Frozen Memories

Wilhelmina

`“Ne-Sen nesin-nerede-” the stumbling of my words, was incoherent. Why? Why? What am I saying? My mind was completely stressing at the fact that my thoughts were not connecting with the words coming from my lips. Or maybe they were but apparently, not in the way that these people could understand.

    “Shh-it’s alright.” The girl said to me. “I’ll go get the doctor.” It's only then that I faintly realize that I am not alone. That I am being watched.

    Doctor? A doctor; my eyes closed slightly. When the girl left, the word ran through my mind repeatedly. “Healer.” I hear myself faintly say. A word that I for once understand, coming from my own mouth. So the young woman must be some sort of helper in assisting others back to health, however oddly clothed she was. Still, even that does not settle me-as the last time she went to get someone, a swarm of others rushed in. I looked down at my restrained body, feeling nothing but dread.

    I cautiously attempted to lift my hands as high as I could manage, the youth of them focusing into vision. The paleness of my light brown hands was an odd faded color and painfully malnourished along with the rest of my body.

    I tried to remember what happened to me but failed in every way, yet succeeding in causing a migraine. What happened before this moment? And why could I not remember? Anything? Not even a name-my own name.

    An unwilling whimper escaped me when the door suddenly opened again. I shook myself free of the oncoming cry threatening to release when I saw the young woman re-entering the room, with another, seeming only a little more mature in age than she. And that doctor-the man...with those glow like eyes.

    I watched them all carefully as they entered the room, the whole time that man’s voice playing back in my mind; 'Şimdi güvendesin'- ‘you are safe now.' Somehow, I believed him but my body was still guarded. I was still shaken and insecure.

“I don’t think I can ever get used to those eyes.” I heard the girl attempt to whisper when my eyes shot over her way. She seemed to flinch and smile with what looked to be a hint of shame.

    I shifted immediately, attempting to break free of these straps around my wrists and ankles, when the female doctor rushesd to me, calmly placing her hand to the side of my bedding. All the while, the male doctor staring at me-watching me as if to survey my every movement.

“Calm down, sweetie! Calm down. We’re not going to hurt you! We’re here to help.” The woman tried to placate.

    “Why-” I paused, my brain almost stopping itself to adjust itself to her language-something that I had never been calm enough to do before. “am I-here?”     

    “Because you needed help.” She simply answered me. “You needed to be healed.”

    An unknown discomfort began taking over me. For the first time since consciousness, I was settled long enough to realize that I was not comfortable in my own body. I looked down observing what I could see of myself, which was not much, considering I am heavily covered.

    “What-is-this place?” I ask in a voice considerably different than theirs, but no one answered and suddenly I turn to see them all staring at me. “Who...are you?” I shakily ask, noticing, that my voice, in its throaty form is just as strange as everything else to me.

    “You’re at UW Medical Center, dear.” The male doctor finally says, calmly and yet stoic. “In-the psychiatric ward.”

    “What?” Even in the simplicity of her words, I could not register them.

    “You’re at a hospital.” The female doctor further attempted to clarify.

    A hospital? The word is vague and yet familiar to me. Healing comes to mind when I think of the word but-how do I even know this? So lost in my own thoughts, I cannot find the words to counter this conversation.   

    “Sweetie, do you...know your name?” The female doctor reluctantly asked.

    Aghast still at my surroundings and the newfound realization of my own being, I did not have the capacity to answer verbally. Mentally either. I finally shook my head, no. No, I do not know who I am, let alone precisely where I am.

    My eyes, still not completely adjusted, started shifting endlessly around the room. When I attempted to pull my emaciated legs to my chest, they stiffened, remembering that my body was no longer under my control with both legs and arms strapped down to the bedding.

    “Do you remember how you got here? How you ended up in the water?”

    “Wa-water? I don’t-” I could not form my words precise enough to give an intelligent answer.

    “Your body was found floating along the waters, off the coast. You were rescued by the Coast guard.” The male doctor finally said. It was as if he meant to be the one to bear the bad news.

