Chapter 1 ~ How it all began
I heard mom say something….murmured it to my father. Something was wrong. I could tell by the way they were acting. Mom kept looking in her rear view mirror so eventually I looked up from my book and turned around and looked. There was a man behind us. A man that looked like a bandit from a movie. I didn’t understand why it seemed to bother my parents that he was behind us. Then I heard the tyres slide on the road. My dad had turned sharply and suddenly around a corner and I could see that it wasn’t where we wanted to go. I dropped my book.
“Mom what’s happening?”
“Nothing sweetie, Dad’s just taking a different route.”
“You’re not telling the truth, please, explain it to me.”
“I can’t sweetie, but we’ll be alright.”
There was a screech of brakes. I looked behind us and saw the man accelerating towards us…almost into us. My mom gasped. Seconds felt like minutes. My dad swerved. I could see the guy was heading for us. He meant to go into us. I screamed. I felt myself slam into the door as my dad swerved again but the man was upon us. My phone flew from my hand. The road was empty, no one could witness anything. I felt the impact from behind me. I saw the airbags pop out for my parents. I saw metal. I heard my mom and I screaming. Then, there was nothing.
~~~~~~~~~~~
Sometimes I told myself...”Be normal Amy, act like a person who has control over your life.” Other times I couldn’t even try. I just lived as who I was, but then comes the question, who am I? I can’t remember much of that. I remember coming home and being told my life story, but I need memories. They build who I am. Having a life without memories is difficult. It’s difficult to mould who you are. I can’t remember my parents, what they looked like and what my life was before this happened. At the age of fourteen I cannot answer simple questions about myself. Simple questions about anything actually. It’s horrifying. Some girls at my school tell me that it’s a chance in life. You can choose now whether you like this and that, you can choose now that you understand things, that you know the way they are. But I don’t. They don’t understand that. Even if I did choose it would never be what I had moulded myself into being as a young child. The only two things I truly remember are, firstly, how to write. I can write in print, in cursive, in bold…Why? I don’t know and plan to find out. The other thing is my name. On my birth certificate, my name is Alana Du Plessis. My real name, however, is Amy Stevenson. People call me Ilana Du Plessis and it’s on my birth certificate….Why should I say my real name is Amy Stevenson? Because I remember it. No one can understand.
~~~~~~~~~~~~
She woke up to the beeping of machines. The first thing her empty brain heard and registered. To a normal fourteen year old girl, the beeping and white around her would say “Hospital”, and then their brain would tell them why they were in hospital. But when she woke up nothing came to mind at all. People were speaking and she could hear them but she had no idea what they were saying. Her brain was swirling and her head ached.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Imagine your mind couldn’t remember anything…you were a baby that could talk, walk and had the ability to understand. That’s how I felt. My parents had died in the crash. I know that. I’m not supposed to know. Not supposed to know anything about the past…my past. But I do. I ask questions. I have to know. The story people know about me and that I was told that I was riding my bike…My bike, and apparently fell off and hit my head, thus losing my memory. I know it was more than that, because I’ve heard people talk about it and whenever my so-called “parents” and I are driving and my “dad” swerves, I scream. It’s in my furthest memory. I heard the doctors and my parents talk about it. They can’t hide myself from me. I deserve to know.
Chapter Two – The Fear
A Nightingale sung its song sweetly in the dark forest. The light wind swayed the trees, causing them to rustle gently…It was a restful night but she tossed and turned, the same memory replaying itself again and again in her mind. The screaming, the pain, the fear being almost as real as the event itself. Eventually she couldn’t hold it in. The emotions pressed against her from every side, inside and out. She began to scream. A scream more of fear than pain. She screamed again and opened her eyes. She heard the banging of doors and the sound of feet. Everything was swirling and she couldn’t make sense of anything. Eventually things began to focus, just as she began to breathe normally again her parents ran into her room. She took a deep breath and told them it was just a dream, a nightmare. They didn’t know the scene that replayed in her mind and would never understand. There was no point in telling them. They were just figures of parents, they could never be real parents to her.
~~~~~~~~~~
“Hey Nat,”
“Hey! What’s up girl?” Natali replied.
“I had one of those dreams again…”
“Again?! I thought you said it was a onetime thing?” She said. I could hear the worry in her voice.
“Uh huh. Well I thought it would be, but now I don’t know.”
“Amy-” Nat started
“Natali. You know you can never call me that? Do you think that you just have an excuse since you’re my friend? Well you don’t! We’ve gone through this.” Amy tried to keep her voice from shaking. She listened into the phone but couldn’t hear anything. Had she hung up?
“Nat?”
“What?”
“I’m sorry...”
“It’s okay. It’s my fault too. I know I shouldn’t call you that.”
“Forgiven?”
“Forgiven.”
“Okay well. I’ve got to go now. I just thought I’d phone to tell you. I’m sorry I had to bother you with this.”
“It’s okay ‘lana. You know I’m here for you. Thank you for telling me.”
“I miss you.”
“Miss you too.”
Beep, beep. The phone hung up. Seconds later Amy still held it to her ear. The house was empty and she was all alone. Why she had told Nat she had to go she didn’t know. She sighed. Life was so lonely and empty these days. Like everyone had forgotten her. Well, she thought, that’s what people had tried to do. Make her unknown. Forgotten to the world. But they hadn’t succeeded. Not yet. And not ever.
