Sorry these past two chapters have taken so long. But FanFiction was down
and I was having serious problems...Once again, sorry.
Chapter 33: Going Back
Chanse's eyes fluttered open as she felt the warmth of the early morning sun's ray spread over her. She looked around the room. 'How did I get here?' Chanse thought as she looked around some more and realized she was in the Hospital Wing. 'Last I remember Mary was talking with Tom, and...'
Chanse was about to jump out of the bed and sprint towards the Great Hall when something moved slightly by her side. She quietly looked over and saw a man with his head on her bed, sleeping. Chanse looked down to see he was holding her right hand. 'He must have been a good friend of mine.' Chanse thought with a smile.
She reached her left hand over and softly ran her fingers through his hair. When her fingers touched his hair the man turned his cheek.
"Oliver," Chanse whispered.
"Huh?" Oliver slowly lifted his head to Chanse, "You remember my name?" Oliver asked a little weary of the answer.
Chanse slowly shook her head no. "No. I don't. I've just learned that's your name." She whispered.
Oliver sighed as he nodded his head, "I thought as much." He said softly.
"I'm sorry." Chanse whispered as she looked down at her sheets.
"Hey," Oliver lifted Chanse's face up to face his face, "It's not your fault."
Chanse nodded, "Alright."
She softly smiled at Oliver, 'I wish I could remember him. He's been with me since this all started, and yet I still can't remember him.' Chanse thought sadly.
"Where's Cho?" Chanse whispered.
"Not trying to be mean, Chanse," Oliver chuckled, "but do you even remember Cho?"
Chanse smiled and looked up at Oliver, "Remember her? Of course," she laughed. "I remember that she was my best friend in Ravenclaw house, and then I got transferred to Gryffindor House. Then Cho and I had a rough time in our friendship, and we just recently started getting it back to it's normal level...all because I wanted to leave." She chuckled.
"What?" Oliver gasped, "You remember all that? No one told you that?"
Chanse shrugged with a smile, "No. It just sort of...came to me."
"I'm...going to get Madam Pomfrey," Oliver said a little distracted as he stood and slowly left.
"You alright Oliver?" Chanse looked at Oliver in confusion.
"Yeah," Oliver nodded a couple times, "I'm fine."
"Alright," Chanse shrugged as she watched him leave. 'What's wrong with him?' She thought as she crawled out of bed.
She stood up and walked over to the large window and stared out at everyone playing, 'Could it all have been a dream? Maybe I just bumped my head and can't remember recent events...or something.' Chanse thought as she stared out, over everyone.
"Miss Potter?" a voice asked from behind.
Chanse turned around to find Madam Pomfrey and Oliver standing by the door. "Hello Madam Pomfrey." Chanse smiled.
"You remember me?" Madam Pomfrey took a step forward.
"Of course," Chanse nodded as she turned away from the window.
Madam Pomfrey bustled over to Chanse. "You shouldn't be out off bed," Madam Pomfrey started to escort Chanse over to her bed.
"Madam Pomfrey," Chanse laughed, "I feel fine."
Madam Pomfrey stopped and looked over at Chanse, "With what you went through I think you should stay in bed, and I'm the nurse of this school..."
Chanse looked at Madam Pomfrey and interrupted her, "I went through? What'd I go through?" Chanse felt her heart sink.
"Chanse," Madam Pomfrey sighed as she looked down.
"What? What happened to me?!" Chanse shouted as she looked over at Oliver, who just looked away. "Somebody tell me...please?!"
Chanse's eye shot open as she saw a dark ceiling above her. She was panting and sweating, "It was just a dream." She whispered.
"What was a dream?" A voice asked.
Chanse turned her head to the left and saw Madam Pomfrey adjusting some knobs. "Nothing. I just had a bad dream." Chanse looked over at the left side of the bed.
"I see," Madam Pomfrey whispered. "How are you feeling?"
"Alright, I guess," Chanse felt like her chest was a little tight and she felt everything she did was hard.
"And you memory?"
"What about it?" Chanse looked up at Madam Pomfrey.