    The harshness of the information sent my mind buzzing in confusion and pain. Who could have disdained me so much? What could I have done for someone to throw me away as if I were no more than a piece of waste? It was such a callous thing to have to bear in mind.

    I assumed that this healer was suddenly aware of how much this information upset my mood by the expression I noticed on her petite features. Though, the male healer still seemed to be studying me with his eyes.

    “What is it? What’s the matter?” The man with the ember eyes asked.

    I looked at him with alarm and then the female doctor, wondering what was the matter myself. What startled her so?

    As if realizing that my eyes were on her, she quickly recovered her expression and smiled. “It’s nothing, Dr. Grey.” She finally returned.

    With her odd reaction, I returned my stare to the man, realizing that this must have been his surname; Dr. Grey-it fit him well.

    “My name is Dr. Byrne and this is Lisa Jones.” She further introduced. I looked at the girl standing there. I don’t know what to say and just nod in recognition of her presence. I wanted to smile but given my circumstance, I didn’t have it in me to do so. “She will be your nursing aid.” Dr. Byrne informed me, as if I should know what that meant. “Honey, your skin is still so cold.” She suddenly said before I could even think about inquiring further on her information.

    “Iyi hissediyorum,” I muttered, it seeming that only I could feel that of what I assumed a normal temperature.

   “I’m sorry?” I suddenly hear her say. 

    I turned around, facing her, confused when she says such a random comment. What is she sorry for?

    “I’m sorry, I don’t know what that means.” This, Dr. Byrne finally clarifies.

    Memory, then resurfaced to the fact that my mind would sometimes run away with dialects that only I could apparently understand. I and-I glanced curiously at this Dr. Grey before averting my gaze and rebooting my mind to their language of words again.

    “I am fine,” I said, eyeing the doctor. She simply nodded, though it is clear that she had her doubts. However, I paid that no mind, looking away from her again.

    I surveyed the room, taking in my surroundings. All of the time I’d been an occupant here, the only thing I took notice of were the floors and the white walls. Everything else was sent to the back of my mind in regards to my wanting to escape.

    “Was that what you were speaking earlier?” she inquired without warning.

    I looked at her again and shrugged. “I do not understand,” I said and turned away again.

    “Earlier, before you were sedated, Dr. Grey said that he heard you mumbling something. But that he couldn’t understand it; was that the language you were speaking?”

    I watched this man now. He didn’t understand and yet he spoke like words to me. And so clearly as if he had been speaking them his whole life, which I no doubt feel that he probably had. Why did he not tell them his truth? He watched me, still, not saying a word...not even seeming anxious that I would tell his truth. 

    Apparently, he had something to hide-but this was not my truth to tell, and  his demeanor almost exuded that he knew that I felt this way. I was suddenly mixed with unease. Who was this man?

    Deciding, that staring too long would give way to suspicion, I sighed, and looked away. I had far too many things to worry about concerning my own well-being than to worry about this mysterious Dr. Grey.

    I turned my attention to Dr. Byrne again, another thing she said ringing in my mind. “What is a sedated?” I asked. I did not like the word, it seemed familiar and not in a good way.

    “Sedated?” The doctor’s hesitance was quite noticeable. “It...it's a form of treatment that calms you down."

    Her words are vague, allowing me to premise that there is more than likely a more problematic definition to the word. Otherwise, I could still see that she was being truthful. “If I am calm, then why are I-restrained?” I asked hesitantly.

    “Because we don’t want you to hurt yourself.” Dr. Byrne simply answered.

    “But I do not mean myself nor anyone here harm,” I attempted to assur her. “I am lost, and I want to know what is going on!” I expressed desperately. I looked at her and then this Dr. Grey. I needed them to know that as long as they would mean me no harm, I meant none in return. Outside of the random show of strength I had shown against one or two people, I doubt that I even had the real strength to hurt anyone in the first place. Especially, this Dr. Grey.

