MELANIE PRIMLY was a curious child. She had mossy brown hair and had brown eyes. She had two brothers, one named John who was married with three kids, and Keith, who was 16, yet she looked nothing like them or her parents. Just four months ago, she was in an accident that caused amnesia; hence everything before then remained a mystery to her. Her parents told her she loved singing and went to the private vocal academy down the street. She was accepted to a college in London for the arts, but chose one in America instead. She was told that she had a boyfriend named Mark who lived next door and visited her every day, and a few months after her recovery he proposed to her.
Even when told of these things, however, she had no recollection of them. Her parents were devastated. Melanie tried to remember, watching home videos nonstop, but nothing helped. True, Mark seemed familiar, but somehow, when he had her in his arms, she felt like pushing away. Was it just something she had to get used to again, or was there something else she didn't know about?
Above all else, strange things happened when Melanie got angry or frustrated, or even extremely happy or determined. Once, when she was mowing the lawn, she remembered wishing it would all be done so she could shower, and suddenly all the grass was cut. Another time, Keith was being extremely irritating, and all of the sudden a baseball came flying through the window and knocked him in the head. That hadn't been her favorite incident, but it was just one of the many mishaps that happened around her.
As she neared her nineteenth birthday, she prepared to leave for college. Mark would be going with her, but attending a separate university; he was going into accounting. Her parents, Keith, John, his wife, and all three of his kids accompanied the couple to the airport, all smiles as Melanie prepared to go through security for the first time she could remember. After kissing them all good-bye, she boarded the plane.
Melanie did not like heights at all. Her family said it was probably a side effect from the medication she had to take because it had never bothered her before. She accepted this excuse for a while, but decided one day to stop taking her medication—it hadn't been helping her remember anything, so why bother? She was surprised to find that she still couldn't stand being in the air, but didn't mention anything to her parents.
Maybe the accident caused it. Her parents said the accident was caused by a plane's engine collapsing during a landing. Was that why she was so uneasy? Whatever it was, it didn't help that she was in the window seat, sitting next to a complete stranger; Mark hadn't been able to buy two seats directly next to each other and was sitting about ten rows behind her. She closed her eyes and tried to fall asleep as the rest of the passengers boarded the plane, but still found herself stifling a scream as the aircraft lifted up from the ground.
After take-off, she finally had the courage to take notice of her surroundings. A mother was sitting directly in front of her, with two children in the seats next to her asking for snacks. There was an airline magazine in the pocket of the seat and she gladly took it; reading always seemed to calm her down. As she did so, she accidently brushed elbows with the man sitting next to her and looked up at him to apologize, but found herself at a loss for words.
Instead of speaking, she took in everything about his appearance. He had bright red hair and gorgeous blue eyes. Judging by how outstretched his legs were, he also seemed to be rather tall. Melanie had never seen him before but yet, she felt some odd shock pass through her body when she looked at him. There was something familiar about him, as if they had known each other…
A voice broke her concentration; "Would you like anything to drink, dears?"
"I'll just have water, please," responded her seating partner. She recognized his voice, too…
"I'm not very thirsty, thank you," she said, smiling. After the attendant left, he turned to her and stretched out his hand. There was a strange look in his eye, as if her was searching her, but not finding what he wanted. She could hardly bear to look into his eyes. They were so warm and welcoming.
"Henry Kindle," he grinned, introducing himself.
She grasped his hand, trying so hard to figure out where she had seen his crooked smile before. "Melanie Primly."
Henry stared silently at the girl next to him. Something about her seemed vaguely familiar, as if they had known each other…before 'the accident'.
Henry had no family that he knew of. Four months ago he found himself inside a hospital–and he didn't know who he was. He couldn't remember Canything, not even his own name. After three days of lying in a hospital bed, a man came in and insisted to see him, saying he was his best friend, Mark Taylor. Henry recognized Mark but had a strange feeling that he hadn't liked him.
Still, Mark gave him a solid identity, instead of just hazy memories. According to Mark, Henry was a star soccer player. This was reinforced by members of the team, no matter how poorly Henry played. For some reason, he felt some sort of disdain to the sport, which didn't help him improve. The coach insisted he would get better as time wore on and he recovered more fully from 'the accident'.
'The accident' seemed to be unknown to everyone. Mark had mentioned something about a fall, but nothing else was said. The only thing Henry could remember were lights flashing everywhere–particularly green ones. He hadn't mentioned the fact that he remembered anything to anyone—he didn't really want to talk about his actual memories with anyone, especially Mark. Mark always avoided his questions, anyway.
He had, however, informed Henry that he was attending some obscure university in the United States and that they would be rooming together. He wasn't necessarily happy about his roommate, but at least he could get his mind wrapped up in school instead of trying to find out who he was. Not that it would be easy to remember what he was supposed to have learned before going to college, but he could deal with it.
The most unsettling thing about Henry's loss of memory was the incidents. Every now and then strange things would occur when he was feeling any type of strong emotion; he didn't know if they had anything to do with his life before 'the accident' and he was dying to know what was happening. Once, while playing soccer, he wished that he could kick the stupid ball into the stupid net; suddenly, the ball was behind the goalie and everyone was staring around wondering what had happened. Henry searched for the cause just like everyone else, only later realizing that it must have had something to do with him.
At times, there were people on the street who would look at him with recollection, only to look away quickly, shaking their heads. Who were they? How did they know him? Could they tell him anything about his past? He desperately wanted to ask these questions, but they were always gone before he had the chance.
He'd had many instances when things would seem familiar or memories would come back to him in clouded images. Occasionally, Henry would feel slight déjà vu when in a certain place or meeting certain people, but never the way he'd felt it when he shook Melanie's hand. The more he looked at her, the more familiar her face was to him. He could remember (or envision, he didn't know which) what it looked like when she cried, when she laughed…as if he'd known her his whole life. But, of course, if he had been that close to someone, surely they wouldn't have needed to introduce themselves to him.
Perhaps he had known someone like her. Then again, Mark certainly would have mentioned it.
A/N: Well, what did you think? For those of you who have read this before, I just edited the story and changed the title, I didn't change any of the plot. (Though you probably wouldn't remember it anyway it's been so long!) Anyway, please review! :D