Memory Loss

Memory Loss

I don’t remember anything. Not a thing.

“What do you mean? You remember nothing?” John looked at me like I had two heads.

I shook that one head I thought I owned, but that other one? Is that why he looked a me so strangely?

“Tell me the last thing you remember.” Amy took one of my hands. At least I still had just two of them.

“I remember a dark room. Then there was a noise. Nothing after that.”

Brain number two now added a thought. ‘You know what happened. You’re just afraid to mention it.’

John and Amy gave me the ‘isn’t she pitiful’ look.

“I’m sure it will all make sense in the morning. We’ll leave you alone so you can rest.” The pair left me alone, or was it us?

All night, brain one had an argument with brain two. They fought about what happened to give me two heads. Brain one couldn’t remember. Brain two told me it was done for my benefit. It would help me fit in, it’s needed for extra brain power for where we were going.

So here I am, middle of the bed, arguing with head number two. I don’t want to go anywhere. I want to stay here.

Brain one, my original thought producer is silent. Nothing. I tell brain one ‘You’re a liar. Brain two knows what happened. Why can’t you talk to it?’

Now it is morning. The two heads remain on my shoulders. But one is steadily becoming smaller, while the other grows larger.

John and Amy stick their heads in my room.

“Do you remember anything?” they ask in unison.

I have to be honest with them this time. “I don’t remember anything. But brain two might know. Ask it.”


W/C 295