Disclaimer- If I owned them, do you think I'd have shown a rerun last
week???? NO!
Author's Note- Hey guys! It's finally here! I finally got the first chapter of Jogging in Place up! It's a sequel to The Vital Spark, also written by me. LOL. More chapter should be up soon, as I've got the whole thing written, so it's not like I have to write it! I hope you all like it, and I'd really appreciate it if you replied. It's so much work to do this, and I'd really like to hear your comments. Good, bad or indifferent, I'd love to hear! So reply for goodness sakes! There's no way I'm going to post here if I think you don't like it!
Jogging In Place
Chapter One
Frantic
Michael sighed. His wife couldn't remember the last three years of her life. She couldn't remember the day they took down SD-6, their first date, their wedding day. She could only remember the saddest, darkest days of her life. Just yesterday they had been laughing together while planning a trip to Haiti. Now there was no laughing. He looked at her. She was so beautiful, even with a bruise on her forehead.
Yesterday had been a normal day. In retrospect, all days begin normal. There are no letters from God in your mailbox warning of traumatic experiences later that day. The newspaper's headlines didn't scream that his wife would forget everything they had worked for. He had gotten up, gotten dressed and had a croissant with his wife. His wife, who could remember everything. Soon enough he had to leave for work, and he kissed his wife goodbye, not knowing that the next time he would see her she would be unconscious.
As the story goes, Sydney had gone over to Francie's house to help with Francie's daughter Tara. Francie was going stir-crazy with her daughter, and needed an adult to talk to. Will, Francie's husband, had left Francie and Tara at home for a week while he worked on a news story. Once again Sydney and Francie's day together began normal. They had put Tara to bed and were talking about what had happened on All My Children yesterday when they heard a scamper of tiny footsteps. Sydney had gone upstairs to investigate and slipped on Tara's blanket in the middle of the stairwell. She fell all the way back down and hit her head on the tile below. She remained conscious for a few moments, long enough to tell Francie she was all right before she closed her eyes, not to be woken until today.
When I arrived home I found a frantic Francie. She told me that Sydney had fallen down the stairs and had knocked herself out. She explained that she had not called an ambulance because Sydney had said she was all right. I agreed that if Sydney had remained alert for a few moments, she was probably fine. I took her home and laid her down in our bed. I took a post next to our bed, Donovan outside the door of the room. I never moved until this morning, when she opened her beautiful eyes. I knew something was wrong, because she called me Vaughn. She only resorted to Vaughn in moments of desperation now. It never crossed my mind that she called me Vaughn only because she didn't know my name. It never crossed my mind that when I asked her if she was all right, that she was far from it. It did however cross my mind when she told me to get back in bed because I was sick.
Me sick, I questioned. She agreed that I was very sick; we had all just been poisoned by cyanide. I didn't want to believe it, but she confirmed my fears by asking if her dad had talked to Sloane recently. I wanted to scream. Sloane was locked in a solitary confinement cell in a maximum- security prison, surrounded by guards at all time. I was pretty sure her father had not talked to him, but I was even surer that she had amnesia. I realized that maybe, just maybe I could jog her memory for her. After finding out the last thing she remembered was reading To Kill A Mockingbird together, I pulled out our old and worn copy. Since that day it had become our favorite book, and we often spent rainy evening curled up reading it together. I sat down and began to read the classic tale of Maycomb County's people.
And now I was here. Sitting holding a book, reading to a wife who couldn't remember that we were married. Who couldn't remember that I loved her.
Please review....
Author's Note- Hey guys! It's finally here! I finally got the first chapter of Jogging in Place up! It's a sequel to The Vital Spark, also written by me. LOL. More chapter should be up soon, as I've got the whole thing written, so it's not like I have to write it! I hope you all like it, and I'd really appreciate it if you replied. It's so much work to do this, and I'd really like to hear your comments. Good, bad or indifferent, I'd love to hear! So reply for goodness sakes! There's no way I'm going to post here if I think you don't like it!
Jogging In Place
Chapter One
Frantic
Michael sighed. His wife couldn't remember the last three years of her life. She couldn't remember the day they took down SD-6, their first date, their wedding day. She could only remember the saddest, darkest days of her life. Just yesterday they had been laughing together while planning a trip to Haiti. Now there was no laughing. He looked at her. She was so beautiful, even with a bruise on her forehead.
Yesterday had been a normal day. In retrospect, all days begin normal. There are no letters from God in your mailbox warning of traumatic experiences later that day. The newspaper's headlines didn't scream that his wife would forget everything they had worked for. He had gotten up, gotten dressed and had a croissant with his wife. His wife, who could remember everything. Soon enough he had to leave for work, and he kissed his wife goodbye, not knowing that the next time he would see her she would be unconscious.
As the story goes, Sydney had gone over to Francie's house to help with Francie's daughter Tara. Francie was going stir-crazy with her daughter, and needed an adult to talk to. Will, Francie's husband, had left Francie and Tara at home for a week while he worked on a news story. Once again Sydney and Francie's day together began normal. They had put Tara to bed and were talking about what had happened on All My Children yesterday when they heard a scamper of tiny footsteps. Sydney had gone upstairs to investigate and slipped on Tara's blanket in the middle of the stairwell. She fell all the way back down and hit her head on the tile below. She remained conscious for a few moments, long enough to tell Francie she was all right before she closed her eyes, not to be woken until today.
When I arrived home I found a frantic Francie. She told me that Sydney had fallen down the stairs and had knocked herself out. She explained that she had not called an ambulance because Sydney had said she was all right. I agreed that if Sydney had remained alert for a few moments, she was probably fine. I took her home and laid her down in our bed. I took a post next to our bed, Donovan outside the door of the room. I never moved until this morning, when she opened her beautiful eyes. I knew something was wrong, because she called me Vaughn. She only resorted to Vaughn in moments of desperation now. It never crossed my mind that she called me Vaughn only because she didn't know my name. It never crossed my mind that when I asked her if she was all right, that she was far from it. It did however cross my mind when she told me to get back in bed because I was sick.
Me sick, I questioned. She agreed that I was very sick; we had all just been poisoned by cyanide. I didn't want to believe it, but she confirmed my fears by asking if her dad had talked to Sloane recently. I wanted to scream. Sloane was locked in a solitary confinement cell in a maximum- security prison, surrounded by guards at all time. I was pretty sure her father had not talked to him, but I was even surer that she had amnesia. I realized that maybe, just maybe I could jog her memory for her. After finding out the last thing she remembered was reading To Kill A Mockingbird together, I pulled out our old and worn copy. Since that day it had become our favorite book, and we often spent rainy evening curled up reading it together. I sat down and began to read the classic tale of Maycomb County's people.
And now I was here. Sitting holding a book, reading to a wife who couldn't remember that we were married. Who couldn't remember that I loved her.
Please review....