Chapter 1
It was as if a switch had been turned off when a sudden sense of disorientation and confusion had washed over her. Everything was a blur, metaphorically speaking. Her body was so sore, head feeling like it was filled with cotton, and mind empty yet it was occupied with one singular fundamental question: who am I?
As she looked around the room, everything felt unfamiliar, even the painting staring back at her as if it knew her better than anyone. The painting was a portrait, depicting a young woman with long, flowing dark brown hair and piercing eyes, appearing proud and regal. Another painting illustrated a swarm of black butterflies, fluttering and swirling in a chaotic dance. The wings of the butterflies were various shades of black, ranging from deep, inky black to lighter, more iridescent shades, while the intricate details of the butterflies’ wings added a touch of whimsy and magic to the painting. As she moved her gaze from one painting to the next, she noticed that the same name was signed on all of the paintings on that wall: Amelia H. with a heart surrounding the H.
Tentatively she began to explore down to every corner of the room, hoping that something would jog her memory. She looked over a desk with some workbooks scattered on top with a sticky note attached, but what attracted her attention was the small pot containing an orchid. The lone orchid had long, slender stems that were covered in delicate, waxy petals in the darkest shade of purple, almost black.
Her attention was then naturally drawn to the large bookcase that stood in the corner of the room. She walked over to it, her eyes scanning the shelves filled with famous titles such as Don Quixote, The Art of War, 1984, The Catcher in the Rye, The Bhagavad Gita, The Stranger, and many more. She felt a sense of awe as she realized that these were the same books that literary teachers would assign as required reading. She reached out and pulled a book from the shelf, eyeing it briefly before putting it back to its original spot.
She opened drawers and rummaged through the contents, a collection of clothes in chromatic colors mainly white. She then picked up a photo on the nightstand and stared at the face of the girl in the picture, hoping that it would trigger some recognition within her. But there was nothing, just a blank void where her memories should be.
At every step she took exploring the room she felt a sharp, throbbing pain ceaselessly attacking her head. When she opened the door to walk outside of the room, a small creak followed. As she walked out, she found herself in a hallway. There were a couple of doors along it, the one she just came out of being one of them. She heard noises coming from the end of the hallway, so she started walking with small steps towards it. On the walls, more paintings were hanging, only this time it was not the same painter from before. These paintings were more abstract and minimalistic. In addition to the paintings, many sorts of flowers in delicate and expensive looking vases were placed around the hallway. It gave off a sweet, homely smell.
“… is still unwell but…” a woman was sitting on a couch, fiddling with a phone in her hands. Her white blouse was tucked into her black dress pants, while her hair was put up in a high ponytail to keep her hair out of her face. “Like I said before, I’ll make sure to send her right back when she shows improvement. Thank you, have a great day.” She ended the call with a sigh and looked up from her phone only to lock eyes with her. The woman’s eyes widened in surprise, while the girl’s body had become tense.
“You’re outside of your room for once?” she said as took a sip from her cup of tea. “The principal also just called asking how you’re doing. How are you feeling today?”
She struggled to find the words to describe the turmoil inside of her. She felt lost and disconnected from the world around her, as if she were an outsider looking in on someone else’s life. She couldn’t remember anything, nothing about the woman in front of her, nothing about her past, not even her own name, and this question only served to heighten her sense of confusion and disorientation.
“Confused. I feel so confused.” A well of emotions were evident in her expression.
“Why is that?” the woman cocked her head to the side.
“Because I just suddenly … I don’t know. I’m sorry Miss… and I hope you don’t get too offended, but who are you?” The girl watched as the woman in front of her had a look of perplexity plastered all over her face.
“What?” She could see the pain and hurt in the woman’s eyes, and it only added to her own feelings of guilt and helplessness.
The girl’s fingers fiddled between themselves. “I don’t remember anything...” she muttered. The woman paused, while the girl couldn’t pinpoint whether her face was showing concern or something else. “You don’t remember anything?” She avoided the girl’s gaze for a second, her right hand covering her mouth, whilst the other rested on her hip. Silence filled the living room with inaudible thoughts from both sides.
“The accident must have impacted you more than we thought it would … I’m your mother.” It took time to process.
“Could you tell me what happened to me? What happened in the accident you’re talking about?” She sat down beside her mother, Serena, who looked shiftily around. “We- your dad and I, after we had returned home from a get together with our friends, we found you in the bathroom covered in blood … there was a lot … a lot of blood. You wouldn’t wake up, so we got you to the hospital right after and ....” She stopped mid-sentence.
“And?”
“Yeah. I didn’t think something like that could affect you to this extent. But don’t think too much about it. You’re alright, okay?”
She nodded despite her doubts. “But why? What happened to me?”
“The only thing we know is that someone hurt you at the party you hosted here in our house. We weren’t there when it happened, so we don’t know who did it or why they would hurt you. I can’t even begin to understand why anyone would harm a hair on your head. We were so worried when we found you in that state. I just can’t believe this happened.” She stepped closer to the girl and hugged her tightly. “You’re my one and only daughter, Camellia. Do you understand?” The mother smelled like the flowers in the hallway, only this time Camellia found it neither pleasant nor homely. The woman’s scent was in fact making her headache worse.
The mother pulled away from the hug, but with both arms still holding onto her shoulders. She tugged Camellia’s front hair pieces behind her ears and caressed her face.
“I’m just so glad to see you up and walking again like this,” she smiled while she seemed to scan Camellia from head to toe. The girl cracked a smile the best she could, trying to put aside the feeling of discomfort. The mother stroked Camellia’s head and looked reassuringly into her eyes.
“I’ll call the doctor to come check on you again.”