I heard mom say something….murmured it to my father. Something was wrong. I could tell by the way they were acting. Mom kept looking in her rear view mirror so eventually I looked up from my book and turned around and looked. There was a man behind us. A man that looked like a bandit from a movie. I didn’t understand why it seemed to bother my parents that he was behind us. Then I heard the tyres slide on the road. My dad had turned sharply and suddenly around a corner and I could see that it wasn’t where we wanted to go. I dropped my book.
“Mom what’s happening?”
“Nothing sweetie, Dad’s just taking a different route.”
“You’re not telling the truth, please, explain it to me.”
“I can’t sweetie, but we’ll be alright.”
There was a screech of brakes. I looked behind us and saw the man accelerating towards us…almost into us. My mom gasped. Seconds felt like minutes. My dad swerved. I could see the guy was heading for us. He meant to go into us. I screamed. I felt myself slam into the door as my dad swerved again but the man was upon us. My phone flew from my hand. The road was empty, no one could witness anything. I felt the impact from behind me. I saw the airbags pop out for my parents. I saw metal. I heard my mom and I screaming. Then, there was nothing.
~~~~~~~~~~~
Sometimes I told myself...”Be normal Amy, act like a person who has control over your life.” Other times I couldn’t even try. I just lived as who I was, but then comes the question, who am I? I can’t remember much of that. I remember coming home and being told my life story, but I need memories. They build who I am. Having a life without memories is difficult. It’s difficult to mould who you are. I can’t remember my parents, what they looked like and what my life was before this happened. At the age of fourteen I cannot answer simple questions about myself. Simple questions about anything actually. It’s horrifying. Some girls at my school tell me that it’s a chance in life. You can choose now whether you like this and that, you can choose now that you understand things, that you know the way they are. But I don’t. They don’t understand that. Even if I did choose it would never be what I had moulded myself into being as a young child. The only two things I truly remember are, firstly, how to write. I can write in print, in cursive, in bold…Why? I don’t know and plan to find out. The other thing is my name. On my birth certificate, my name is Alana Du Plessis. My real name, however, is Amy Stevenson. People call me Ilana Du Plessis and it’s on my birth certificate….Why should I say my real name is Amy Stevenson? Because I remember it. No one can understand.
~~~~~~~~~~~~
She woke up to the beeping of machines. The first thing her empty brain heard and registered. To a normal fourteen year old girl, the beeping and white around her would say “Hospital”, and then their brain would tell them why they were in hospital. But when she woke up nothing came to mind at all. People were speaking and she could hear them but she had no idea what they were saying. Her brain was swirling and her head ached.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Imagine your mind couldn’t remember anything…you were a baby that could talk, walk and had the ability to understand. That’s how I felt. My parents had died in the crash. I know that. I’m not supposed to know. Not supposed to know anything about the past…my past. But I do. I ask questions. I have to know. The story people know about me and that I was told that I was riding my bike…My bike, and apparently fell off and hit my head, thus losing my memory. I know it was more than that, because I’ve heard people talk about it and whenever my so-called “parents” and I are driving and my “dad” swerves, I scream. It’s in my furthest memory. I heard the doctors and my parents talk about it. They can’t hide myself from me. I deserve to know.
Chapter Two – The Fear
A Nightingale sung its song sweetly in the dark forest. The light wind swayed the trees, causing them to rustle gently…It was a restful night but she tossed and turned, the same memory replaying itself again and again in her mind. The screaming, the pain, the fear being almost as real as the event itself. Eventually she couldn’t hold it in. The emotions pressed against her from every side, inside and out. She began to scream. A scream more of fear than pain. She screamed again and opened her eyes. She heard the banging of doors and the sound of feet. Everything was swirling and she couldn’t make sense of anything. Eventually things began to focus, just as she began to breathe normally again her parents ran into her room. She took a deep breath and told them it was just a dream, a nightmare. They didn’t know the scene that replayed in her mind and would never understand. There was no point in telling them. They were just figures of parents, they could never be real parents to her.
~~~~~~~~~~
“Hey Nat,”
“Hey! What’s up girl?” Natali replied.
“I had one of those dreams again…”
“Again?! I thought you said it was a onetime thing?” She said. I could hear the worry in her voice.
“Uh huh. Well I thought it would be, but now I don’t know.”
“Amy-” Nat started
“Natali. You know you can never call me that? Do you think that you just have an excuse since you’re my friend? Well you don’t! We’ve gone through this.” Amy tried to keep her voice from shaking. She listened into the phone but couldn’t hear anything. Had she hung up?
“Nat?”
“What?”
“I’m sorry...”
“It’s okay. It’s my fault too. I know I shouldn’t call you that.”
“Forgiven?”
“Forgiven.”
“Okay well. I’ve got to go now. I just thought I’d phone to tell you. I’m sorry I had to bother you with this.”
“It’s okay ‘lana. You know I’m here for you. Thank you for telling me.”
“I miss you.”
“Miss you too.”
Beep, beep. The phone hung up. Seconds later Amy still held it to her ear. The house was empty and she was all alone. Why she had told Nat she had to go she didn’t know. She sighed. Life was so lonely and empty these days. Like everyone had forgotten her. Well, she thought, that’s what people had tried to do. Make her unknown. Forgotten to the world. But they hadn’t succeeded. Not yet. And not ever.