Day

Antarctica hadn't changed at all. Not that I've been away for long. I don't know why I was expecting some big change, some difference now that I have the memories of ten years that I didn't have when I was living here. But everything's the same way it was when I left.

Anden was right, he did have all arranged. He hired a limousine's driver to wait for us at the airport and then he led us to the hotel where we were going to stay in. We checked in and the receptionist told me that our stay was already paid. She didn't tell me for how long, though. Just that the man who did the booking (Anden or one of Anden's assistant I suppose) said that he'll be in touch and that he'll arrange the flight back, we didn't have to do or worry about anything. When the receptionist's told me this, she emphasized on the "we didn't have to do or worry about anything" part.

"It's okay, Anden" I wish I could say to him "I won't run away without your permission, Geez"

Like if I could do that. Like if if I hadn't agreed to do all this he wouldn't have made me. Everything has to be done the way he wants it, the moment he wants it. It surprises me the similarity he has with his father. A shiver runs through my spine when I picture the image of Anden's father in my head. The old Elector. No, Anden's not like his father...yet.

We go to our assigned rooms and I'm so tired that I don't even bother inspecting them, I bet Anden's picked something glamorous and expensive, so I just lie down in the glamorous and expensive bed, hearing Eden unpacking some of his stuff. I want to tell him to chill out a little bit because we're not staying here for long but the bed is so comfortable that it doesn't let me think about anything but sleep. So I fall asleep.

When I wake up, Eden's gone. He left a note saying that he was going to visit some of his friends and that he'll be back for dinner. So basically, I have four hours until he gets back and that's enough time for me to do what I came to do here. I grab a jacket because it's freezing cold out there and I walk through the door. Heading to the hospital.

Apparently, Anden had also arranged the "medical stuff" I asked for because when I ask the receptionist where the nearest hospital is, she indicates me on a mini-GPS a hospital a few blocks aways from here and tells me that I have an appointment at five o'clock.

The hospital I'm at right now it's nothing like the hospitals back at home. Not even the hospitals that I used to visit when I was living here. Even though I'm only familiarized with the psychology section of hospitals, since that's where I used to go the past ten years, for my every-day therapy sessions, I can tell that this place is better than the rest. It looks like a place where famous people take their children when they're sick, a place for rich people. Obviously, the rich always have it better.

While I'm filling the data sheet the receptionist's just gave me I feel it again. The pain in the back of my head. It hits me so hard and off guard that I drop my pen to the floor. The pain's increased so I have to hurry with this.

Day

I've been for half an hour now sitting on this chair, in front of the doctor's desk, trying to explain to him everything that happened, especially the losing-my-memory-and-then-getting-it-back part because he doesn't seem to get it.

"It's impossible" the doctor shakes his head in disbelief as I tell him the story, again. "It's just impossible".

I take a deep breath and count to ten, my patience seems to not be working today so I try to calm down before explain it again.

"It is possible" I assure him "It's happened to me".

He's still shaking his head. "It's not possible that you are here alive, sitting in front of me. A process like that...You can't just get all the memories that you have lost back in a minute. Not without some kind of repercussion"

I run a hand through my hair, because this is where it gets complicated.

"Well" I start saying "It may have some kind of repercussion". And after this I tell him about the return of my headaches and my ocassionally memory lapses.

The doctor's not shaking his head anymore, he's nodding actually. Nodding slowly. He's looking at me but he doesn't seem to be concentrated in my words. His gaze actually seems lost. And sad. Like if he already knew what's going to happen now, and that I'm not going to like it.