   I was surprised when Dr. Grey finally approached me, removing the restraints from my arms and legs. I gasped, taking in the reddish-purple bruises on my wrists. Initially, I thought it was the restraints but I realized that they weren’t tight enough to cause such damage. Not to mention the fact that the size of the ligature marks was not equal in size. I touch my wrists, starting to gently rub them so as to ease the soreness when I realize that there is no feeling there at all.

    It wasn’t until I heard the odd sound of something rolling across the floor did I look up again. It was the doctor whose surname was Grey, who brought a seat that seemed to carry wheels underneath near me.

    “You don’t remember anything do you?” He asked me, his gaze penetrating.

    Rubbing the stiffness from my small shaking wrists, I shook my head. “I do not know any-anything.”

    “What about the languages that you speak? What about them?” He asked.

    My mind exhausted, I looked past his unnerving gaze and to the window, secretly wishing that I had the ability to escape and yet knowing I’d have nowhere to go even if I did. I shrugged my shoulders, finally answering his question.

    “I do not know.” Answering these questions, I thought more on it and turned my attention back to Dr. Grey, shifting between him and Dr. Byrne. “It is just a language-I do not know how many there are-or what they are,” I confessed. “It comes and goes. I-I can speak it but my mind-I cannot explain.”

    I could see that this Dr. Byrne and her nursing aid were lost in translation but I, in truth, did not know how to explain the situation further.

    “So there’s more than one language that you can speak.” She asked.

    I did not know whether this was a question or statement and simply shrugged in response, not knowing what to say to her.

    “Is there?” She asked again, gently.

    “I have this feeling, yes.” I said.

    “So you can speak different languages but you don’t know what the languages are.” Dr. Byrne said.

      I nodded. "They come in jumbles but...I don't..." It was hard to explain how my brain was working at this point. “I-it takes-a while but-sometimes little things come to mind,” I said. I was sure, if I thought hard enough, I’d know what dialect I spoke but I was entirely too afraid of overexerting my brain again. 

    “Well, do you know what language it is that you are speaking now?”

    Closing my eyes, attempting to sift through thoughts, my head began in pain when I finally remembered. “Turkish.”

    “No, sweetie.” The doctor said in disappointment. “We-”

    “Turkish is the language I spoke. I was…..asking for help." Or at least that was what I was trying to say. I turned to her. “When your people took me from consciousness.” I looked at Dr. Grey. “Before you calmed me.” Still, I could not help wondering how this stranger managed to do such a thing. I quickly looked away from him. “Then Greek-and Turkish, when I awoke,” I said thinking further.

    “Okay, okay. That’s good! That’s good.” This Dr. Byrne said. “Do you remember anything else?” she asked me.

    Closing my eyes once more, I struggled for anything to come to mind. “No.” I finally answered. I could not remember anything else. At least nothing that had a reasonable amount of significance.

    “That’s okay. We can work on it.” The Dr. Byrne replied cordially.

    My mind, still so befuddled, absorbed her words with delay as I sorted through the things that I had already gained knowledge of. Then my attention fell back on her.

    “Where did this-where was I taken?” I asked her.

    “If you're asking where you are now? You are in Seattle, Washington.”

    The answer did not register with me. I tried hard to remember what this Seattle, Washington was in the first place. Nevertheless, I didn’t have the mental capacity to overthink it too long before I realized a more important question.

    “What...era is this?” I asked.

    “You mean the year?” the nursing aid questioned. For a moment, I forgot that she was even present.

    I nodded before asking. “Who are you called again?”

    “Um, Lisa-Jones.” She answered awkwardly. “The year is-2018.”

    “2018...two thousand….eighteen hundred?” No! Such a thought….I could not fathom remembering anything of this year; nor that of any year before! But this year...the year that she was trying to convince me was present….was far from my expectations! So much so, that I-it was hard to take in such a ridiculous answer. “Are you sure?”  Not having one memory of anything before waking up, however, this year-2018-it was impossible.

    “Yes.” Dr. Grey said. He seemed to watch me closely before speaking again. “Why do you ask?”

