in, the smell hits me. I freeze. My memory comes back, clear and sharp. My parents were diagnosed with cancer. They both passed away. I suffered depression so strong that I…
A scream escapes me. My vision goes blank. I collapse on the floor, wishing I could join them.
I had lost my memory because I had attempted to commit suicide.