"How is it?" She sat down on the edge of the bed and began to wipe the sweat beads off Chanse's forehead. "Do you remember much?"
Chanse nodded, "Yes. I remember everything," she said as if she wasn't truly speaking.
Madam Pomfrey nodded, "I thought so."
Chanse snapped out of her daze, "What do you mean?"
"Your health has deceased extremely," Madam Pomfrey whispered as she looked away from Chanse.
"I don't remember things from the end of last year." Chanse said as if it was some consolation prize for remembering everything.
"And that's why you're not dead," Madam Pomfrey said just above a whisper.
"Dead?" Chanse gasped. "So it's true. I really am dying..." Her voice trailed off as she slowly closed her eyes and turned away from Madam Pomfrey.
Madam Pomfrey didn't say anything. She didn't need to. The silence was all Chanse needed and wanted to hear. That's what told her it was true.
She opened her eyes and saw Oliver asleep in a chair, with his head on the bed and his hand holding Chanse's right hand. 'Just like my dream.' Chanse thought. "How long has Oliver been here?" Chanse whispered as she looked back over at Madam Pomfrey.
"Since this morning," Madam Pomfrey nodded as she adjusted a few more things.
Chanse stared at Oliver's features; short brown hair, burly, and a nice tan. She looked over at his hand, which, even though he was sleeping, was still holding a strong, but soft, grip on Chanse's hand.
"Do you remember him?" Madam Pomfrey whispered as she started to straighten up the room.
"Oliver?" Chanse asked and saw Madam Pomfrey nod. "Not really. I barely remember him. I remember everyone else more then I remember him."
Madam Pomfrey stopped and walked back over to Chanse, "What else do you remember?" She asked as she sat back down.
"I don't really remember everyone, as much as I remember more what I've gone through with them."
"Isn't that what a memory is? Time spent with others?"
"Yes, but you need to know those people to have a memory." Chanse sighed.
"Chanse," Madam Pomfrey placed her hand on Chanse's knee, "I think you're just wanting to remember every single detail about every single person, and you can't do that."
"Why not?" Chanse gasped, "What can't I?"
"Chanse you say you understand you're going to die, but sometimes I think you forget that."
"I just want my memory back, Madam Pomfrey," Chanse sighed. "I understand I'm going to die. I just feel that I need my memory before I do. Like if I try to remember quicker I'll have more time with everyone."
"Chanse that's not how this works."
"I know." Chanse huffed.
"Chanse," Madam Pomfrey said calmly. "There's no point in rushing this...It's actually better if you don't rush this."
"Madam Pomfrey, you and I both know that I'm going to die no matter what," Chanse felt a strange calmness run over her body. "So what does it matter if it's tonight, or tomorrow, or a week from now, or a month? Why does THAT matter?"
Madam Pomfrey stood up and smoothed out Chanse's sheets, "Because you graduate in two days." Madam Pomfrey started towards the door.
"I...I graduate?" Chanse gasped.
"Yes. You become a full-fledge witch," Madam Pomfrey opened the door, "and that's something to wait for...Don't you think so?"
Chanse looked down at her sheets, "A witch," she gasped. 'I'm becoming a true witch in two days.' She thought. "Yes," she whispered.
"Now get some sleep Chanse," Madam Pomfrey smiled, "You need to get your strength back from graduation."
Chanse watched as Madam Pomfrey started to close the door, "Madam Pomfrey." Chanse said loudly.
Madam Pomfrey opened the door again and stuck her head in, "Yes Chanse?"
"I," Chanse took a deep breath in, "I want to go back to my room."
Madam Pomfrey opened the door all the way and stepped inside. "I'm sorry Chanse. I can't allow that."
"I thought you were going to say that," Chanse looked down at her sheets.
"I'm sorry Chanse."
"Me too."
Madam Pomfrey began to close the door again, "Madam Pomfrey." Chanse said again.
Madam Pomfrey looked back in and chuckled, "Yes Chanse?"
"You do know I'm going back to my room, right?" Chanse smirked.
"No you're not." Madam Pomfrey stepped back inside and put her hands on her hips. "I already told you Chanse: I can't allow that."
