1
It was cold.
That’s all I remember of the incident.
The incident.
It’s almost funny how you can summarise something so
traumatic I can’t even remember it, in one word.
Incident.
‘Is that all you remember?’
A small woman with an intense nose peered over a clip board;
she had sliver wiry hair that matched her solemn eyes. Spectacles sat tightly
round her large nose yet stretched out too far across her face leaving her
looking cross eyed.
Before the incident I would have maybe offered her a few
styling ideas or perhaps a new look, but now, now is different.
She stared at me as if waiting for something.
She repeated, ‘Is that all you remember?!’
This time a little more forcefully.
‘Oh, um, yes, yes that is all,’
I replied politely, snapping out of a daze.
I did that a lot now, glare into the distance and let my
senses evaporate.
I examined my clothes searching for something.
The shirt was a colourless, white camisole, which contained
several smudges ranging from brown to deep green.
I tried desperately to remember.
Nothing.
Looking down I lifted my camisole to get a better angle of
it in the light of the yellow bulb centred above the lonely desk.
There was a single smudge of red lipstick on the base of my
shirt.
Or was it blood.
I glared at the stain for maybe a whole minute.
Refusing to understand the smudge, I dismissed it.
My honey, golden eyes dragged from the smudge to my skater
skirt.
It was once an Aztec printed, pastel coloured, expensive
skirt.
But now, now was different.
Ripped edges and ruined satin was all that remained.
After the results of my clothes I decided it best to not
review my knee high boots.
They were once my favourite item.
Before the incident.
I thought it odd.
How I could remember things before but nothing about the
incident.
Nothing.
The lady scribbled something on the clipboard then she
folded over the page.
As she did I caught a glimpse of her sterilized white lab
coat and red loose blouse tucked into waist high boot legged jeans, belted with
a woven dirt coloured belt. A small pair of black Asics concealed her feet and
a cheap pair of oversized pearls hug from her ears, weighing them down.
Concussion.
That’s all the incident had left me with.
My family.
Dead.
My friends.
Dead.
I once loved him, a long time ago.
Before the incident.
I guess I should start with that.
Before the incident.
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