the crash
Chapter 1
(the accident)
Haroun
I shouldn’t have gone there, She was fake...
The thought kept repeating in my head as I drove through the storm, gripping the steering wheel so tightly my fingers ached. Rain slammed against the windshield, blurring everything beyond the glass. The only thing cutting through the darkness were sharp flashes of lightning, each one revealing the empty road ahead for a split second… then swallowing it again.
My heart wouldn’t slow down.
What I had seen back there—it didn’t feel real. It couldn’t be real. But no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t erase it. The image clung to my mind, replaying over and over, refusing to let me breathe.
I blinked hard, my vision stinging. I hadn’t even realized I was crying until everything turned hazy.
“Focus…” I muttered under my breath.
I took one hand off the wheel and reached for the tissue box, but it wasn’t on the passenger seat. I glanced down, then behind me, searching blindly.
Where is it?
For a split second, my attention slipped completely off the road.
Then—
Lightning flashed.
I looked up.
A truck was right in front of me.
Too close.
Too fast.
My breath caught as my hands jerked the wheel instinctively, the tires screeching against the wet asphalt. The car swerved violently, out of control—
And that’s when I saw it.
The tree.
There was no time to react.
No time to think.
Just a deafening crash—
—and darkness.
******
A steady beeping pulled me out of the darkness.
Slow. Rhythmic. Annoyingly consistent.
I forced my eyes open, the light above me too bright at first. Everything felt heavy—my head, my arms, even my thoughts. It was like waking up underwater.
For a few seconds, I just lay there, trying to understand where I was.
White ceiling. Faint smell of antiseptic. The quiet hum of machines.
A hospital.
The realization came slowly, like everything else.
I turned my head slightly, wincing at the dull pain that followed. A doctor sat nearby, flipping through a file. He noticed the movement almost immediately and stood up, walking over with calm, practiced steps.
“Good. You’re awake,” he said, his voice even. “How are you feeling?”
“...confused,” I admitted. My voice sounded dry, unfamiliar to my own ears.
“That’s expected.” He gave a small nod. “You were in an accident two days ago. You hit your head pretty hard.”
Two days?
I tried to reach for something—anything—but my mind felt blank, like pages torn out of a book.
“I… don’t remember,” I said.
“That’s alright,” he replied, already writing something down. “You’re experiencing partial amnesia. It’s usually temporary. Memories tend to come back gradually, especially when you return to your normal environment.”
I stared at him, trying to process his words, but they felt distant.
Then, without thinking, I glanced to my left.
Someone was sitting there.
A girl.
I hadn’t noticed her before.
She was holding a book, her eyes fixed on the page, completely absorbed. She hadn’t moved since I woke up—not even when the doctor spoke. It was like she had been sitting there the entire time… just waiting.
The doctor followed my gaze.
“Oh,” he said. “She’s been here since yesterday.”
At that, the girl finally looked up.
Her eyes met mine instantly, as if she had been aware of me the whole time.
Then she smiled.
Relief softened her expression, and she closed the book gently before standing up and walking over.
“Thank God you’re okay,” she said quietly.
Her voice was soft. Careful.
Too careful.
She stopped beside the bed, close enough that I could see the details now—the way her fingers tightened slightly around the edge of the mattress, the way her eyes searched my face like she was looking for something specific.
“Don’t worry,” she added. “I’m here.”
I hesitated.
“...I’m sorry,” I said slowly. “Do I… know you?”
For a brief moment, something flickered across her face.
It was gone so quickly I almost thought I imagined it.
But the silence that followed felt heavier than it should have.
“You don’t remember me?” she asked.
There was no accusation in her tone. Just quiet surprise.
I shook my head.
“No.”
Another pause.
Then she smiled again—just as gently as before.
“That’s okay,” she said. “We can fix that.”
Something about the way she said it made it sound… certain.
Like it wasn’t a guess.
Like it was a promise.
The doctor stepped in again, breaking the moment.
“She’s your fiancée,” he explained. “She can help you reconnect with your memories.”
Fiancée.
The word didn’t feel real.
I looked back at her.
She was already watching me.
Not smiling this time.
Just watching.
Carefully.
“I’m Nora,” she said.
Her voice was soft again.
Warm.
Familiar, somehow—
even though I knew I had never heard it before.
******
Two days later, I sat in the back of a taxi, watching the city lights blur past the window.
Nora was beside me.
She had been talking for most of the ride—not about anything serious, just small, easy things. Places we’d been, things I apparently liked, little stories that sounded like they belonged to someone else.