"I understand that Madam Pomfrey," Chanse nodded once, "But we both understand that I'm dying..." Chanse smirked, "I'm going back to my room."
Madam Pomfrey dropped her hands from her hips and sighed in defeat, "Alright." She whispered. "You may go back tomorrow."
Chanse smiled as she nodded, "Thank you."
"Goodnight Chanse." Madam Pomfrey whispered as she closed the door behind her.
"Goodnight Madam Pomfrey." Chanse whispered back as she turned her head to face Oliver.
'Since the morning,' Madam Pomfrey's words rang through Chanse's head as she stared at Oliver's sleeping face.
"Oliver," Chanse whispered, but Oliver didn't move. "Oliver," She whispered again with a slight shake this time. Once again, he didn't move. "Oliver," She said louder and shook him more.
"Practice is in five minutes everyone." Oliver mumbled.
'Quidditch,' Chanse smirked. "Hey. Oliver?" Chanse said louder and more forcefully.
Oliver's head shot up and he looked around, "Huh?! What?!" He looked around frantically.
"Hey, calm down." Chanse chuckled as she sat up and sat in front of Oliver.
"Oh, sorry," Oliver slightly blushed as he calmed down. "You're awake." He whispered.
"Yeah," Chanse whispered back.
"You alright?"
"For the most part, yes."
"And for the other part?" Oliver's brown eyes looked concerned.
"Oh the part where my health has decreased because I've remembered so much, and I'm only missing one section of my life left, and as soon as I remember that I die...that part?" Chanse chuckled.
Oliver's eyes went wide, "Um...yeah. That part."
"Alright I guess," she shrugged, "But there's one part that I still can't figure out."
Oliver stared over at Chanse. The moonlight shown down on Chanse's face and lit up every beautiful detail on her face. "What's that?" Oliver whispered.
"Why every time I wake up, you're there, and yet I can't remember you." Chanse sighed.
"I...I don't know." Oliver sighed in disappointment that she still didn't remember him.
She leaned forward to Oliver and wrapped her arms around his neck. She turned her head to the side and she whispered. "I'm sorry."
Oliver's breath disappeared when Chanse threw her arms around his neck. He slowly wrapped his strong arms around Chanse and whispered back. "For what?"
Chanse felt her eyes fill with tears as she spoke, "For not remembering you. Obviously before all this I meant a great deal to you, and I can't even remember if you meant anything to me." She took a quivering breath in, "It's hard waking up with the same guy by your bedside, holding your hand, and seeing his face but not having any idea if you honestly care about him."
"Shhh," Oliver whispered as he stroked Chanse hair with his hand as he held her close. "It's going to be alright."
Chanse pulled away from Oliver and looked at him, as tears were barely being held back. "How do you know? How do you know that I won't die before I remember you?"
"I don't."
Chanse blinked her eyes; sending the tears spilling onto her cheek. "Then why do you stay?"
Oliver lifted his hand up and slowly wiped away her tears with his thumb. "No matter what I will always be by your side."
Chanse closed her eye tighter and whispered. "Don't say that."
"Why not? It's true."
"Because I don't know you," Chanse opened her eyes to look at Oliver through her tears.
"No you know me," Oliver softly smiled, "You just don't remember me."
"What's the difference?" Chanse sounded as if there was none.
"You know me. We had a past and you just can't remember it."
"I want to remember it," Chanse whispered, as she looked down. "But I can't."
"But you know me. I know it, and so do you."
Chanse looked back up, "But I don't know what past I had with you. If you were my crush, my best friend, my boyfriend, my enemy, my potions partner...I can't remember." Chanse huffed.
"Does any of that matter?" Oliver whispered.
"Yes."
"Why?"
"I don't know," She cried harder, "I don't know."
"If you don't know, then why do you care?"
Chanse stared into Oliver's eyes, "Because if you're going to sit at my bedside every time I'm hurt, and hold my hand, I want to remember something about our past. I want to have a clue as to why you're here."
Oliver smiled, "You just need to know that I'll always be here. I'll always be at your bedside, and I'll always be holding your hand."
