Memories are our greatest link to the past. They are what we create in the present, and they can guide us in the future. Memories can define us.
Adam Fletcher has none.
A crippling car accident has pressed reset on Adam’s life, leaving the young man broken and lost. Britney, the woman who claims to be his best friend, tries to bring him back to society while hiding the truth about her involvement in the crash.
Starting from scratch, Adam tries to make new memories. But, what use are memories if they are constructed from lies?
Reaching for a memory, he found a throbbing. He tried to move but pain shot through his body, forcing him to stop. Blinding whiteness from the surrounds stung at his fragile eyes as low murmurs found his ears.
A faint voice called, “Adam?” He struggled to put a name and face to the voice, trying to climb a slide with the water rushing downwards. A warm hand held his fingers.
“It’s okay, don’t worry! Can you open your eyes?” said the gentle voice. He opened his eyes fully, adjusting to the irritation. “How are you feeling?” The man turned towards the woman next to his bed and saw a homely smile on her face. His vision cleared enough to show the woman’s uniform. “Adam? Are you okay?”
Facing the nurse, he asked, “Why do you keep calling me Adam?”
Her eyes were too sore to cry anymore. She had never cried so much, her body knew that, her memories knew that. Worry circulated like a poison in her blood—Britney needed to know how Adam was, no other way to wash out the toxin. Britney sat in the long hospital corridor and stroked the petals of her gift: lifeless sunflowers, gathered in a hurry. She watched her trembling hands fail to hide a growing fear. A dull scent drifted up from the flowers, asking Britney what she meant to accomplish with such a trivial gift. Passing trolleys with Boston’s newest accident and emergency guests did little to take Britney’s mind from him.
Adam’s father stepped out into the hallway from a ward and his gaze found Britney. She turned towards him, waiting for an expression to let her know Adam was fine. A relieved smile crept onto his face, feeling like a surge of painkillers flowing through Britney. She glanced upwards quickly and then stepped towards Adam’s father. His embrace let Britney relax, but only for the slightest moment, as reality doubled back and snapped Britney out of her false security.
“Adam is awake,” Adam’s father whispered. His eyes danced awkwardly when Britney leaned away from his embrace.
“What are you not telling me?” she asked, searching his face for answers, a now familiar pang of worry pulsing through her body again.
“He can’t remember.”
“Amnesia?” Britney asked, shaking her head.
“He doesn’t even remember us.” Adam’s father leaned closer and hugged her gently. Unsure of how to act, Britney let her arms tighten around him.
“Can I see him?”
Eamonn Hickson is an Irish author. He released his first novel, The History Maker, in December 2012.
He has undertaken a number of creative writing, and writing for print courses recently.
His second novel, Angel of Death, was released in December 2013.
1 winner will receive a finished copy of THE HISTORY MAKER, International.