Frozen Memories

Fear Of Facing Tomorrow

A full month had come and gone while I stayed at the hospital. And as I was, of course, not completely conformed to the ways of this era, they began to grow on me.

I hadn’t really seen much of the mysterious Dr. Grey since that day he came into my room with Dr. Byrne and nurse Lisa. While the thought of the man would linger from time to time, I had way more pressing things on my mind.

Thanks to Dr. Byrne and more importantly the Nurse Lisa Jones, who taught me ways of this day and age’s youth and how to react around them; or more significantly how not to act.

It seemed that the youth of this generation was quite-vainglorious. Or at least that was how the current state of things seemed, even in considering the fact that I had no contact with the outside world. I was only judging this based on Lisa Jones’ stories of the youth outside of this healing establishment. And while the Nurse Lisa Jones was youthful, she was obviously not one of the self-righteous adolescents that she informed me of.

I steadily familiarized myself with all the new things that Dr. Byrne and Nurse Lisa Jones revealed to me. Out of all of the wondrous things I had come to learn, I’d like to think that my favorite was the extended and most enjoyable flavors of bubble gum. At least a part from chocolate. Fortunately, Nurse Lisa Jones and Dr. Byrne made certain that I was in good supply of both.

Standing from my bed, I headed into the bathroom. I was quite thankful to be comfortable and knowledgeable enough to avoid the small ‘birdie baths’ once given to me. I’d come a long way from the time where it was assumed that I was not intelligent enough to clean my own self. I started the shower, placing the water as hot as I could muster, which was usually on the highest notch, before I disrobed and enter.

I decided, this time to wash my beautiful braid that Lisa Jones fixed within my hair a few days prior to this. It was long, thick and very beautiful, the strands of hair that twined within one another to form seeming perfection. Realizing this only made it harder to ruin.

Beginning to wash it, a tinge of heartbreak took over in seeing the braid become messy and disheveled. However, I knew that in continuing to use that dry shampoo, my hair would only become even more gummy and flaky than before. When I felt the returning softness of my hair, however, I didn’t mind so much about ruining my hair.

Eventually. After my fingers began to prune, I grabbed the washing cloth and soap to refresh my skin. When I finally exited the shower, I could not help but pause at the picture lively staring at me through the mirror. It never ceased to surprise me to see such a face, as it was unnervingly difficult, still, to realize that the person staring back at me was-me. Shaking from my mind boggling thought, I turned and left, temporarily leaving the scars of an unknown past in that bathroom mirror.

On the chair next to my bed, I grabbed a pair of unusually designed and very large lounging bottoms that Lisa called ‘sweatpants and a t-shirt that she’d also given me. After placing them on, I made my way over to the window of my room, looking out into the beauty of the outside world. However in watching it all, it became unsettling to realize that I would eventually have to be a part of that world. Realization set in that my days here were numbered.

Nevertheless, in spite of that unsettling fact, I still thought of the positive news. One, being that in the small allotted amount of time that I had been conscious, I more than made up for my lack of nutrition and food. Dr. Byrne informed me constantly of my steady weight gain. The chipper mood that she had when delivering such news led me to assume that it was a good thing.

With each passing day there seemed to be positive news of my health, however, there apparently, did seem to be complications at times, with needles. For some odd reason, I had dangerously uncontrolled convulsions and would often seize up. And when asked about why I may have such problems I could not tell them the truth because I didn’t know.

With each passing day there seemed to be positive news of my health, however, there apparently, did seem to be complications at times, with needles. For some odd reason, I had dangerously uncontrolled convulsions and would often seize up. And when asked about why I may have such problems I could not tell them the truth because I didn’t know.

Still, too, despite the good reports of my well-being, the temperature in my room had apparently began to change to a level that while I did not seem to notice, they had. According to Dr. Byrne and Nurse Lisa Jones, my skin still held the chilling feel of hypothermia. I feared that this supposed hypothermia even held an effect on the temperature in my room. I only felt this way because I noticed Dr. Byrne and even Lisa Jones began entering my room with thick layers of clothing.

So deep in my little thoughts, the door opening escaped my attention until I heard that familiar and feminine voice.

“See you’re getting the hang of things around here.”