Chanse's shoulder slumped down, "Why can't you just tell me? Why can't you say what our past was together?"
Oliver sighed, "I'm not allowed to...and even if I could, I wouldn't."
"Why? Why would you keep me guessing?" Chanse huffed in disbelief.
"Because this is something you need to do on your own," Oliver whispered.
"I don't want to do it on my own," Chanse sighed, "I want someone to help me."
Oliver softly stroked Chanse's cheek, "Come on Chanse. Just go back to bed."
"I don't want to," she whispered.
Oliver slowly lowered Chanse down to her pillow. "Come on," he whispered, as he pulled the covers up on her.
"I don't want to," she whispered again.
"You'll feel better in the morning," Oliver sat back down in his chair.
Chanse looked at Oliver, from her pillow, "I don't want..." Chanse stopped in the middle of her sentence when Oliver took her hand in his. She looked up at Oliver with a tear-stained face. "Why do I have this life?" she whispered.
Oliver wiped away the last couple of tears on Chanse's face, "Because you'll rise to the challenge."
"I don't feel like I can or will, though."
"In time you will," Oliver laid his head down on the side of the bed. "You always did."
"But how do I know I'm the same Chanse before this curse?"
"Trust me," Oliver smiled, "you are. And you will rise to this challenge."
"But..."
Oliver placed his finger on Chanse's mouth, "Shhh. Go to bed." He whispered to her, before tucking a loose piece of hair behind her ear.
Chanse slightly nodded as she felt Oliver pull away his finger. She watched as he closed his eyes and started to drift back off to sleep. The moonlight reflected from the window onto Oliver's face. 'He looks like an angel.' Chanse thought with a smile.
She got more comfortable inside of her bed and looked back over at Oliver. 'Why can't you just tell me?' she thought as she slowly closed her eyes. 'Why can't you just help me? Give me a clue or something to help me remember?'
She opened her eyes again and looked out the window. The moon was almost full, not quite, but very close. It still was very bright and shown through the large hospital room window.
Chanse looked back at Oliver's sleeping body. She took a deep breath in and whispered, "Please help me out?"
She sighed as she slowly closed her eyes and fell asleep.
Chapter 33: Going Back
Chanse's eyes fluttered open as she felt the warmth of the early morning sun's ray spread over her. She looked around the room. 'How did I get here?' Chanse thought as she looked around some more and realized she was in the Hospital Wing. 'Last I remember Mary was talking with Tom, and...'
Chanse was about to jump out of the bed and sprint towards the Great Hall when something moved slightly by her side. She quietly looked over and saw a man with his head on her bed, sleeping. Chanse looked down to see he was holding her right hand. 'He must have been a good friend of mine.' Chanse thought with a smile.
She reached her left hand over and softly ran her fingers through his hair. When her fingers touched his hair the man turned his cheek.
"Oliver," Chanse whispered.
"Huh?" Oliver slowly lifted his head to Chanse, "You remember my name?" Oliver asked a little weary of the answer.
Chanse slowly shook her head no. "No. I don't. I've just learned that's your name." She whispered.
Oliver sighed as he nodded his head, "I thought as much." He said softly.
"I'm sorry." Chanse whispered as she looked down at her sheets.
"Hey," Oliver lifted Chanse's face up to face his face, "It's not your fault."
Chanse nodded, "Alright."
She softly smiled at Oliver, 'I wish I could remember him. He's been with me since this all started, and yet I still can't remember him.' Chanse thought sadly.
"Where's Cho?" Chanse whispered.
"Not trying to be mean, Chanse," Oliver chuckled, "but do you even remember Cho?"
Chanse smiled and looked up at Oliver, "Remember her? Of course," she laughed. "I remember that she was my best friend in Ravenclaw house, and then I got transferred to Gryffindor House. Then Cho and I had a rough time in our friendship, and we just recently started getting it back to it's normal level...all because I wanted to leave." She chuckled.
"What?" Oliver gasped, "You remember all that? No one told you that?"
Chanse shrugged with a smile, "No. It just sort of...came to me."
"I'm...going to get Madam Pomfrey," Oliver said a little distracted as he stood and slowly left.
