Pathomania
1: Pathomania | sushi
(n): moral insanity
A searing pain jolted him from his deep slumber. His eyes flung open, and he gasped for air. The chilling wind from the air conditioner hit his cold body, making the hairs on his skin tingle.
Dazed, he looked at his surroundings. He was lying flat in the back of a small cramped car, his long legs unable to stretch any further. A thick layer of blanket was draped over his freezing body, but although it felt cold, his forehead was sweating. His eyes moved towards the windows. He watched as the scenery changed, as if the trees were racing against the direction of the vehicle. The stars hung in clusters, dimly illuminating the night skies.
“How are you feeling?”
He froze as he heard her voice. It was the driver of the car. She continued to focus on the road as she waited for his response.
He paused for a moment, trying to dig deep inside his head about who she was… or where they were… or who he was.
Nothing.
He couldn’t remember.
His mind was blank, pitch black empty.
A terrifying realization dwelled in him, and panic took over his sanity. He got up and looked around frantically. Was he kidnapped? He instinctively went to check his wrists, to check if he was tied up. He wasn’t. In fact, aside from the piercing headache at the back of his head, he was in perfectly fine condition, pampered with multiple layers of thick wool to keep him warm.
Nervously, he looked towards the front, where his eyes met with hers through the rear-view mirror. To his surprise, she wasn’t fazed. She had been anticipating this reaction from him: the distrust and confusion he was feeling.
“We were hiking a mountain when you suddenly slipped and fell down. Luckily, we hadn’t hiked that far, so I was able to get help. The local clinic said the trauma might trigger post-traumatic amnesia,” she explained.
He would buy her story, but her nonchalant attitude made him rethink. Based on her explanation, the clinic said he might have amnesia. But the tone of her voice made it seem like as if she knew all along that he had lost his memory. Like it happened a while ago, not recently.
Am I overthinking?
He shook his head. “Where are we?” he croaked. His hoarse voice surprised her. She took a water bottle from the front seat and passed it to him. He took it gratefully and begin to gulp the content.
“We’re on a road trip,” she replied simply, a smile forming on her lips.
“For how much longer?”
If he really just got into an accident, he was keen to get back home, recover, and catch up on his entire life.
She watched her words, as if she was calculating what to say next. “A month?”
He choked and spilled the water, the wool blankets absorbing the liquid in an instant. “Serious?” he exclaimed.
She chuckled. “Lol, you’re still as blunt as ever.” She pursed her lips, realizing what she just said. The emotions in her sentence hinted him that they haven’t met in a long while. Then, why were they in a one-month road trip?
“Ummm,” he said nervously. “Who are you?”
“Amelia at your service,” she introduced herself.
Still a bit tense, he leaned back on the passenger seat. “So, Amelia,” he began, the word still tasting foreign in his tongue, “can you elaborate further? Who are you to me, and what am I to you?”
Her forehead scrunched. “We’re good friends, I guess,” she started. “But we’ve been busy with life for the past couple of years, so we drifted apart. That’s why we’re trying to mend our friendship again by going on this road trip.”
He blinked. “What about me? What’s my name, and what am I like usually?”
“Lol, this amnesia thing is giving me creeps.” She laughed. “Your name is Mario. You’re a cool, easy going guy. You’re really into films, so you went to work in the film industry doing who knows what. But surprisingly, you earn lots of money from whatever you do.”
“I’m a film guy?” Mario pondered. “What do I do in film?”
“Like I said, we drifted for a long time. I’m not quite sure what you do,” she said. “Maybe editing? Script writing?”
He thought of more questions. “How about age? How old am I?”
“We’re both turning 22 this year.”
Then he was lost for words. He didn’t know what else to ask about himself. The feeling of not knowing who you are and who you are with was one scary feeling. A shiver ran down Mario’s spine. He felt lost, helpless. His only choice right now was to follow Amelia – the only person who he knew knows about him.
As he tried to recall anything left in his brain cells, a town came into view. Amelia stopped the car in front of a neon light sign, one of the only shops lit up in the middle of the night. A gust of cold wind hit the car when Amelia flung her door open.
Next thing he knew, she opened the door next to him, making him jump.
“Get out,” she commanded.
Mario climbed out and waited as she rummaged through one of the bags in the car. She took out a thick black scarf and immediately circled it around his neck. The scarf covered his mouth and half his face before he could protest. Next, she placed a black cap on his head, low enough to cover the other half of his face.