I turned around with a smile. “Hello Nurse Lisa Jones.”   

She chuckled at what I knew she considered to be my odd courtesy. She once told me this and even attempted to ‘correct’ me on the matter every now and again. Still, it seemed hard to break such a habit, even considering how new it was.

    “I told you-call me Lisa.” She placed the tray down atop my bed, knowing by now that there was eventually where it would end up.

I rushed to sit down on the bed in front of the goodies and what I hoped to be among them, my favorite snack of late; chocolate pudding. I snatched the top away and happiness took over as I saw the pudding on the tray. “Lovely.” I found myself mumbling, ripping the top off to dig in.

“Messed your braid up, I see. Nurse Lisa said.

I paused in my eating to glance her way sheepishly. I expected a frustrated expression when I looked at her; but all I saw was a smirk on her face.  “I apologize! My hair was-it was just starting to feel very-”

“Gummy-I know. It’s okay; I understand.” Lisa Jones said reassuringly. “So how’s it going?”

Curiously, I looked at her. “How-is what going?” 

“Life.” Nurse Lisa replied with a chuckle. “In other words-how are you feeling?”

After clarifying her question I dropped my spoon on my plate and shrugged. “Life is- as blank as the day I arrived, unfortunately. But-I am feeling better than previous days.” I added, taking another spoonful of pudding before I turned my gaze to her. “How are you feeling, Lisa?” I, in turn asked.

“Good, thanks for asking.” She smiled, as she sat on the bed next to me and started to correct my braid. “I talked to the janitor guy and he says that your thermostat is working perfectly. I guess there’s a breeze coming from somewhere in this room.”

I shrugged away the bit of information. “The cold does not bother me.” I assured. Sometimes, as odd as the thought happened to be, I feared that this strange chill was my doing in the first place. It wasn’t completely unbelievable when considering all of the abnormal things about me so far. The thought caused me further self-questioning when I found that my room was the only one brimming with this cold according to Dr. Byrne and Nurse Lisa Jones. It also granted me pause to find that this chill did not start until I made my appearance to this place. 

From the corner of my eye, I notice Lisa Jones shake her head with an awestruck expression on her face.

“What did they do to you?” I hear her whisper.

My eyes shift quickly at her in acknowledgement of her words. She flinched; something I noticed early on that she would do quite often when I looked her way without warning. It was almost as if I had to caution her that I was going to make eye contact before I did so that she would not startle.

“I’m so sorry, Wilhelmina-I didn’t mean to offend you-that was very insensitive.”

I considered her words for only a brief moment before I shrugged them off and chuckled lightly at her comment. “No worries.” I said placing my empty carton of chocolate milk next to my tray. “I ask myself that question every single time I awaken to a new day.” 

I grabbed my tray of foods and started to eat the beef stew and bread, sided with greens and rice. So busy with my meal, I did not realize at first that Lisa Jones was still staring at me. I suddenly slow my pace and acknowledge her gaze.

    “Is there something else the matter?” I asked.

Her cheerful nature had long since faded, answering my question. I decided not to say anything and instead wait for her to gather her thoughts so that she could speak. 

“They are coming to take you tomorrow.”

Her words caused my heart to drop. Yes, I knew from the start that my days here at this place were going to come to an end. Nothing good ever lasted but for so long. Nevertheless, the rush of such news still unsettled me.

    I swallowed the large lump in my throat before I replied. “Who are ‘they’?”

    “The authorities.” 

“Authorities? People in high command.” I said, affirming for myself more so her. She nodded a yes. “Hm-” I turned away momentarily, looking down at the old wounds on the arms of my skin, before I asked another question. “What will they do to me there?”

    “Nothing, Mina.” she answered quickly. “They won’t do anything to you.

They know that you have no memory of your past and they’ve come to the conclusion that talking to you as of now wouldn’t really benefit their investigation.”

Her words made sense, I guess. But I still had more questions. "Will I live there forever?” I further inquired.

    Lisa Jones shakes her head no. “You won’t be living there at all.”

    “Then-where will I go?” 

Lisa Jones sighed at my question. “Wilhelmina, your age-while is undetermined- well it’s still impossible for you to be any older than a teenager.” 

