Prologue
I was scared, death was upon me, but I wasn't scared of death. It was that I couldn't remember any of my life; I couldn't understand how I got here, I didn't even know where here was. It was a hospital, but where? I wanted to know about my life, to remember it. I remembered it being good, but I remembered being sad as well, sad and angry. But everyone has bad moments in life; it doesn't make their life bad, I thought to myself. There was a man sat holding my hand, I didn't know who he was, but for some reason I wasn't frightened, he seemed good and kind. He just stared into my eyes, was he my partner? He looked so handsome; his blue eyes seemed to melt away my fears. Yes, he could defiantly be trusted.
We just sat there in silence for a while. He never once took his eyes of mine, never let my hand go. I needed to talk; I wasn't sure how to begin.
"Do I know you?" I inquired of the stranger.
"Yes," he replied softly, it was one word, one simple word that I had heard a thousand times before, but it made my heart skip a beat.
"Who are you?" my eyes searched him for any clue.
"Whoever you want me to be," he replied, his head cocked to one side. I didn't say anything after this, his vague answers deterred me from venturing further and it seemed as if he didn't want to talk. We were silent again. Thoughts rushed through my mind. I wished I could just remember him. He seemed important; I hoped he was important to me. I think I liked him. Why was he being so vague? It was annoying. I wanted to talk, to anyone, but now he had got me hooked. He was so mysterious. Those eyes, they seem to hold so many secrets. It was all so interesting, I didn't think I'd ever been that excited, though I couldn't really say, I couldn't remember. What if he was the only person left who cared about me? Was he my only family, my only friend?
That would be sad, maybe I'm a bit of an Eleanor Rigby, I remember thinking. Maybe I should talk to him. It might be my last chance to talk to anyone. I might have hurt him; maybe that's why he's being so vague. He could have hurt me. But he'll think I'm weird, not knowing anything.
There was a constant battle going on inside my head.
Has he talked to me before? Maybe he's already told me about my life, reminded me before and I've forgotten again. Would it annoy him doing it again? No this is stupid he might not even know my life story. But if he didn't know me he would be sitting here. Damn it, I'm gunna talk to him whether he likes it or not, I thought to myself.
"So I'm going to talk and I'm kinda hoping for better answers. But if you don't want to talk you can just say. I doesn't mean I'll shut up, I think I'm dying so I'll just talk to make noise, even if you don't listen." I somehow managed to make the whole thing come out in one breath. I breathed deeply afterwards, which made the strange man laugh. He seemed to be hiding some torture he felt; I could see it in his eyes.
"Talk just to make noise," he murmured, this part of my words seemed to make him laugh. "Ok then," the man leaned in closer, so that we were almost touching noses, "Do you want to hear a story, Miss. Cooper?"
"Ok," I breathed heavily, as I said the word. Who was this guy and why was he having such an effect on me? He leaned out and opened his mouth, beginning to speak...