Nameless Re-Write

by MemoriesOfTheFlame

I don't remember my name. Or my past. I have amnesia. A boy claims he knows me, and that I'm a country. And he also says that all the other countries have amnesia too. The boy claims to be one too, except has his memories. Should I listen to him? He does seem familiar. But that can't be true can it? Couplings: PruCan Sufin DenNor GerIta Spamano And a couple others. T to be safe.

2. Chapter 2 Diagnosis

I was extremely confused. I had no idea where I was, or how I'd got there. I was in a white room, tucked up in a cosy bed. The room was empty, bar a small TV and a machine I was hooked up to that showed my heartbeat. The doctor walked in not even a minute later.

He explained to me why I was here. I was in a car accident, apparently, but I wasn't so sure. He also told me that I had sustained a fractured wrist, a few bruised ribs and a concussion. Apparently, there were no fractures in my skull, but the blow to my head was enough to give me amnesia. Apparently there was alcohol in my bloodstream-lots of it. He thought that it was the main cause of my accident. I found that pretty damn obvious, to be honest.

"Will I ever get my memory back?"

"Eventually, they will return to you. But give it time. Just don't go drinking and driving again."

I decided not to dwell on the subject. I was pissed off at him for not giving a damn about me! I'm a patient! He's supposed to care about me; that's his job. The only bit of concern he showed was telling me not to drink whilst driving. Of course I wouldn't do that after what had happened. He was talking to me as if I was a huge idiot or something-which I'm not. It's a shame people can be so unprofessional sometimes.

After he walked out of the room, I gazed out of the window and watched over the bustling city. It was covered in light snow, like a cake dusted with icing sugar. People rushed to and fro, from one store to another. I bet none of them were even thinking about the questions that were constantly plaguing my thoughts. It wasn't like they had to, anyway. They were fortunate enough to have the ability to remember. They took their memory for granted.

I just wanted to remember something. I didn't care if only my bad memories returned to me. I really wanted to remember something…anything. Eventually, I gave up looking too much into it and snuggled my head into the pillow in an attempt to get some rest. Maybe my dreams will help me recall a little something.