Moving my head from side to side, I hunch my shoulders. “And that means-”

“That means that because you are alone-because you-have no parents to look after you; and because you’ve been faring and progressing so well with your surroundings, they have decided to take you to a group home.

“That means that because you are alone-because you-have no parents to look after you; and because you’ve been faring and progressing so well with your surroundings, they have decided to take you to a group home.”

I took in a deep shaky breath of anxiety. This news was quite bothersome. Nevertheless, I didn’t complain and instead tried to adjust myself a little more comfortably with ensuing terms. “A group home-” I say to myself. “What is that?” I asked her.

Lisa shook her head. “It’s, sort of an orphanage for older kids. It’s a place where young adolescent girls stay that don’t have a home or a family to turn to.”

“Like me.” I mumbled in realization. I looked up in time to see her nod in agreement. Then I turned away from her again, looking at the scarred writing on my arm, feeling the tension of the engraving on the back of my neck. “Do they torture there?” I ask, my eyes, I feel, hardening in preparation for her answer.

“What?! Of course not! I mean you may run into girls that are a little less nice than others-” Lisa Jones said and then paused. “Why would you think that?”

I dropped my shoulders, loosening up a bit. “Well-you look…sad.” I replied with an empathetic smile.

Lisa chuckled lowering her gaze. “Well group homes can be-hit or miss.” She admitted, almost as if she had experienced such things of a group home in her life. “In the people department.” she added.

“Is that not the case everywhere you go?” I inquired.

She scoffed. “Yea; you’re right.” 

“So-” I exhaled. “What is it that I will be doing at this grouping home?”  

Lisa hunched her shoulders. “Live-you know, go to school an-”

“School?” I repeat; never have I heard of such a place.

“You’ve-never been to school.”

“Is that a question?” I asked.

Lisa Jones looked at me resigned, but not frustrated. “I don’t even know.” she chuckled.

“Oh,” I simply responded, “Well assuming that it is...no-I am afraid I have never heard of such a place.”

“Well-it’s a place for kids-your age or within the vicinity of your age to learn.

“Learn what?” I ask.

“Everything-reading, writing, grammar, mathematics, science; among other things.” She looks at me curiously. “Can you write?” she asked.

I chuckled. “Surprisingly, such things of basic necessity, I can do.” Thinking on it further, remembering how odd the circumstances were. “It is my life-and all of this-” I said gesturing to everything around me. “That, I cannot remember.”

She nodded. “I noticed too, that you speak different languages.”

I laugh. “I have noticed as well; however, sometimes my mind does not adjust fast enough to process what language it is before I speak. It’s an odd occurrence.” I admit, not fully understanding of it myself.

“So far you’ve spoke-I think it was German, Turkish, Greek and-what was the other?” 

“I don’t know.” I said to Lisa Jones. That dialect was always one lost to me.

“Hm-that’s weird.” 

“I know.” I said, trying to remember what that dialect was called but for the life of me I could not.

“So are those the only languages that you can speak?” She asked me, returning me to currents.

“Haha, I don’t know.” I replied. “I guess I will find out when the time comes, yes?”

I looked at her just in time to see a smirk appear across her lips. “Yea.” she averts her attention. “It’s going to be a little less eventful around here when you leave.” Lisa Jones sighed; I looked at her curiously, wondering what she meant by this. “You’re a really cool kid, Wilhelmina. Kind of sucks that you have to go at it alone.”

The thought of being alone after tomorrow was very scary, but I didn’t want to dwell on the negative, considering the alternative was my death in the first place. So I simply smiled. “We’ll meet again.” I chuckled. “Hopefully, upon better circumstances?”

To my comment, Lisa snickered. “Yea.” She nodded. “We’ll see each other again.” She then goes into her pocket, slipping me a piece of paper. “If you ever need to talk, you call that number.”

I took the number and smiled, embracing her before sitting back on the bed; my appetite, for the first time since consciousness, wasted as Lisa Jones gets up and heads out of the door. Before Lisa Jones closes my room door, she turns around.

“Mina-” she said, rendering my attention to her. “Take care of yourself.”

After she left, I sat there in my bed and spent the remainder of what turned into a lonely day, mentally preparing myself for the day to come.