Lost My Mind

This is my first story after taking my break for the summer. I just wrote this one quick and it might not make the most sense. But still, I hope you enjoy.

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IT WAS STILL DARK WHEN I WOKE up, so I never even noticed the difference. But still, I felt like something was off. That’s when I heard it. It was such a haunting noise, considering what it was. Children’s music, muffled through the walls of my bedroom and droned on for hours. I ripped the blanket’s off of my legs and stood up quickly. I had to figure it out. I had to figure out what was missing. And I had to find what was making that noise. Suddenly the feeling washed over me. Cold and harsh, like an unexpected rainstorm. The fear. The panic. I couldn’t remember. Anything. Not where I was. Or who I was. Or even what year it was. How was this happening? Last night I had gone to bed and everything was fi— But no. I couldn’t even remember last night.

I quickly glanced around the room, searching for clues. But of course it was still dark in the room. What time was it? In a moment I found an alarm clock by my bed. Wait was this even my bed? I couldn’t worry about this right now. I told myself. Because I had to focus on one problem at a time. Speaking of problems the music was still playing. And every note made my skin prickle. Why did it have such an odd effect on me? Right! I turned my attention back to the clock, it’s neon glow making the room even spookier. 5:23. But was that AM or PM? Somehow I knew that it could be dark at both five in the morning and five at night. I walked to the nearest wall, hoping to find a light switch, but only found a window. I glanced towards the door. I wasn’t going to stay in this room all day. But I didn’t even know for sure if this was my house. If there was a chance that I wasn’t supposed to be here and this wasn’t my house, I wasn’t going to risk getting caught in the hallway. Assuming there was one. I turned back to the window, pulled back the musty curtains and quietly unlocked it. I shoved it open and cringed when it made a horrible squeaking noise. I took in a breath of the cool, damp air as I stuck my head out the window. I could see more out here. The sun was rising over a backdrop of pink and orange and blue. Or was it setting? Luckily my room—or the room I was in anyways—was on the first floor. Directly under my window were blue garbage bins that I stepped onto hesitantly.

As I climbed off of the trash can my gaze fell on a messy block of mismatched houses. I wasn’t in the country. But I wasn’t in a big city either. Above me a flock of birds flew and chirped a seemingly happy tune. It must’ve been morning then. That’s when I noticed that I couldn’t hear the children’s music out here. I looked around it was starting to get light out and there wasn’t much traffic on this small street. I looked up to a green street sign that read: Lemon Ln. I tried to remember that, just in case I needed to come back, but kept walking.

When I turned onto Main St. there was much more traffic and it was almost completely light. There were little shops on the street and apartments and café’s. I kept up my brisk pace, still not sure where I was going. I stopped when I passed a tiny coffee shop and my stomach rumbled in protest of all of my wandering. I lunged for the glass door and bumped into someone as the bell tinkled above us. It was a guy my age. At least I thought. I looked down examining myself. I was pretty tall and I seemed to be full grown, but my hands were smooth and youthful. I guessed I must’ve been in my late teens or early twenties. How did I not know how old I was. Well at least I knew I was a girl. The guy just stood there with a crumpled paper bag in his hand and watched as I inspected myself.

“Umm, do I know you?”

I swept my eyes over the guy again. He wasn’t very good looking. He had hair that was too long, almost to his shoulders and wore too big glasses. And he was wearing slippers and his sweatpants were too short. But he did have a nice smile, I guess. He didn’t look familiar in the least. But then again—I checked my own reflection in the glass and the only reason I knew it was mine was because it moved with me—I didn’t recognize myself. This dude could be my brother for all I knew. “No. I don’t think so.”

“Hmm,” He brought the hand with the bag in it to his chin. “We must be in one of the same classes at school. What’s your name?”

“I don’t know.” I said distractedly. The smell of food coming from the bag he was holding was extremely distracting.

My eyes must’ve been staring hard at the bag because he held it up. “Do you want this? You’re staring at it like a zombie. It’s kinda freaking me out here. Anyways, It’s just a muffin, but you kind of smushed it when you bumped into me. My name’s Roy by the way. And if you wanted to be all mysterious and not tell me your name, just say so.”

“Yes! I mean yes I’ll take that. Please. I…I don’t remember my name. Really. I’m sorry. I don’t…I don’t know.” Even though I couldn’t remember my name I knew I shouldn’t take food from strangers—emphasis on the strange for that dude—I was desperate.

“Weird. I gotta go No-name. See ya around.” He tossed the bag to me and I immediately opened it and stuffed a piece into my mouth.

When I was wandering around Main St. I realized I really should have stayed at the house, because it was probably mine and I probably had a family there who could help me. I tried to remember how to get back to Lemon Ln. and stuffed the paper bag into the pocket of my pajama shorts. When I found the house I went up to the front door and knocked instead of climbing in through the window. Right there standing on the front porch, my head started to ache really bad and when my hand found the back of my head there was a bump. When did that happen? Was it this morning? No! I bet it was last night and that’s why I can’t remember anything.

