Chapter 1
A New Beginning
They say when you die, your life flashes before your eyes. You see a bright light and a warmth wraps around you. You feel at peace.
I wouldn’t know any of that.
Because I can’t remember a thing.
I park my car in a parking space designated for visitors, reach over to grab my backpack from the passenger seat, and then climb out.
I stare at the building in front of me. Fallen Brook High School.
A school I feel no connection to. Something that should be familiar but isn't. Regardless of all that, I feel a pull to this place, as if it's calling to me, beckoning to me like a Siren from Greek mythology. My only hope is that the outcome of being here is better than the fate of the Greek sailors who answered the Siren’s call only to be met by tragedy. And if there is one thing that I’ve learned since waking up in a hospital in Durham three months ago, it's that death doesn’t scare me.
Apparently, I’ve already died once and came back to life.
Feeling a bit self-conscious, I touch the pink tips of my long, blond hair that I dyed with red Kool-Aid the other day.
Why did I color the tips pink? I have no idea.
Bored, I guess. After I was released from the hospital, I'd been cooped up in Daniel's house in Durham for more weeks than I can count on both hands and feet.
There was nothing for me to do other than a steady routine of doctor visits and MRIs to dull the boredom.
And then, suddenly, ten days ago, Daniel announced we were moving back to Fallen Brook so I could attend and graduate from my old high school.
Yep. Today is the first day of what I've been told is my senior year.
When Daniel told me, I had to take him at his word, because, oh yeah, I can't freaking remember.
My nervous eyes dart from the school building to the rest of my surroundings.
The trees are exploding with vibrant green summer leaves, and the grass is well-manicured and tended to.
Several students are leaving the building through the two large glass front doors.
An adult, perhaps a teacher, is struggling to carry a stack of books in one arm while balancing her Starbucks paper coffee cup in her other hand.
My neurologist in Durham said coming back home would be a good thing for me.
Maybe a way to trigger a memory or some form of recognition from my forgotten life.
It's not like any of the weeks of psychotherapy, cognitive-behavior therapy, music therapy, hypnosis, or meditation I've had to endure have helped any.
The day after I ‘woke up,’ Daniel explained that I had been in a freak car accident.
I was driving down a road at the exact same time my parents were coming in the other direction.
A drunk driver tried to pass my parent’s vehicle on the outside, but instead, he careened into the back of them, causing both cars to spin out of control.
The drunk driver’s car bounced off my parent’s and rammed into my car as I was driving by.
Seriously, I couldn't make this stuff up if I tried.
My parents were killed on impact when their car smashed against a light pole.
My car hit the guardrail on the other side of road.
Apparently, the impact was hard enough to have my head smash sideways into the driver’s side window.
The head injury is what put me in a coma for a couple of days and is why I have amnesia.
When I ‘woke up,’ I had conveniently lost seventeen years of my life.
My entire existence gone in the blink of an eye.
The doctors say that I have a rare type of retrograde, dissociative amnesia that statistically has only occurred in one-to-two percent of the worldwide population. So, yay, me.
And because life is not fair, the drunk driver barely got a scratch on him. However, he's currently sitting in Wake County jail awaiting trial.
So, yeah. I'm now the girl with amnesia who lost both of her parents in the same night. I find it utterly ridiculous that I still remember how to play the piano and guitar flawlessly, or can recall some random movie, or know how to solve quadratic equations, but I can’t remember people, places, or events.
Why would my brain retain some arbitrary things but not the ones that truly matter?
Like what my mom looked like, or the sound of my dad's voice.
Important things I should remember but don't.
Anyway, Daniel, my uncle who I also have no recollection of, is my legal guardian now.
I’ve been living with him for the past three months, and he has been taking care of me.
Supposedly, I also have a sister, Hailey.
No one knows what happened to her. She ran away from home with some guy the day of my and my parents’ accidents.
That's why my parents were out driving that night; they were looking for her. Messed up, I know. And as cringeworthy as it may sound, I don't have feelings about any of it. Daniel has showed me some old pictures of my family. Hailey and I were really young in all of the pictures he had. I wanted so badly to feel something. Anything. But as I stared at my parents’ and sister’s faces, all I saw were strangers. There was no connection. Nothing.
The ringing of my phone breaks me from my thoughts. “Hey, Daniel,” I answer once I see his name appear on my screen
“Hey, sweetheart. Have you gotten to school yet?”
“Yep. Standing in front of it right now.”
“I wish you would have let me come with you this morning and be your moral support.”
Daniel and I met with the principal and guidance counselor yesterday, and they promised to make sure my first week back at school goes smoothly.
I'm supposed to go to either of them if I encounter any problems, or if I just feel overwhelmed and need a break.
I know Daniel means well, but I'm sick and tired of all the hovering and babying.
I need to figure out my new normal. It's like starting life from scratch—I'm a blank sheet of paper.
I'm curious to find out what story I write on it
“I'm good,” I tell him.
“I'm still not sure about you driving by yourself. Did you have any problems getting to school?”
Honestly, I think Daniel is more worried about me re-entering the real world than I am.
I haven't come right out and asked him, but I think he's loaded.
His house in Durham is huge, and he's been buying me everything I need without a second thought.
