Reflecting on Amnesia

My life finally hit rock bottom. After years of jumping in and out of jail, drug abuse, and depression, the worst possible thing happened. I ended up in the hospital. According to the doctor, I had been driving home from a party, drunk, when my motorcycle smashed into a deer that was next to the road. I had swerved severely and hit it full highway speed. The deer had died instantly, but I had obviously lived. They said I would fully recover the use of my body, except for my left arm, which had gotten flattened and was not repairable. That sucked because I was left handed. There was one other problem I almost forgot about. I didn’t remember a thing. I had to learn about my own life from other people. People who didn’t particularly like me either. Apparently, my head had hit the ground in some special way, combined with the alcohol in my system, made my brain forget everything.
For the next year, I learned how to use my right hand. I turned out to be all right at basketball, so I played that a lot. Sometimes I had a craving for drugs, so I started to drop back into my old habits. First I was just smoking cigarettes, but my cravings got worse, and I turned to marijuana. Occasionally, some mean looking people would turn up, saying they were my friends. Since I had no reason to suspect otherwise, I hung out with them. We stole, broke and vandalized every surface we could find. At first it seemed fun, but over time it got to the point where it was stupid. Everyone in town knew who we were, but that didn’t discourage them. If anything, they just got more enthusiastic. After a few months, I was back in jail. The warden and staff seemed to know me well, and that concerned me. How many times have I been here? And for how long? I had nothing. I pleaded not guilty at my hearing, and I was released because of my amnesia. Now I knew to steer clear of those guys. That was easier said then done. They were everywhere.
In the year after I got out, I was followed. When I was running, playing basketball, even when I went shopping. It started to feel a little like I was being stalked. Possibly they blamed me for landing them in jail. After several months, I grew more confident they wouldn’t hurt me, just watch me. I was never more wrong. July fifth, 2012. Exactly two years after my accident. I was at my parent’s house with my family, who was worried about my recent habits. I convinced them it was nothing, not wanting to reveal the truth. We all slept in after watching the fireworks the day before. When I finally awoke, I planned to go fishing on the lake, for some peace and quiet.
Out on the water, hook dangling; I began thinking back on the last two years. I had started off fine, recovering nicely and staying away from bad drugs. My face darkened as I remembered the bad things. Jail, drugs, and those guys. I just wanted to get away from it all, but I didn’t know how to start. By the time lunch came, I had three fish and the beginning of a new life plan. It would be hard going, but the rewards were worth the work. I was about thirty feet from shore when the boat started rocking. It was a small rowboat, with no engine. I tried rowing faster, but something was sticking to the bottom of the boat, hindering its movement. Cautiously, I peeked over the side to glimpse a snorkel as it passed under the boat. I realized the men had followed me to this remote location. I was frozen. Why were they following me? What was that important? Based on a split second decision, I grabbed him the next time he swam towards me. I screamed so loud birds flew away.
“WHAT DO YOU WANT WITH ME?” He was so shocked he hung from my arm, limp as a doll. It took a full five minutes before he moved.
“ You have something important to us. I want it back.” He was so nervous it was had to hold on to him with him shaking all over the place.
“What does this item look like?” I asked.
“It’s not an object. It’s inside you.” He replied.
“No way. I am not cutting myself open to get this stupid thing you want.”
“But you don’t have to See, we want your heart. Before you lost your memory, you were the person who stopped us when we went too far. You were the only person who still had a conscious among us. We need you so we don’t get stuck in jail.”
I was stunned. I thought they wanted my head for ditching them. I thought it was cool of them to think that of me, but I had made a plan, and I intended to stick to it.
“Sorry boys,” I said, for the other men had surfaced, “I have a full life ahead of it, and I don’t plan to spend it rotting in prison.” With that I dropped the dude in my hand, dived overboard and swam to shore. It took a little longer then it used to, because I only had one arm, but I made it to shore alive. It helped that the guys were so shocked they just held onto the boat, staring after me like I was going to change my mind. Of course I didn’t, and when I reached shore, my family had gathered on the porch, watching the exchange. I pushed past them, went to my room, paced my bags, and drove home. For the next few days, I was cleaning my apartment of anything like drugs and alcohol. I was a new person. I practiced basketball daily, but never made it onto a team. Instead, I got a job as a counselor after finishing school. I could relate to everyone because I know what the students are going through. I thought that day seven years ago was the worst thing that could happen to anyone, but it turns out, that accident gave me the courage and confidence to start fresh, and save myself from certain destruction. (1067 words)