AN: One shot from Paul's imprints Point of view - inspired by The Vow. Nothing To Recall:
I'd been in a car accident. Or so they say.
Doctors and three weeks in hospital don't lie right? And I know that this constant pain in my head isn't lying. So I guess they were right.
The only thing is I can't remember anyof it - and as I also discovered the past twelve months of my life comes under the 'things I can't remember' category too.
I believe that life's all about moments- moments of impact and moments that create memories and how they changes our lives forever. But what if one day you could no longer remember any of them?
Well that's me. I can't remember the past year of my own life. Doesn't that just suck?
I woke up with a pounding head to find a very worried looking man hovering over me in my hospital bed; I was a little freaked out. He was tall, dark, handsome and had muscles so big they were threatening to break through his tight white top.
The way he was looking at me was very weird, it was like he knew me but not only knew me, it was like… I was something to him.
He reached out to touch me while whispering my name and I jumped about five foot in the air.
That's when it all started- the realisation that id not only had a car crash to end all car crashes but I'd lost part of my memory too.
Id screwed up my car and my brain all in one night. Needless to say I was a little bit pissed.
The guy who was standing over me every day for the three weeks claims his name is Paul and that I was his fiancé.
I demanded proof of course and he provided it- picture after picture of us together with his friends who looked a lot like him, my friends were in the pictures too. Also a very beautiful diamond ring was presented to me. It was weird and unsettling to know that I'd been living a life that I have no memory of.
After three weeks were up I was ready to go home from hospital. But Paul and I both had very different definitions of home.
Apparently I'd moved to La Push a year ago and that I no longer lived in New York. Why I moved from there to… here I have no idea.
After doing some digging in my documents it turned out that he was right- I had moved from New York and id also sold my house so there was nowhere for me to go back to. I had no choice but to go back to Pauls home.
I spent a long time being mad. Mad at everyone and everything. Paul was the one to bare the brunt of my attacks. He was the one who came home night after night to me- a me that couldn't remember anything couldn't remember why I was here and not in New York, couldn't remember anything about Paul and why I decided to get engaged to him.
I couldn't even remember simple things like what id changed my password to on Facebook, or why I decided to change banks. I was a mystery to myself.
I found some kind of reassurance in Pauls home though. I defiantly felt like I'd been here before- obviously because I had but I could clearly see I had been the one to decorate the house. I suppose it was something.
Other than that everything was a complete and utter nightmare. I had to have Pauls help for everything- things like finding where I'd put my driving licence so I could do something simple like buy another car.
He'd bring people round to his house- or our house as he liked to call it. People who would cry in my face and pull at me and tell me how well I looked, they'd whisper behind my back when they thought I wasn't looking asking each other 'so you think she remembers?' well obviously I fucking didn't.
I lost my temper a couple of times, and those gatherings ended early.
I went back to a job that id set up for myself- I was a nurse, I do remember applying for that job but not the response I got or attending the interview.
I guess that I got it. I work alongside a man called Dr Cullen. He's quiet strange but alright, he's the only one that can sort of ease the constant headache in my brain. He lets me focus on the now rather than the past. Work was the only place where I was relaxed.
Things went on like this for months. Paul was upset a lot. I made him sleep on the sofa- he hardly ever slept in the bed with me. I heard him cry a couple of times while I laid there at night, thinking and trying to remember.
After the third month mark I started spending as much time as I could in work, throwing myself into my job- worrying about others and looking after them instead of having to worry and take care of my own life.
Paul hardly came home at nights anymore. I didn't know where he was or who he was with. I didn't ask.
He'd ask me if I wanted to go to the bonfires he and his friends regularly held on the beach- I declined every time and he just eventually stopped asking me. I was thankful that my friends were something I could still remember and that they were always around. They filled me in on the past year as much as they could. One thing that was clear from what they said was that I was happy- veryhappy and madly in love. Apparently I had a nice little life set up.
