Gaze

Jennah decided I should probably go get some air. I didn't have any reason to disagree (to my misfortune), so we went out downtown to some restaurant.


Which was boring, but there was something kind of strange afterwards. I wouldn't have taken any notice of it if it wasn't for Jennah's reaction.


I still don't really get the big fuss, but it was a bit strange. I was...afraid, I guess you could say. Not exactly sure, I'm still sort of dazed, but....I don't know.


After we left, there was this bum kid on the street. He had to have been sixteen. Seventeen tops. He had this really messy blonde hair, I almost thought it was white when I first saw him, and it covered the left side of his child-like face.


I know I said he was probably sixteen, but his face made him look twelve. His eyes were wide in what seemed like fear, and they weren't focused on anything. I don't even think he knew we were there. His eyes were these pretty crystal blue color, too. They looked so innocent, but the glimmer of life that should have shone in them was missing...


Now, I said it seemed he had no idea we were there. At least, he had no idea I was there. Jennah tried to duck as soon as she saw whoever the kid was, but he seemed to lock onto her presence instantaneously. He made some sort of noise, perhaps he said a word. I'm not sure, I didn't hear. I just saw his lips move. Jennah then pulled me along, and said to keep moving.


I want to go back and see if I can find that kid again, but he looked like he was half dead. I doubt he's going to last much longer. I feel bad, but I don't. I can't start being sympathetic for other people before sorting my own stuff out.

Dreams

They're supposed to be a recollection of the mind, where it sorts out what had happened, and your dream is a mindscrew of things that happened to you mashed together, right?


Nightmares, though. They leave you awake with your heart pounding, and a cold sweat covering your body as you try to recollect what just happened. Sometimes you can, but most of the time the fragments slip through your fingers and you're left wondering what left you shaken up so badly.


Then there's always that one horror that's created in the depths of your brain. It haunts you. It keeps it's claws around you throat, waiting for the chance you make the wrong move, and pop, you're dead. Insecurity. Fear. Terror. Guilt. Sorrow. Shame. It feeds on negative feelings, growing stronger while you're just trying not to screw up in life.


Dreams can be horrifying. Yet there's the good ones to. The ones that make you not want to ever wake up. The ones that make you think that you don't suck and you actually belong somewhere. It's paradise. But it's just a tease, because eventually you will wake up, and whatever you dreamed will just float away into borderline nonexistence, buried somewhere in the dark gallows of the brain. Lost forever, until it suddenly decides to pop back up again. And again. And again. Every time you think you're closer to achieving something it's yanked away from you at last second.


Yet people need to sleep. If you don't, you die. It's not fair, is it? Either die or be teased while you're able to live.

Now, take  me. I can't remember anything. How do I sort the shards of what I can recollect together? I can't.


But the answer's hidden in there somewhere...


And you wonder why people say "life sucks".

Irony

I’m starting to remember one or two things.

It’s not “alert the medics” worthy, but while I’ve been dreaming I’ve been getting glimpses of what I would assume is my childhood. I can see my parents taking me to my first day of kindergarten. Them celebrating one of my birthdays. Things like that.

I feel like it’s a tease, though. I get stuff like that but when I try to remember more, there’s nothing. My head is taunting me. Even the few memories I can remember I feel like I’m not seeing the whole thing. Almost as if my mind is physically blocking the memory. Maybe I repressed them?

The thought of me repressing them is actually scary, because what if I don’t want to find out who I was then? What if I was some serial killer, or an arsonist? Or something that could get me arrested. In fact, what if the only reason they didn’t take me off the plug while I was in a coma was because they needed me to stand on trial? They couldn’t try me now; not when I don’t remember anything.

Jennah’s told me to calm down, but I really can’t. The fact that my head is empty terrifies me.

I want to be normal.

Doc, anyone at the hospital. Are you reading this? Is there something you’re not telling me? Am I just being extremely paranoid?

I feel like I'm going to go crazy before I find out who I was.

Night

Jennah’s told me I’ve been shouting at night. She asked if I was having nightmares again, but I don’t remember dreaming anything.

She also told me that I used to have them all the time. Really bad ones. I’d wake up and wouldn’t be able to say anything to anyone for a couple of hours. I ‘was too scared’, she said.

I don’t know what I’d be screaming about. I’m finding this frustrated; why can’t I remember? I remember the few dreams I’ve had since I’ve woken up this past six months.

I saw that the hospital called me yesterday while Jennah took me out. They didn’t leave a message though; and when I went to call them back they said they never called. I had asked to speak to Doc, and they said he’s been out of town for a while now.

I’m really confused by all this. I just want to know who I am; I want to know what’s going on. To be honest, I’m only writing in this for a hope that Doc will finally tell me that they came up with a pill that can restore memory loss.

I’d love that, however unlikely it would be.

Being amnesia girl is getting tiring.

Lounging Around

--and extremely bored.


Very, very, very bored.


I don't think anyone could possibly know the level of bored I am on right now. If this was a game, I'd be stuck on that boss that's really difficult but you know you should be able to beat it.


Except I can't. And it's very annoying.


Very, very, ver-- okay, I'll stop.


I convinced Jennah to take me out sometime soon, she made a face at first, but eventually agreed. Which made me kind of happy. It's not an emotion I feel much lately, so I'll take it and leave without complaining. She didn't say what day though, so I'm kind of wallowing in anticipation.


...and scuffling around...with nothing to do....


Someone needs to tell me what's going on.

Internet

Okay, doing nothing but just lounging around this place while everyone’s at work is extremely boring.

I’ve been going around the internet trying to figure out what's going on. At times, though, the screen just locks up. It's very irritating. I've had the computer shut down after letting out this loud noise too. It's overheating, I guess. I don't know. What do I know?

I’d go out, but I would get lost. I don’t know my way around. I think there’s a lake outside. Jennah said it was built for the apartment complex, but we have to pay for it. Why would we pay for a lake? That seems ridiculous. Especially one that the whole complex pays for…

Doc. I haven’t heard from you since I made this. You are reading this, aren’t you? I’d find it a waste of time if the person who told me to write this isn’t keeping up.

Nothing has happened; and everything’s been going by really slowly. I need something to do. I need to know what I used to do. Just anything that would stop the emptiness in my brain from being extremely noticeable.

Introductions

Hello.

My name is Kristal, and I’m an amnesiac.


Well, that’s what my doctor told me.

I don’t know who I am. I was told I had hit my head two years ago and suffered brain damage. I was in a coma for a year and a half, and six months ago I woke up without the slightest clue on who I am.

I was told I was “making good enough progress to be released from the hospital,” and that one of my "‘friends’ would let me live in her apartment." Her name is Jennah. I was also told to make an online journal so my doctor can keep track of what I’m doing.

I named it “Mind’s Prison” as a reference to my situation. My memories are jailed up somewhere inside my head. I’ve been told my sarcastic nature hasn’t left me. Sarcasm is good, right?

Okay, so, if you’re reading this Doc, I made my journal, and I emailed you the link. You should have gotten this if you’re reading it now.

I just returned to the apartment, and Jennah is being extremely nice. That’s all that’s really happening. I can't tell if she's just trying to hard, or if this is really her personality.

Oops. I shouldn't be insulting the person who's supposed to be my best friend.

Well, I guess that's really it. I don't know what else you want, Doc.