"You alright Oliver?" Chanse looked at Oliver in confusion.
"Yeah," Oliver nodded a couple times, "I'm fine."
"Alright," Chanse shrugged as she watched him leave. 'What's wrong with him?' She thought as she crawled out of bed.
She stood up and walked over to the large window and stared out at everyone playing, 'Could it all have been a dream? Maybe I just bumped my head and can't remember recent events...or something.' Chanse thought as she stared out, over everyone.
"Miss Potter?" a voice asked from behind.
Chanse turned around to find Madam Pomfrey and Oliver standing by the door. "Hello Madam Pomfrey." Chanse smiled.
"You remember me?" Madam Pomfrey took a step forward.
"Of course," Chanse nodded as she turned away from the window.
Madam Pomfrey bustled over to Chanse. "You shouldn't be out off bed," Madam Pomfrey started to escort Chanse over to her bed.
"Madam Pomfrey," Chanse laughed, "I feel fine."
Madam Pomfrey stopped and looked over at Chanse, "With what you went through I think you should stay in bed, and I'm the nurse of this school..."
Chanse looked at Madam Pomfrey and interrupted her, "I went through? What'd I go through?" Chanse felt her heart sink.
"Chanse," Madam Pomfrey sighed as she looked down.
"What? What happened to me?!" Chanse shouted as she looked over at Oliver, who just looked away. "Somebody tell me...please?!"
Chanse's eye shot open as she saw a dark ceiling above her. She was panting and sweating, "It was just a dream." She whispered.
"What was a dream?" A voice asked.
Chanse turned her head to the left and saw Madam Pomfrey adjusting some knobs. "Nothing. I just had a bad dream." Chanse looked over at the left side of the bed.
"I see," Madam Pomfrey whispered. "How are you feeling?"
"Alright, I guess," Chanse felt like her chest was a little tight and she felt everything she did was hard.
"And you memory?"
"What about it?" Chanse looked up at Madam Pomfrey.
"How is it?" She sat down on the edge of the bed and began to wipe the sweat beads off Chanse's forehead. "Do you remember much?"
Chanse nodded, "Yes. I remember everything," she said as if she wasn't truly speaking.
Madam Pomfrey nodded, "I thought so."
Chanse snapped out of her daze, "What do you mean?"
"Your health has deceased extremely," Madam Pomfrey whispered as she looked away from Chanse.
"I don't remember things from the end of last year." Chanse said as if it was some consolation prize for remembering everything.
"And that's why you're not dead," Madam Pomfrey said just above a whisper.
"Dead?" Chanse gasped. "So it's true. I really am dying..." Her voice trailed off as she slowly closed her eyes and turned away from Madam Pomfrey.
Madam Pomfrey didn't say anything. She didn't need to. The silence was all Chanse needed and wanted to hear. That's what told her it was true.
She opened her eyes and saw Oliver asleep in a chair, with his head on the bed and his hand holding Chanse's right hand. 'Just like my dream.' Chanse thought. "How long has Oliver been here?" Chanse whispered as she looked back over at Madam Pomfrey.
"Since this morning," Madam Pomfrey nodded as she adjusted a few more things.
Chanse stared at Oliver's features; short brown hair, burly, and a nice tan. She looked over at his hand, which, even though he was sleeping, was still holding a strong, but soft, grip on Chanse's hand.
"Do you remember him?" Madam Pomfrey whispered as she started to straighten up the room.
"Oliver?" Chanse asked and saw Madam Pomfrey nod. "Not really. I barely remember him. I remember everyone else more then I remember him."
Madam Pomfrey stopped and walked back over to Chanse, "What else do you remember?" She asked as she sat back down.
"I don't really remember everyone, as much as I remember more what I've gone through with them."
"Isn't that what a memory is? Time spent with others?"
"Yes, but you need to know those people to have a memory." Chanse sighed.
"Chanse," Madam Pomfrey placed her hand on Chanse's knee, "I think you're just wanting to remember every single detail about every single person, and you can't do that."
"Why not?" Chanse gasped, "What can't I?"
"Chanse you say you understand you're going to die, but sometimes I think you forget that."