“Good enough,” she murmured, brushing her hands. “Follow me.”
He trailed behind her and entered a sushi train restaurant. The strong fresh scent hit his nostrils. His mouth salivated. The amnesia he was having made him even forget how hungry he was. A waiter greeted us happily until his eyes landed on Mario. A slight recognition hit the waiter’s face. Before the waiter could say anything further, Amelia asked if they could sit near the sushi bar. The waiter nodded delightfully, brushing any doubt or question he originally had towards Mario.
As soon as they were seated, Amelia immediately hit for the bar. She grabbed multiple plates of colorful sushi and took away their plastic covers. Splitting the wooden chopsticks provided, she handed him the already split chopsticks.
“Let’s eat,” she announced.
Mario grabbed the chopstick from her. He unraveled the thick scarf around his neck and put it aside. For a moment, Mario swore he saw a look of alertness hit Amelia’s eyes. She glanced around the restaurant and breathed a sound of relief. Curious, Mario too turned his head around. No one else was in the restaurant.
Amelia popped her first sushi in her mouth. “Yum. Haven’t had this in a while. So good,” she murmured.
Now that they were face to face, Mario was able to study his so-called friend closely. Brushing her shoulder-length black hair behind her shoulders, she brought the next piece of sushi closer towards her thin lips. A slight blush formed on her cheeks as she opened her mouth wide to let the sushi in. A chuckle escaped his lips as she opened her mouth wide. Who would’ve thought that those thin lips could open up that huge.
She rolled her eyes as she chewed. “Is there something on my face?”
“Nah, it’s just funny. How big your small mouth can open. It’s fascinating,” he said, amused.
“Amnesiac, but still weird as usual.”
His nervousness toned down a bit. He looked at the sushi displayed in front of him and let his brain do its job. Right when he lifted his first piece and was about to pop it into his mouth, Amelia smacked his chopsticks with hers—making the small ball of rice fell off his grasp. The sushi fell into a pool of soy sauce.
His jaw dropped. “Whoa, I thought you said let’s eat—”
“Anything but the shrimp ones,” she said, her eyes wide.
“Why?”
“You’re allergic to shrimp.” She shook her head in horror. “If you swallowed that shrimp, wow. Bad things will happen. Your lips will grow twice its size, and you’ll start hyperventilating. Not a good sight to see, I swear.”
“Really? What else am I allergic too? So, we’re this close to even know what we eat and don’t eat?”
She nodded. “To some extent, yeah, we used to be quite close. You’re allergic to shrimp and shell fish. Other than that, you eat everything else. You know, like a blackhole, sucking everything around.”
He picked up his next sushi and ate it. “When did we first meet?” he questioned.
“We met in—” she thought for a moment “—I think elementary school? We go way back. We grew up together, go to the same school, etc. After we graduated high school, we started drifting apart. You went to pursue your film career, and I followed the traditional path of getting a degree, finding an office job, and becoming a corporate slave.”
She always glazed her words with a hint of humor.
“I see,” he exclaimed, trying to digest all this information. “When I had the accident, did you tell anyone else? Like my parents, or my other close family? Why don’t we just go back home?”
She hesitated for a moment. “I’ve told your family about your condition. They’re relieved you are safe,” she informed, her face twitching a bit when she said the word family. “The doctor told you to rest for at least two weeks, that way you can recover your memories faster. So, your family and I thought it would be worthwhile if we continue this road trip. It might help you ease up, and I can slowly help you catch up on life, like answering questions about who you are. Hopefully, by the end of this, you can regain your memory back. It’s like a healing trip.”
He nodded slowly. And it was true. The way she treated him had made him loosen up. A wave of relief washed through him, and he continued to engulf more sushi into his stomach.
After a moment, Amelia told him she was going to pay. She approached the cashier. Mario noticed that the cashier had been eying them intently as they ate. He probably had nothing else to do.
Mario was drinking his hot ocha when his eyes landed on the small tv screen hanging near the corner of the sushi shop. The late-night news was being replayed on the screen. He sipped his tea comfortably until he read the news headline. He stopped breathing.
BREAKING NEWS: Top Hollywood Actor, Mario Miller, Missing For 5 Days.
He grabbed one of the black porcelain plates on the table and stared at his reflection. Then his eyes shifted back on the picture displayed on the TV screen.
His heart raced. He was right all along.
He was kidnapped.
