It’s so dark and cold. Where am I? It smells like alcohol swabs. I open my eyes and it’s really bright. I have a migraine and the white walls and the sun coming through the window are making it worse. I'm in a hospital bed. I stare at the painting of a purple flower hanging on the wall as I wonder how I got here. There's an IV in my hand and beeping coming from the monitor beside me. I close my eyes and wait. I don’t know what I’m waiting for; surely someone will be coming for me soon. I wonder why my parents aren’t with me, or even Eric my obnoxious but adorable boyfriend.

I hear the door open so I look up and there is a very pale woman with dark hair. She was probably in her early 20s. She was staring at the monitor and then writing something on the clipboard. "Hi" I said; she jumps a little. " Hello, Ms. Green. Sorry, you startled me. How are you feeling? Can you rate your pain on a scale of 1-10 for me?" I’m very confused. I close my eyes because this bright white room is hurting my brain, and so is trying to figure this all out.
"I’m a 4. My head hurts. Can you tell me why I’m here? Where are my parents?" I feel tears start to form under my closed eyes. "Ava, darling, it will be okay. There is a boy in the waiting room for you. I’ll go get him now that you’re awake.” Eric walks in. I can’t stop crying. I’m so happy to see him. His floppy dark brown hair was a mess. He had bags under his beautiful green eyes. He climbs into bed next to me and hugs me. His arms feel like home. “Why am I here? I don’t remember anything.” I sob. “You fell, baby. I'm here for you. Please don’t cry.” His words weren’t comforting. “I want my mom.” I said through the tears. 
“Um. You haven’t talked to her in 5 years, but I could call her if you’d like?” I could tell he was really uncomfortable. Five whole years? Why wouldn’t I want to speak to her? “Call her.” I said firmly. My head started throbbing, I paged the nurse and she put something in my IV. I was asleep in a few moments. I felt claustrophobic. Eric had rolled over in his sleep; his lanky arm was draped across me. I tried to adjust into a more comfortable position but I only managed to knock off one of the monitors taped onto my finger. It started beeping and my headache was back. I quickly shut my eyes and slammed my hands onto my temples and pushed. It was if I was trying to push the pain out of my brain like you would do to a pimple.
A male nurse came in and hooked me back up, silencing the monitor. “Can you rate your pain for me on a scale on 1 to 10, Ava?” I could only shake my head; afraid I would start crying again. What I didn’t understand is why no one has even told me what brought me to this moment? Eric mentioned I fell, but I can’t recall when or where? I feel the warmth traveling through my veins. The morphine was starting to take effect. I was finally able to ease back into my pillow and relax. I looked over at Alex Robinson, which is the name I read on his tag, and nodded.
“You have a visitor, ma'am. It is 3 am and visitors aren’t allowed in until 8. I thought you just might like to know that a Sheryl Adamson is here.” When he realized I wasn’t going to respond, he nodded and just walked back out of the room. Adamson? Not Green? Is this the reason I’m not speaking to my mom? I look over at Eric, who is peacefully dreaming. It's one of my favorite sights in the whole world. I will demand answers in the morning. The medicine is clouding my thoughts and my body heavy. I fall back asleep.
I awake to the sound of laughter, but not Eric’s. I open my eyes and see Adam and the doctor that makes all of the orders. She notices me noticing her. She stretches out her well manicured but wrinkly hand and says “Hi, I'm Dr. Lloyd the neurologist. You probably have lots of questions but let me explain the basics and I will answer any questions you have at the end.” She sounds firm. She walks over to the white board and draws to circle shapes where the nurse’s names used to be.
“You slipped and fell on ice where a bystander saw you collapse. When you fell, the area of your brain that was mostly affected was your long-term memory. We haven’t pin pointed how much you can remember before the accident. You may or may not regain the missing parts of your memory back but we are hopeful.” I sat there shocked, unsure of what to say or react. Eric mentioned I haven’t talked to my mom in 5 years? What else did I forget? I start to cry out of frustration. I wipe my eyes. “How should I react to my condition?” Her face is so serious and still as she responds.  “Your condition is called amnesia. We will just continue your usual routine and give you a prescription for your headaches. We will also have you in for my tests every few months. You may check out in 3 days to make sure you respond to the treatment.”
This is all so hard to hear. What will happen to me? Will I make up with my mom? Do I even still work as a publisher intern downtown? I will put on a brave face and get through this. I will get my memory back. I am an amnesiac, but not for long.