She spoke about it to the psychiatrist. A flood of images swiftly flashed across her mind bringing distorted memories she couldn’t quite remember. It’s as if she had woken up from a long night of rest and spontaneously recalled a very intense dream from that night before. She tried holding on to every little bit of what was being remembered in that moment, but as quickly as the images came, they all began to fade away. An important piece of her soul had been locked away somewhere in the vast open space within her mind. There was no way of grasping the intangible—especially without her knowing where to search for it in the first place.
“Dr. Aislinn, I can’t seem to remember anything but bits and pieces of life before the accident,” Sarah said worriedly. “I feel as though I should have been able to figure this all out by now.”
A tall and lanky man with dark curly hair looked up from behind his notepad and into the terrified eyes of the woman sitting across from him on the couch. “It’s going to take time,” the psychiatrist said. “I think it’s best that we up your medication, and that you try harder to get closer to your husband. That’s the only way you can begin remembering again.”
The suggestions only frustrated Sarah. She had been trying so hard to follow this group of strangers and their advice, but she couldn’t seem to make herself feel at ease or whole again. She even wondered if she ever felt at ease or whole before she lost her memory. She would never find out if she didn’t take another form of action.
That night Sarah went outside to dump her bottle of pills into a hole she had dug in the ground. She felt as though the bottle of potent medicine wasn’t working for her, but she knew her husband would be angry if she wasn’t following the prescriptions. She then decided to start questioning everything.
Read the story, “Shock Wave,” every Wednesday.