"I just want my memory back, Madam Pomfrey," Chanse sighed. "I understand I'm going to die. I just feel that I need my memory before I do. Like if I try to remember quicker I'll have more time with everyone."
"Chanse that's not how this works."
"I know." Chanse huffed.
"Chanse," Madam Pomfrey said calmly. "There's no point in rushing this...It's actually better if you don't rush this."
"Madam Pomfrey, you and I both know that I'm going to die no matter what," Chanse felt a strange calmness run over her body. "So what does it matter if it's tonight, or tomorrow, or a week from now, or a month? Why does THAT matter?"
Madam Pomfrey stood up and smoothed out Chanse's sheets, "Because you graduate in two days." Madam Pomfrey started towards the door.
"I...I graduate?" Chanse gasped.
"Yes. You become a full-fledge witch," Madam Pomfrey opened the door, "and that's something to wait for...Don't you think so?"
Chanse looked down at her sheets, "A witch," she gasped. 'I'm becoming a true witch in two days.' She thought. "Yes," she whispered.
"Now get some sleep Chanse," Madam Pomfrey smiled, "You need to get your strength back from graduation."
Chanse watched as Madam Pomfrey started to close the door, "Madam Pomfrey." Chanse said loudly.
Madam Pomfrey opened the door again and stuck her head in, "Yes Chanse?"
"I," Chanse took a deep breath in, "I want to go back to my room."
Madam Pomfrey opened the door all the way and stepped inside. "I'm sorry Chanse. I can't allow that."
"I thought you were going to say that," Chanse looked down at her sheets.
"I'm sorry Chanse."
"Me too."
Madam Pomfrey began to close the door again, "Madam Pomfrey." Chanse said again.
Madam Pomfrey looked back in and chuckled, "Yes Chanse?"
"You do know I'm going back to my room, right?" Chanse smirked.
"No you're not." Madam Pomfrey stepped back inside and put her hands on her hips. "I already told you Chanse: I can't allow that."
"I understand that Madam Pomfrey," Chanse nodded once, "But we both understand that I'm dying..." Chanse smirked, "I'm going back to my room."
Madam Pomfrey dropped her hands from her hips and sighed in defeat, "Alright." She whispered. "You may go back tomorrow."
Chanse smiled as she nodded, "Thank you."
"Goodnight Chanse." Madam Pomfrey whispered as she closed the door behind her.
"Goodnight Madam Pomfrey." Chanse whispered back as she turned her head to face Oliver.
'Since the morning,' Madam Pomfrey's words rang through Chanse's head as she stared at Oliver's sleeping face.
"Oliver," Chanse whispered, but Oliver didn't move. "Oliver," She whispered again with a slight shake this time. Once again, he didn't move. "Oliver," She said louder and shook him more.
"Practice is in five minutes everyone." Oliver mumbled.
'Quidditch,' Chanse smirked. "Hey. Oliver?" Chanse said louder and more forcefully.
Oliver's head shot up and he looked around, "Huh?! What?!" He looked around frantically.
"Hey, calm down." Chanse chuckled as she sat up and sat in front of Oliver.
"Oh, sorry," Oliver slightly blushed as he calmed down. "You're awake." He whispered.
"Yeah," Chanse whispered back.
"You alright?"
"For the most part, yes."
"And for the other part?" Oliver's brown eyes looked concerned.
"Oh the part where my health has decreased because I've remembered so much, and I'm only missing one section of my life left, and as soon as I remember that I die...that part?" Chanse chuckled.
Oliver's eyes went wide, "Um...yeah. That part."
"Alright I guess," she shrugged, "But there's one part that I still can't figure out."
Oliver stared over at Chanse. The moonlight shown down on Chanse's face and lit up every beautiful detail on her face. "What's that?" Oliver whispered.
"Why every time I wake up, you're there, and yet I can't remember you." Chanse sighed.
"I...I don't know." Oliver sighed in disappointment that she still didn't remember him.
She leaned forward to Oliver and wrapped her arms around his neck. She turned her head to the side and she whispered. "I'm sorry."
