Race to Memories

January 16, 2013
By Allyrae SILVER, Washta, Iowa
Allyrae SILVER, Washta, Iowa
6 articles 0 photos 0 comments

Favorite Quote:
If you can't take the speed, don't take the lead.

Race to Memories

Bang. The gun went off. Bryn pushed off her starting blocks and the race was on. Her heart pumped wildly with adrenaline. Everything was a blur as she sped down the track with seven other girls hot on her heels. 100 meters to go. Everything went black. She slammed into the black track. There were sirens and an unfamiliar beeping noise. Bryn’s eyes fluttered. They opened to see a bright blue room filled with people and nurses.
“ Oh my God, Bryn you’re awake,” a woman cried and ran up to the white hospital bed.

“ What’s going on? Where am I? What happened?” Bryn forced out quickly, unnerved by the room full of strange people and doctors.

“ You passed out with only 50 meters to go. You pretty much face planted on the track and slid. You should consider it lucky you passed out,” a girl said.
Bryn lifted her hand to her face and felt the layers of bandages and scratched skin. In her mind she heard the screaming of her teammates and saw the moment the world went dark. She had been thinking about someone. Who? She couldn’t remember who. A tall 17 year old boy walked into the cold room.

“Bryn,” he said cooly. Looking at the bruises and scratches on Bryns face, he didn’t see her injuries, he saw her beautiful, bronze hair and gray, cold eyes staring back into his.
“Who are you?”
She gave him a confused look. The boy was tall with shaggy blonde hair and baby blue eyes. He was wearing an old tee shirt with faded blue jeans.
Soft warm tear rolled down Aarons face. She really didn’t remember. Aaron and Bryn had been friends forever. He turned away to hide the hurt look on his face from her.

“ You don’t remember? Bryn, we’ve known each other since we were four. Think Bryn, please remember. Remember for me.” Aaron walked out of the room silently.
Bryn wrinkled her nose in concentration. Why can’t she remember any of these people.

The doctor had said that they had found a tumor on the temporal lobe of her brain and she would have to have a surgery to remove it.
She was healing, not just her body, but her mind as well. She ran her fingers through her red-bronze hair and sighed. Almost everyone had left the hospital. Everyone but a man a woman.

The woman had silky chocolate brown hair and eyes of a cold gray color, just like hers. She wore a black jacket and dark blue jeans. The man was tall with red hair and light amber colored eyes. He wore blue jeans and a jacket. They looked like they were about the same age, maybe in their upper 30s.

The woman spoke to her sadly,“baby, do you know who we are?” She seemed upset, but still managed to force a smile.

“My Aunt and Uncle,” Bryn questioned.

“ Bryn, we are your parents,” the man said. Bryn gasped in shock. She remembered them now. She was taken back to her 13th birthday. They had gone kayaking and swimming. That was her favorite birthday.She pulled her parents into a big tight hug and swiped away a stray tear.

“Who were those other people?” Bryn asked.

“Your Grandma, Grandpa, Sara and Aaron.”

“Aaron,”she whispered, “who is Aaron?”
Her mother sighed. Somewhere in her mind a file was stored away with her memory of Aaron, now they had to find it.
“I want to go home,”Bryn said quietly.

“The doctor says you will be able to go home in two weeks tops. You need to heal, healing takes time,” Her dad said.


Two weeks later

The car was silent. Bryn didn’t talk the entire way home. As soon as she got home, the memories began to click. She ran into the house and picked up a soft, fluffy, gray, kitten.

“Stella, I missed you,” Bryn cried out.
Aaron cleared his throat in the doorway. Bryn stood up slowly but did not turn to face him. She covered her face in Stella’s soft, gray fuzz.

“Bryn,” he said,”I’ll do whatever it takes to help you remember. I want you remember me.”

“ I’m sorry,” she whispered,” I don’t know you.”
Aaron turned and walked out the door. Bryn turned and faced where Aaron had been standing. Stella meowed, then began to softly purr in Bryn’s arms. A breeze blew through the doorway. Bryn breathed in expecting a breath of fresh air but instead caught a breath of Aarons cologne. It smelled like something familiar, like Axe mixed with Tide and sweat. Bryn dropped Stella.

Slam! The memory hit her hard. She was 12, her and Aaron were at a middle school dance. She was wearing a silky, blue dress and he was wearing worn blue jeans and a button up plaid shirt. She remembered the butterflies she got when he kissed her softly on the cheek before she walked out to her moms silver lexus.

“Aaron,” she whispered. She remembered.

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