On the rare occasions that Paul was home- he was asleep on the sofa. I used to look down at him- at his perfect russet skin, his sculpted body, at how his dark eyelashes would cast shadows over his cheek bones and all I could do was question what made us fall in love.
I used to cry myself to sleep on those nights.
It was six months before I finally decided that I was not going to get my life back. The only thing I could do was build a new one.
Id clocked out at work after a good day working with Dr Cullen and I finally felt good outside of the hospital. The sun was shining that day. Dr Cullen said he had things to do so he would be finishing later and stayed behind to work in his office.
I laugh now- it's funny the things you remember.
Leaving work I went home- back to Paul's house. I'd been having some flashes of memory, random things like the name of restraunt's things that made no sense at all. I didn't tell anyone because they were rare and like I said- made no sense.
I packed my bags that evening. My friends were the only ones who knew my plan, they knew me better than anyone and they were the only things I was certain about anymore.
I was showering that evening when I slipped on the bath mat, and smacked my head up against the tiled wall- the white blinding pain I felt in my head was excruciating and my nose poured out with blood. I screamed in frustration and threw the bath mat out of the bath in my temper. "I keep forgetting to throw that out" were the words I spoke in my head.
I froze still standing under the beat of the shower my gaze locked on the rubber bath mat that was mangled on the bathroom floor.
Id remembered. Id remembered that I was going to throw the bath mat out.
I was blinded by pain again and another gush of blood came from my nose. Flashes played in front of my eyes like watching a film on fast-forward.
It was agonizing to remember snip bits of everything I'd forgotten. I remember- remembering who Paul was. Not completely but I knew enough.
Blood was smeared up the tiles in the bathroom and I was gasping for breath clutching my head. It must have looked like a scene from a horror movie.
But to me it was a scene from a fairy tale.
The only thought I had after those short moments of remembering- were that I needed to find Paul. I laughed out loud when I was actually able to remember where he was, who he'd be with and where on the beach he'd be.
I was out of the bathroom dressed and running towards the beach faster than id ever moved in my life.
As I reached the beach, I was in such a hurry to get to him to tell him- no scream at him that I could remember who he was I completely missed the kerb at the end of the parking lot that led onto the sand. I tripped and face planted the hard sand.
A moment of impact.
"Paul!" I screamed. There was pain, blinding pain in every sense of the word- I couldn't see for blood. Then there were flashes. A flash of light filled with memories.
Dark blood in front of my face. Sand. A flash of memories. Sand- sandy. I fought to remember what my brain was trying to get me to remember.
More blood mixed with sand. Sandy. A flash. A wolf. A flash. Grey sand and blood. Another slash of pain cut through my mind followed by a gush of blood.
Grey- grey. A grey wolf. Another flash. Another gush. A cry from me. A shout from Paul. Paul.
Flashes- there were so many of them it was painful; restraunts, people, faces, smiles, Pauls face, shopping, houses. A ring. A car, laughter, happiness. A car, a crash, a smash. Pain.
A gasp.
The flashes stopped, I groaned and tried to avoid getting anymore sand in my face. There was so much blood mixed with the sand around my face- all I could do was cry with happiness.
I looked up to the very worried eyes of Paul and his brothers looking down at me, he grabbed me up off the sand and held me steady "Get and ambulance!" he could sound so much like and alpha when he wanted. I laughed and a bubble of blood popped out of my nose. I was delirious with joy.
Paul was shaking me as gently as he could "Tell them to hurry, she's haemorrhaging!" his eyes snapped back to mine "You're going to be okay babe"
I wanted to correct him and tell him that I was not haemorrhaging- in fact my nose wasn't even bleeding anymore, and that I was indeed going to be okay more than okay actually- and tell him not to worry. But all I could get out between gasps that came from being so overwhelmed and so happy were two words- two simple words.
"I remembered!"
I believe that life's all about moments- moments of impact and moments that create memories and how they changes our lives forever. So you see I was right. A moment of impact changed my life- changed who I was for six months and three weeks; it changed, removed and made memories.