But the door opened and a middle aged woman, barefooted, wearing a nightgown, and holding a baby in her arms stood in the doorway. The notes of Old Mac Donald Had A Farm wafted out towards me just as the woman exclaimed: “Natalie!” As she threw one arm around me and sandwiched me in with the baby a flashback played in my head.

“Natalie!” Carey called me.

It was hard for me to get to her through the crowd of people on the dancefloor, but I managed to reach her without crushing my toes or dropping my water bottle. The music was loud. And the bass rattled through my chest making me feel anxious. I never liked to go to parties, and I was successful at a avoiding them my entire high school life. But my best friend Carey had convinced me to go to this one somehow and I was regretting every minute of it. When I got to her she said we had to dance and took both of my hands captive as she jumped around. I saw no reason why anybody would enjoy this. And Carey—I had looked around and most of these people actually—drank way too much. Someone must have spiked the punch. I don’t know how anybody had gotten ahold of anything to spike it with though—since we were all underage. But I was glad that I had brought my own bottle of water. I wouldn’t take part in any of this illegal activity.

I was broken out of my flashback as the woman pulled back and motioned for me to come inside.

I remembered who I was! I remembered everything! My parents must’ve been worried! But wait. That doesn’t explain everything. I didn’t remember what happened after that. After Carey and I danced. How I got to sleeping in this house. I looked around the living room. Actually Carey’s house, now that I got my memory back, well most of it at least. How had I gotten the bump on my head.

The woman—Carey’s mom—led me to the kitchen and told me to sit in a chair. That was when Carey walked in.

“Oh my gosh Natalie! I’m so sorry for making you go to the party last night. And that you fell off the deck. But you scared me this morning where were you?” Carey was Asian and had cute short—just below her chin with bangs— that went perfect with her chic modern style of clothes.

Carey grabbed Go-Gurts from the fridge and pulled me into her room—the room I had woken up in this morning—where she explained everything. That after dancing we had gone out on the deck where we played a game of Truth Or Dare. Someone had dared me to stand on the wooden railing. And for some reason—that I’ll never know—I did. But I slipped and hit my head. So she brought me back to her house and let me sleep on her bed while she slept on the couch.

As I sat on her bed across from her the music was still on and driving me mad.

"We have to turn that off."

"I know. But it helps my baby brother sleep." She said.

I took a sip of yogurt. "Right."

Then we were silent.

“I’m sorry.” She said, her narrow brown eyes full of regret.

“It’s okay.” I suck the rest of the yogurt out of the tube and through it in the trash. “I mean it’s not okay. But it wasn’t completely your fault and I forgive you.”

Carey hugged me. “You don’t have to go to anymore parties ever again.”

I laughed and then explained everything to her.

“We should probably take you to the hospital. Just in case. You might need X-rays or something. But wait, did you just say you bumped into Roy? As in Roy Rodriguez? Roy from math class? Roy that you've been crushing on like crazy for the past month?”

My jaw drops and I remember all those days when I was supposed to be doing math problems, but was starting at the back of Roy’s head. And then I recall everything that happened today. “Roy is nice,” I pulled out the paper bag from my pocket and showed it to Carey. “He gave me a smushed muffin today. Right I already told you that. I'm over him. He's not my type.”

“Ugh, finally. I was so sick of you pining over someone with such bad hair.” Carey said.

I laughed. “Yeah. How did I like that before?”

“You said it was his personality that you liked. Something about how he didn’t care what anybody thought.”

“Whatever. Boys are lame. Let's talk about something else now.”

Carey rolled her eyes. “Um, no. I still like boys. Just the cute ones. I'm shallow.”

I laughed at her joke. “Okay, but can we eat some ice cream before we go the doctor’s?”

Carey smiled. “Yes. Let’s. I think there’s half a gal of mint chip in the freezer.”

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ACKNOWLEDGMENTS:

Thank you to anyone who reads this story. It's important for a story to be read so thank you for taking the time. Thank you to my cat—Austin—who kept me company while I wrote this. And of course thank you to my wonderful family. But a special thanks to my amazing mother for just being there and being awesome.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR:

Elizabeth Cat is a pretty weird girl. She writes sometimes, but her passion is mostly for art and music. She plays the piano, guitar and sings—all not very well, but she still has fun. She thinks she's funny, but has been told she has dry humor. And it really isn't funny when she laughs out loud at inside jokes that she has only with herself. And she likes to write song lyrics on her hands. But she always tries to be nice and understanding. She hopes you liked this strange little story and if you wish you can leave a comment below.

Farewell,

Her Editor (it's me)