Oliver's breath disappeared when Chanse threw her arms around his neck. He slowly wrapped his strong arms around Chanse and whispered back. "For what?"
Chanse felt her eyes fill with tears as she spoke, "For not remembering you. Obviously before all this I meant a great deal to you, and I can't even remember if you meant anything to me." She took a quivering breath in, "It's hard waking up with the same guy by your bedside, holding your hand, and seeing his face but not having any idea if you honestly care about him."
"Shhh," Oliver whispered as he stroked Chanse hair with his hand as he held her close. "It's going to be alright."
Chanse pulled away from Oliver and looked at him, as tears were barely being held back. "How do you know? How do you know that I won't die before I remember you?"
"I don't."
Chanse blinked her eyes; sending the tears spilling onto her cheek. "Then why do you stay?"
Oliver lifted his hand up and slowly wiped away her tears with his thumb. "No matter what I will always be by your side."
Chanse closed her eye tighter and whispered. "Don't say that."
"Why not? It's true."
"Because I don't know you," Chanse opened her eyes to look at Oliver through her tears.
"No you know me," Oliver softly smiled, "You just don't remember me."
"What's the difference?" Chanse sounded as if there was none.
"You know me. We had a past and you just can't remember it."
"I want to remember it," Chanse whispered, as she looked down. "But I can't."
"But you know me. I know it, and so do you."
Chanse looked back up, "But I don't know what past I had with you. If you were my crush, my best friend, my boyfriend, my enemy, my potions partner...I can't remember." Chanse huffed.
"Does any of that matter?" Oliver whispered.
"Yes."
"Why?"
"I don't know," She cried harder, "I don't know."
"If you don't know, then why do you care?"
Chanse stared into Oliver's eyes, "Because if you're going to sit at my bedside every time I'm hurt, and hold my hand, I want to remember something about our past. I want to have a clue as to why you're here."
Oliver smiled, "You just need to know that I'll always be here. I'll always be at your bedside, and I'll always be holding your hand."
Chanse's shoulder slumped down, "Why can't you just tell me? Why can't you say what our past was together?"
Oliver sighed, "I'm not allowed to...and even if I could, I wouldn't."
"Why? Why would you keep me guessing?" Chanse huffed in disbelief.
"Because this is something you need to do on your own," Oliver whispered.
"I don't want to do it on my own," Chanse sighed, "I want someone to help me."
Oliver softly stroked Chanse's cheek, "Come on Chanse. Just go back to bed."
"I don't want to," she whispered.
Oliver slowly lowered Chanse down to her pillow. "Come on," he whispered, as he pulled the covers up on her.
"I don't want to," she whispered again.
"You'll feel better in the morning," Oliver sat back down in his chair.
Chanse looked at Oliver, from her pillow, "I don't want..." Chanse stopped in the middle of her sentence when Oliver took her hand in his. She looked up at Oliver with a tear-stained face. "Why do I have this life?" she whispered.
Oliver wiped away the last couple of tears on Chanse's face, "Because you'll rise to the challenge."
"I don't feel like I can or will, though."
"In time you will," Oliver laid his head down on the side of the bed. "You always did."
"But how do I know I'm the same Chanse before this curse?"
"Trust me," Oliver smiled, "you are. And you will rise to this challenge."
"But..."
Oliver placed his finger on Chanse's mouth, "Shhh. Go to bed." He whispered to her, before tucking a loose piece of hair behind her ear.
Chanse slightly nodded as she felt Oliver pull away his finger. She watched as he closed his eyes and started to drift back off to sleep. The moonlight reflected from the window onto Oliver's face. 'He looks like an angel.' Chanse thought with a smile.
She got more comfortable inside of her bed and looked back over at Oliver. 'Why can't you just tell me?' she thought as she slowly closed her eyes. 'Why can't you just help me? Give me a clue or something to help me remember?'
She opened her eyes again and looked out the window. The moon was almost full, not quite, but very close. It still was very bright and shown through the large hospital room window.
Chanse looked back at Oliver's sleeping body. She took a deep breath in and whispered, "Please help me out?"
She sighed as she slowly closed her eyes and fell asleep.