“Felix,” a voice echoed. It sounded distant and out of reach.
“Felix.”
Was it getting closer?
“Felix!”
It was definitely getting closer.
“Felix!”
Who was calling? Despite not knowing where or who this voice was coming from, it sounded oddly familiar.
“Felix!”
Why was my name being called? Why did my body hurt? What was going on?
“Felix, Run!”
I woke up with a shock. Something was wrong, but I could not tell what was wrong. Breathing hard, I looked at my roommate, Max, who for reasons I don’t know, started sharing a bed with me. Was he the one calling me? No, his voice did not match the voice still ringing in my head. Why did I feel so sad? My body began to shake. Why did I feel as if something was missing?
I jumped as I felt a hand on my shoulder but calmed down when I realized it was only Max. He took it upon himself to give me a back rub during my distress. As he rubbed, he tried to assure me everything was okay, “ Felix, it’s okay. You’re okay.”
Sorrow began to fill my body, and I couldn’t stop myself from silently sobbing into my hands. Why did I feel this way? What was I missing? Suddenly, the sorrow I felt vanished into thin air as if it was never there, leaving me with a feeling that can only be described as lost. Looking at my roommate with empty eyes, I searched his face for a clue of what happened.
“Do you remember anything?” He asked me.
I looked at him puzzled, “what do you mean?”
“Your nightmare.”
“What nightmare?” I was confused. What in the hell was he talking about?
He sighed, “Don’t worry about it. What do you want for breakfast?”
At that moment, my stomach growled. However, I didn’t feel very hungry, so I told him, “surprise me.”
Without another word, he got up and left. Something about the way he walked made me furious. I didn’t understand what, but there was something there that didn’t belong to him. His long torso stood erect as his dry fit shirt clung to his back. Although he had a thin frame, every inch of him was muscle. He walked around like he owned the world and wanted to flaunt it to everyone.
However, this was a stark contrast to his true personality. His walk was like a lie. His strides were filled with an unwavering confidence; he never hesitated to take a step. His cocky walk had its perks; it made me feel as though I was popular and cool when I walked at his side like a trusted companion.
I had been staying with Max for about a month, and honestly, there was nothing to really complain about, but even then, I never felt one hundred percent happy. He took real good care of me and made sure I was happy as possible, considering my circumstances.
A year ago, I woke up in the hospital not knowing who I was, where I was, or what was going on. I couldn’t see my body nor move it. In fact, I couldn’t even feel my body. The moment I woke up, doctors rushed to my side with lots of questions. It was scary and alarming to be bombarded with a million questions when I didn’t even know where I was and why.
Thankfully, the doctor that was assigned to me was the least inquisitive. He walked into my room long after I had woken up and gave me a quick examination before asking any kind of questions.
“Well, you’re awake. Can you hear me? Can you speak?” his husky voice asked me.
I could hear him, but I was unable to nod my head. I wanted to speak, but something deep inside was keeping me from speaking. I was deathly scared, but I couldn’t remember of what. Maybe he just wanted to fill me in, or maybe he could see the panic on my face, but despite not knowing if I could hear, he began to give me information on my situation.
“You’re in a hospital with a broken neck, a broken leg, and a fractured hip.” The voice spoke. He stood there looking at me, presumably waiting for some kind of response from me.
Why was I broken, and what happened? At the time, I didn't know the answers to these questions, and with nowhere else to go, I was forced to stay in the hospital. I stayed in the hospital until all my wounds had healed, which took about three months.
In those three months, I never left the hospital bed; I even had to use an uncomfortable metal pan as my bathroom. Since I had been off my feet for so long, my muscles had weakened, and I had to relearn how to stand and walk. It took six grueling months for me to walk like a normal person again.
Throughout my physical therapy, I continued to stay at the hospital, and while I was there, they put me through mental therapy as well. It was their hope that somebody could find out what was wrong with me and find a way to convince me to talk about what happened to me. This didn’t work, and I ended up going through several therapists.
Eventually, I met with my last therapist who also happened to be one of the detectives on my case. This therapist was Max, and he had suggested that the best way for him to understand what was wrong with me was for me to live with him.
A few weeks after leaving the hospital to live with Max, I began to speak. I don’t know why or how; the words just came out of my mouth. My first words formed a question, “Who am I?” I remember he looked at me dumbfounded, but after his initial surprise, he gave me an answer.
“Nobody knows. The police tried for half a year to find anything on you. They took blood samples and fingerprints, but you’re no where in the system. It’s like you never existed before you were found. All I can tell you, is that you are roughly twenty-six, and we think your name is Felix due to a name tag found close to your body. Past these small details, nothing is known about you or where you came from. Although, some of us do have our guesses and conspiracy theories.”
I asked another question before I could even process the words in my head, “What happened?”
He lowered his voice, “ Again, nobody really knows. Your body was found in a field by a hunter, heading to his ground blind. Upon your discovery, police and detectives began searching for answers, but the only thing they found was miles away from your body. They stumbled into a region of the forest that they have dubbed Strange Blood Bath Zone. The area displayed signs of a massive fire as everything was covered in ash and no greenery was present, and on top of that, lots and lots of blood were splattered all over the area, causing detectives to dub it the Blood Bath.