    I looked away, unable to wrap my head around what was being said to me. “Ho-how old am I?”

    “Well to be honest, honey, we are not entirely sure.” Dr. Byrne said to me. “We were hoping that once you were calm enough that you would be able to present us with this information but well it doesn’t seem likely.” She said that last part with a mumble.

    Words broke down in my mind at the mere thought. I never even attempted since becoming cognizant, to figure out my age until now. And even still I felt at a loss; I had no ideas whatsoever. Shaking my head in hopes that it would jog up memories only caused my head to pang slightly. Tears escaped from my eyes. “I do not know.”

    “If I had to guess based off of appearance alone-” Dr. Grey said to me. “I’d give you around sixteen or seventeen years.”

    “Sixteen or Seventeen? Such a young age.” My incredulous remark was evident as I found myself demanding that to be impossible, considering I had no recollection of this year.

    In no way was I familiar with anything releasing to such a time as the years of the 2000s let alone 2017. I was not even sure that I could acknowledge the early 1900’s. The notion in itself was very nonsensical, to say the least. However, I had to consider the fact that I could not necessarily dispute otherwise. Still, though, my mind didn not hold any familiarity or comfort in the answer that I was given.

    “What year is it that your mind adjusts to, miss Frost?” Dr. Grey asked me.

    I sighed, starting to answer when-he referred to me a name. “You know my name?” I asked. “Is that my name-is Frost my name?” I asked with renewed hope.

   “That is our assumption, yes-at least as far as surnames are concerned.” Dr. Byrne said.

    Surname? If that is assumed to be my surname, I could only presume to think that maybe they found a first. Or at least it was a hope.

    “And what of my given name?” When I asked this, the healer, Dr. Byrne was reluctant in answering this time around.

    “Have you seen the scarring on your arm, Miss Frost?” Dr. Grey asked me. I looked at him.

    With so much going on, the thought of my arm had slipped my mind but now that the healer was inquiring of it, I was interested again.

    “Yes,” I answered, not looking at it right away.

    “Can you read the wording on it?” He asked.

    I did not know whether this was a request or whether he was asking if I was literate enough to do it. I lifted my right arm and actually took the time to take it in and read the words scarred into my forearm.

    “Wil-hel-min-a.” I sounded out. “Wilhelmina.”

    I stared at the ugly scarring that spoke of such a beautiful name-my name. It resonated in my mind like a powerful force attempting to break a barrier that somehow connected to my past.

   Looking at the name scratched across my arm, imagining the pain that must have been experienced during this procedure, I hadn’t realized that I was crying until a lone tear fell on the arm that I was staring at.

    “This-this is how you found my given name,” I muttered, barely audible. I sniffled, looking at my left arm, assuming that there would be another clue to my surname but there wasn’t. “How did you find my surname?” I asked, finally looking between the three in the room staring at me.

    “There-well there was another engraving.” The lady doctor said. “We only assume that it is your surname because there is no other reason that we could deduce." I looked at the man that sat next to me, staring at me. He didn’t say anything but something in me knew that he probably felt that there was more to it.

    “Where did...you find it?” I asked reluctantly. Seeing the markings on my arms made me a little frightened to know where the other engraving was.

    “On the nape.” Dr. Grey said.  “Of your neck.” He finished.

    “Both solidified with an unknown substance that seems near related to iron.”

    I hesitantly lifted my hand to touch the back of my neck. It was then that I realized how truly weak and malnourished my body was. I paused to gather what little strength I could muster before gently laying my hand to the nape of my neck.

    A gasp escaped me, my hands trembling in weakness and a mix of negative emotions as I felt the fanciful thick engraving written there, a slight sting to the tips of my fingers at the smallest touch. Someone had taken great care in branding me...twice. But why? What had I done to deserve this?

    “Mani-” I stuttered. “Yihini le’inē yaderegelinyi?” The words were slipping from my lips in anxiety, anger, and sadness before I could take the time to even translate them to English.