I didn’t remember any of them.
But I found myself listening anyway.
“…and you said we had to try it together,” she finished, smiling.
I glanced at her. “The restaurant?”
She nodded. “You were very excited about it.”
I let out a small laugh. “Then we should go.”
Her smile widened just a little, like that answer mattered more than it should.
When we arrived, I stepped out and looked up at the place. Warm lights, glass windows, soft greenery around the entrance—it looked expensive, but inviting.
Inside, it was even better. Low lighting, quiet conversations, soft music in the background.
We sat across from each other.
For a moment, I just looked at her.
She looked… different here. The warm lighting softened everything—the way her hair fell around her face, the calm way she moved, the quiet confidence in how she sat.
It felt strange.
Not remembering her.
Because sitting here now, it was easy to believe I had fallen for her.
“You’re staring,” she said lightly.
I blinked, caught off guard. “Sorry.”
She smiled, not bothered at all. “It’s okay.”
I picked up the menu, mostly to distract myself, but my thoughts weren’t on the food.
I slipped my hand into my pocket.
Nothing.
My other pocket.
Still nothing.
I kept my face neutral, lowering the menu slowly.
Think.
“Can’t decide?” Nora asked.
“Yeah,” I said. “Too many options.”
She tilted her head slightly, then looked at the waiter as he approached.
“I’ll order,” she said.
I raised an eyebrow, amused. “Confident.”
“A little,” she replied with a small smile.
Then, without hesitation:
“One chocolate pudding… and red velvet cake.”
I looked at her. “You didn’t even ask me.”
She met my eyes, smiling like it was obvious.
“You love red velvet.”
There was something warm in the way she said it—not showing off, not teasing. Just… sure.
I found myself smiling back. “Do I?”
“Every time,” she said.
I shook my head slightly, but I didn’t argue.
“Then I guess I trust you.”
Something in her expression softened at that.
The food came, and she wasn’t wrong—it was good. Really good.
For a while, things felt… normal.
Easy.
She told me about how we met, how we used to study in the same place, how things slowly turned into something more. The way she talked about it—it didn’t feel rehearsed. It felt real.
And even though I couldn’t remember any of it…
I wished I could.
“That must’ve been nice,” I said quietly.
“It was,” she replied.
There was a brief pause, but it wasn’t awkward.
Just quiet.
Then suddenly, she sat up slightly.
“Oh,” she said. “I forgot.”
She reached into her bag and placed something on the table.
My wallet.
“And your phone,” she added, setting it beside it.
I stared at them, then looked back at her.
“I kept them with me,” she said. “Just in case.”
I let out a small breath of relief, laughing under it. “You just saved me from a very embarrassing situation.”
“I know,” she said, smiling.
I picked up the wallet, shaking my head. “I owe you one.”
“You owe me a lot,” she said playfully.
I laughed, and for the first time since I woke up, it felt… natural.
A few minutes later, she placed her hand lightly against her head.
“I’ll be right back,” she said. “I think I need some air.”
“You okay?”
“Yeah,” she said quickly. “Just a small headache.”
I nodded. “Alright.”
I watched her walk away, then glanced down at the wallet in my hand.
Something made me open it.
It felt lighter than it should.
I frowned slightly—
—but before I could think about it too much—
A voice suddenly cut through the restaurant:
“Fire! Everyone out, now!”
Everything changed instantly.
Chairs scraped, people stood, voices overlapped.
I was already on my feet.
Nora.
I moved toward the hallway, my chest tightening as I saw smoke beginning to spread.
I found her near the wall.
“There you are,” I said, grabbing her hand. “We have to go.”
She nodded, her grip tightening around mine.
Together, we pushed through the crowd. The heat was rising fast, the air growing heavier.
Something crashed in front of us—a chandelier shattering across the floor.
We both stepped back.
“This way!” someone shouted.
I didn’t hesitate. I pulled her with me toward the back exit.
She stumbled slightly, and I instinctively held her closer.
“Stay with me,” I said.
“I am,” she replied, her voice softer now.
We reached the door. I grabbed the handle—it burned—but I forced it open.
Cool air rushed in.
We stepped outside, away from the chaos.
I turned to her, breathing hard.
“Are you okay?”
She nodded. “Just a small cut.”
I looked down—nothing serious.
“Come on,” I said. “Let’s move.”
She didn’t let go of my hand.
And for some reason…
I didn’t want her to.
******