New cell phone? Check. New laptop and tablet?
Check and check. New clothes? Have a closet full of them now.
New car? I look at the cherry red SRT Hellcat I just stepped out of and grin. Big fat check mark
“The drive was easy, and I promise I had no problems,” I assure him. Well, no problems today, I silently confess to myself.
I started having minor blackout episodes a couple of weeks ago.
It’s like I'll start to remember something, and then, bam, my brain shuts off. Literally. I know if I told Daniel about the blackouts, he would stick me back in the hospital and take away my car keys. My car is the only freedom I have had in months, and I refuse to give it up. I love this car. I know I’m being hypocritical, seeing as an impaired man who was drinking and driving killed my parents, but I just can’t give up driving.
Not yet. I know that I’ll have to be super vigilant and extremely careful when I drive now.
At least the car has adaptive cruise control and automatic emergency braking, so at least it should stop itself from plowing into another car or pedestrian if I do zone out while behind the wheel.
Hopefully. Thinking about it more, maybe I should reconsider things.
If the episodes get worse, I’ll stop driving. There. Decision made.
“I need some independence, Daniel. You can’t keep me locked inside a gilded cage forever. I appreciate everything you've done for me. I really do, but I need to start doing normal things. I need to start having a life again. Figure out where new me fits in."
Daniel sighs on the other end of the line.
“I know, honey. I just worry. You're the only family I have left.
We're it, Lizzie. We're all that's left of our family.
I wasted so many years not talking to John, not visiting you and Hailey.
Not being the brother, or the uncle I should have been.
I'll regret that every day for the rest of my life. I just want you to be safe.”
Okay, this has taken a turn for the morbidly depressing. "Hey, Daniel, I need to go. Don't want to be late for my first day and all."
“Call me during your lunch break and let me know how you're doing.” I hold my eye roll from fully forming because I know he means well.
“I will. See you later this afternoon.”
“Bye, sweetheart.”
I hang up and shove my phone in the back pocket of my frayed jean shorts.
I slide my hand along the warm hood of my car and pat it like it's a puppy.
When I first laid eyes on it in the dealer lot, there was something about the car that felt familiar to me.
My heart pounded and adrenaline rushed through my veins like liquid fire.
I begged and pleaded with Daniel that I had to have this car.
Seeing it was the only time I had smiled since waking up in the hospital.
“That’s a nice ride,” a male voice comments to me from my side peripheral. A guy my age with black spiky hair sidles up to my car, a wide grin on his face. He’s wearing dark sunglasses, board shorts, and a T-shirt that exposes a half-sleeve tattoo on his right arm. He's got a freakin' tattoo!
“Thanks. I like it,” I reply. I like his ink too.
Facing me, he leans casually back against the car parked next to mine, like we’re two old friends stopping to chat. “Do you go to school here?”
My eyebrow cocks up. “Isn’t that an obvious question?”
He chuckles. “Yeah. Guess that was a stupid question. My name’s Trevor. Me and the fam just moved into town. We're from Roanoke. It's my first day.” He holds out his hand for me to shake.
“Elizabeth,” I reply, taking his hand and shaking it. "It's my first day, too," I hear myself saying.
He grins at me again before releasing my hand, then nods to my car. “Where'd you buy it?”
“Dealership in Durham.”
“Is that where you’re from?”
“Are we playing twenty questions?”
Trevor chuckles again. “Sorry about that. I tend to get nervous around pretty girls.”
Now I really do my eye roll. Is this guy flirting with me? Perhaps I should consider flirting back. Do I even know how to flirt? That thought makes me wonder if I ever had a boyfriend.
Daniel hasn't told me much about my past life or if I had any friends.
I guess he can't since he was never around while I was growing up. He never got a chance to know me in the first place. All he has are some old photos of when I was a little girl. I’ve asked him about the stuff from my old house, and he has promised to get everything shipped to Fallen Brook soon.
Daniel hired a company to box and store the furniture and the contents from my childhood home.
Those boxes are now sitting in some storage facility in Highland.
At the thought of having a boyfriend, something heavy presses and squeezes my heart, like a hand’s crushing grip. The pressure is suddenly unbearable. I shut my eyes tight and see flashes of the colors silver gray and copper brown.
“Hey. Elizabeth. Are you okay?” I feel a hand shake my shoulder. I blink.
“Huh?”
“You started staring off into space and breathing really weird. Are you having an asthma attack? Do you need me to get you anything?”
Not again. Every time a memory tries to resurface and struggles to get out, I turn into a zombie. And just like every other episode I've had, nothing tangible comes from it. I’m still a blank slate of nothingness
Not wanting to explain myself to this guy—a guy I just met and don’t know—I brush off his concern. “Sorry. Low blood sugar. Forgot to eat breakfast,” I fib.
“I can help with that. Come on. There has to be a vending machine somewhere inside, yeah? My treat.”
I consider Trevor. He’s a great looking guy. He seems nice and he hasn’t done anything that would set off my internal alarm bells. What the heck. I need to start my new life at some point. Since I can’t remember my past, I’m determined to make a new future. It’s time I start living again.
“Lead the way,” I tell him.