Retrograde Amnesia

Callen, Age 5

It was his earliest memory, foggy and faded but refusing to leave him altogether. It was what came to mind when he forced himself to think back, to try and remember something, anything, from before... Before he became a nameless orphan alone in a world of forgotten children. Before his only reminder of the life he might have had was the first initial of that long lost name. Some days he had to wonder how much of it was real at all, but most of the time he knew that old and grainy as it may be it was very real and he wasn't sure if that made it better or worse.

It was a hospital, somehow even his five year old brain had realized that much within moments of opening his eyes, (the musty yellow of the walls and the rough blankets pulled up to his chest gave it away,) and he was very much alone. There was a funny pain in his hand where a needle pierced the skin and his nose itched from the tubes wedged inside. He did not understand; the machines, the room, the funny paint and unnaturally cold air being forced down his nose they were all completely foreign to him. But still he was not scared, though he didn't understand that either. He was alone and it was quiet and somehow that was okay with him.

But the quiet did not last long. The door opened and the sound entered in the form of a young nurse, all red curls piled high on her head, pushing a cart before her with a smile on her face. "Good morning, Sweetheart," she said kindly, leaving the cart in the corner of the room and moving to begin checking the machines and tubes and other strange creations which surrounded him, "How are you feeling?"

He tried to shrug but his shoulders hurt so he stopped and spoke instead, caught off guard by a quiet voice he did not recognize but knew must be his own. "I'm okay..."

The nurse's smile did not falter at the vagueness or half-hearted nature of his answer and she continued to work as cheerfully as before. "Does anything hurt? Maybe your shoulders or your tummy? Anything?" she asked him gently.

"Both," the boy answered softly, noticing for the first time a pain similar to that in his shoulders coming from his lower belly. He wondered if he should be worried. Was she going to ask him what happened? He didn't know if he could answer that, in fact he knew he couldn't. Maybe he should lie, she might be mad at him if he couldn't tell her...

"Your shoulders and your tummy?" the nurse clarified, pulling him from his thoughts as she slipped the hospital gown out of the way slightly to examine his tiny shoulder blades.

The child nodded silently, watching her work with an odd fascination. He didn't know what she was looking for but her poking hurt him. He whimpered slightly but quickly forced himself to fall silent hoping she hadn't noticed.

But she had and stopped her poking, frowning as she slid the garment back into place. "I'm sorry," she told him, "You have some bruises on your shoulders and your tummy, but it's okay, they'll go away soon." Lifting the blanket which had been covering him gently and setting it to one side she smiled up at him again. "I need to check on your tummy, Sweetheart, is that okay?"

Still uncertain about her reaction to his last protest he nodded quickly. "Yeah," he replied softly, "But it hurts..." He couldn't help the last part, it was true, her poking hurt and he didn't like it but he shouldn't have told her. Chewing his bottom lip slightly he turned away hoping she wouldn't get mad at him.

"I promise I'll be gentle," the nurse assured him, moving the gown out of the way again to examine the thick purple bruise which ran along his waist. "Sweetheart, I'm going to need to ask you some questions, okay?" she continued as she worked, looking up at the boy to judge his reaction. There was none. "It'll help us find your mommy and daddy so you can go home again." Again there was no response so she carried on. "What's your name, Sweetheart?"

It was only then that the boy moved, turning his head to stare at her a moment before managing a week shrug. "I donno," he murmured, feeling shame creep slowly into his mind and warmth spread across his cheeks. Because he didn't know, and try as he might to answer her question his world was a dark mass before the light of the hospital room. And just like that she shame was replaced with a wave of fright which passed over him as he realized that there was nothing to remember, "Why am I here?"

"You were in a car accident, Sweety," the nurse replied, "Your car fell into the river. Do you remember anything about that?"

The child shook his head. "Just quiet, then loud, then water... Then dark..." He began to tremble slightly, unable to stop it, and the nurse reached out and took his hands.

"It's okay. You'll remember everything in time. You were under water for a very long time and it hurt your head a little, when it gets better you'll remember," she told him with a confident smile. She squeezed his hands once more before standing up and making her way over to the cart and reaching under it, emerging a moment later with a battered old teddy bear in hand. "We found this with you," she told him returning to his side and holding it out, "You were holding it. It says G. Callen on it; do you know the name Callen?"

The boy shook his head sadly, taking the teddy from her and staring at it as though it could give him all the answers in the world. It was rather grungy looking, confirming easily that it had been underwater for a considerable period of time. An ear was missing and the fur, at one time fluffy and a soft brown, was now faded and stuck together making it rough against his small hands.

"What about G? Do you remember anyone with a name that started with G? Greg? Gary? George?"

Again the child shook his head and held the bear tighter to his chest, shaking once more. He couldn't answer. He didn't know, and he knew she didn't like it. He wanted to apologise, wanted to remember, something, anything, but try as he might nothing came. Just that same, empty darkness and he buried his head in the bear looking for some kind of comfort in its battered fur.

"Okay, that's okay," said the nurse quickly, giving him another gentle smile, "I have an idea. What if we call you G. Callen? Just until you remember everything? Is that okay?"

The boy raised his head, trying unsuccessfully to blink away the tears which had risen to his eyes. He sniffed weakly and considered her for a moment before nodding. "Okay," he whispered.

The woman beamed. "Good. Okay G, I have one more thing to show you then," she told him, pulling a photo out of her pocket as she spoke and holding it out for him to see, "We found her about nine days after your car crashed. She says she has a brother. Do you know her?"

It was the picture of a girl, a few years older than him with white blond hair and big blue eyes. She too was wearing a hospital gown and looked thin and sick, with dark bags throwing her otherwise childlike face into stark contrast. She wasn't smiling and her eyes looked sad, as though she was lost in the dark with no way out and no one to help her. Her hair was matted, hanging across her face and giving her an even more forlorn expression than her empty eyes alone could have ever done. She looked simply helpless.

But the boy, G. Callen now, shook his head. He wanted to know her, wanted to remember her but he didn't. He was alone. Like her. "I don't have a sister," he said softly.

"Alright," said the nurse, nodding as she slipped the photo away, "Thank you, G, you try and get some rest now." She stood and made to leave the room when a soft voice from behind her made her turn.

"Wait," said Callen shyly, holding out the teddy she had presented him earlier for her to take back.

"You keep it," she said with a sad smile, "It's yours."

And she left, leaving the boy to curl his arms around the only thing in this new, empty world that belonged to him.