This horrendous scenery spanned for miles and miles, but the strange thing is that there were no bodies. Without any bodies, we don’t know if it came from a human or an animal because the blood samples from the scene were too scorched to be of much use.
Despite that, we still tried to do DNA analysis on it, but the only thing we got back were errors. Detectives are still unsure if there is any connection between you and the Blood Bath, but since mystery clouds both you and the Blood Bath, they have clumped both you and it into one case.
Police were hoping that when you woke up that you would have answers. However, you were mute, and it was unclear why, so specialists believe your lack of speech was a result of trauma.” He paused for a minute then took the opportunity to ask me something in return, “Do you know what happened?”
I didn’t know how to answer. There was something there; I could feel it, but what was it? I shook my head and cried. I wanted to know what had happened, and I knew that somewhere inside of me were the answers, yet I didn’t know how to get them out. He took out a small notebook and scribbled something down, and I asked another question, “is something wrong with me?”
“In a physical sense, not anymore, but mentally, you are suffering. We believe it to be due to trauma.”
“What's that?”
“An illness that clouds your mind, making it impossible for you to remember something or to function as a normal person. It’s believed that it’s the brain’s way of protecting itself and the person it resides in.”
“What do I need to be protected from?”
“I have no clue yet.”
Since that conversation, I started talking more, but I still didn’t remember anything. This sometimes made me sad. I wish I knew the answers; I wish I knew why I felt so empty. I wanted to remember my past. Who was I before waking up in the hospital?
While living with Max, I’d randomly ask about the case, but it would appear that beyond the initial discoveries there was nothing. My face and name had been on the news several times, playing as if I was a found dog, and they were looking for an owner. Despite my face being everywhere, nobody knew who I was, and if they did, they sure didn’t say so. This only made me feel more empty.
Detectives came to me several times since discovering that I was talking. They asked a lot, but I never knew the answers. It was frustrating! I knew they wanted the answers, but none of them wanted answers as much as I wanted them.
I stretched my limbs as I got out of bed. I took in a big breath, which made me realize the house smelled good. Max had cooked bacon and eggs that morning, but all I could smell was the bacon. It was as if the eggs had no scent of their own. I slowly made my way out of our shared room and to the dining room. There was a small table with enough room for the two of us and one other person.
When I had first moved in, he had a larger table, but for some reason he kept insisting that he needed to be close to me as much as possible. I assumed it was so he could do his job and study me more closely, but it seemed as if he was too scared to part from me for too long.
I sat down in the same chair I had been using since the day I moved in. Upon sitting down, I looked out the window that faced the backyard; it was beautiful: plenty of trees and grass filled the view. I liked it out there; sometimes I would spend hours just sitting in the backyard.
For some reason, when I was out there, I’d feel at peace. It felt as if I was complete and out there was where I should be. Sometimes, while out there, I longed to explore the expanses of the green lush forest; however, Max wouldn’t let me explore in the woods, not even within the tree lines, because he was worried it might trigger a panic attack.
“Here you go.” Max announced as he placed a plate of bacon and eggs in front of me. The delicious smell of bacon filled my nose and my mouth began to water as Max took his seat opposite of me and began to eat.
I looked down at my plate, bacon was nice and so were eggs, but I wanted more. I told Max this one time, and he asked me what it was that I wanted. To my disappointment, I didn’t know the answer. It was as if something was just missing, but that seemed to be the way everything felt to me.
Something was missing, and I had no clue what it was. How could I? I lost most of my memory; there was no way for me to know what I was missing if I didn’t even know what I had before waking up in the hospital.
I picked up a piece of bacon and just looked at it. I flipped it over and over, studying it as if it held the answers. Did I eat bacon in my past? Was there any memory in my head of eating it before meeting Max? No, there was nothing there, and no matter how hard I looked at the bacon, I couldn’t surface any memory.
Max looked at me; he knew I was struggling, yet there was nothing he could do for me. As I finally put a piece in my mouth, he spoke to me, “the detectives want to take you somewhere.” This scared me. Take me? Where? Why? “They’ve asked me not to tell you where.”
“Oh, okay.” I replied as I pushed my plate away. I felt sick; I didn’t want to leave the house.
“You’ll be okay. I’ll be there with you.”
I just nodded my head. Where could they possibly want to take me? Were they going to lock me in an insane asylum? Max finished eating and even ate what was left on my plate. He picked up the two plates, and I got up to change out of my nightwear. I walked back into our room and went to the closet. What to wear? Does it matter? I really needed to know where I was going. “Max, what do I need to wear?” I shouted from the room.
“Wear something comfortable.” he replied back to me.
That didn’t make it any easier! I just sat there and looked at the closet, trying to decide what to wear. I ran through option after option in my head, but nothing seemed right. I began to pull out pieces of clothes one at a time trying to decide if I wanted to wear it, but nothing felt right. I hated all of these clothes. None of it felt comfortable to me, and none of it spoke to me. Then, Max walked in and pulled out a pair of pants and a random shirt and handed them to me.
“Relax” he said as he grabbed himself a set of clothes.
Comments (2)
See all