What's-His-Name
Chapter four
Mom’s out and Spencer’s busy and to be honest I’m bored shitless. I could watch a film but I’ve seen them all about a hundred times. I wonder where I put all the old horror movies that I haven’t watched in ages.
I get up and walk to the cupboard where I think I put them all. I know they’re in a box, a cardboard box. I open the cupboard and look around. I can’t see any boxes let alone the films. I move some stuff around and I find a couple of boxes. They don’t say what’s in them but what could be in there other than my films, the one’s I’m looking for. I wonder why they are at the back of the cupboard though Just because I haven’t watched them in ages doesn’t mean I don’t like them, it’s almost like Mom or Spencer or someone hid them from me. Why would they do that though?
I drag the box out of the cupboard and into the sitting room where I open the box. It’s to quiet so I get up and turn on the TV. I put the music channel on and sit back down in front of the box. I take some thing out of the box. They sure aren’t films, they look like photo albums. They are all marked with what’s in them except one. One of them has been scribbled out, almost like someone doesn’t want to remember what’s in it. Like it holds memories that just want to be forgotten, buried, never to be dug back up. I set this one to one side. I open up one of the photo albums and see a younger me staring up at me with a goofy grin on my face.
My memories that’s what these boxes hold. Photo album upon photo album of my memories. Why has my Mom hidden them from me? She knows I hate not being able to remember anything. All of my child hood memories. A few of them I’ve seen before when Spencer and Mom where telling me about my family, my friends just after the crash when I was in hospital, but so many of them I never knew existed. So many of my memories just kept form me and why, why would they hide these from me. I feel tears sting my eyes at all of the memories that are lost to me but the one’s who shared them with me remember. I’d give anything to remember all of these things. Tears slip down my cheeks mixing with the eyeliner I’m wearing. How could Mom and Spencer, My own mother and my Best friend have hidden these things from me?
I look through all of them except the one with the crosses out title. The one that it looks like even Mom and Spencer want to forget. I open it and I see my face from only a few years ago. The most recent picture I’ve seen today. I’ m with this gorgeous boy who has got his arm around me. I look through the album, all of them are of me and him, all of them are happy. Some of them are of us kissing or just sitting in each others arms. In every picture we are happy. Thinking about it he looks a lot like the guy I bumped into earlier. The one that was talking to me as if he knew me. Why did Mom hide the memories of a boyfriend of mine? Of someone I seemed so happy with. What happened to make every one want to forget them?
“Ryan you home?” Mom calls out as she opens the door.
“In here,” I say tears still pouring down my face.
“Ry what’s wrong?” She asks.
“How could you hide them from me?” I ask anger lacing my voice.
“Hide what?”
“These,” I shout shoving the photo albums towards her.
“Oh Ry…well you see the thing is….”
“Mom who’s this?” I ask pointing a picture of me and the boy.
I get up and walk to the cupboard where I think I put them all. I know they’re in a box, a cardboard box. I open the cupboard and look around. I can’t see any boxes let alone the films. I move some stuff around and I find a couple of boxes. They don’t say what’s in them but what could be in there other than my films, the one’s I’m looking for. I wonder why they are at the back of the cupboard though Just because I haven’t watched them in ages doesn’t mean I don’t like them, it’s almost like Mom or Spencer or someone hid them from me. Why would they do that though?
I drag the box out of the cupboard and into the sitting room where I open the box. It’s to quiet so I get up and turn on the TV. I put the music channel on and sit back down in front of the box. I take some thing out of the box. They sure aren’t films, they look like photo albums. They are all marked with what’s in them except one. One of them has been scribbled out, almost like someone doesn’t want to remember what’s in it. Like it holds memories that just want to be forgotten, buried, never to be dug back up. I set this one to one side. I open up one of the photo albums and see a younger me staring up at me with a goofy grin on my face.
My memories that’s what these boxes hold. Photo album upon photo album of my memories. Why has my Mom hidden them from me? She knows I hate not being able to remember anything. All of my child hood memories. A few of them I’ve seen before when Spencer and Mom where telling me about my family, my friends just after the crash when I was in hospital, but so many of them I never knew existed. So many of my memories just kept form me and why, why would they hide these from me. I feel tears sting my eyes at all of the memories that are lost to me but the one’s who shared them with me remember. I’d give anything to remember all of these things. Tears slip down my cheeks mixing with the eyeliner I’m wearing. How could Mom and Spencer, My own mother and my Best friend have hidden these things from me?
I look through all of them except the one with the crosses out title. The one that it looks like even Mom and Spencer want to forget. I open it and I see my face from only a few years ago. The most recent picture I’ve seen today. I’ m with this gorgeous boy who has got his arm around me. I look through the album, all of them are of me and him, all of them are happy. Some of them are of us kissing or just sitting in each others arms. In every picture we are happy. Thinking about it he looks a lot like the guy I bumped into earlier. The one that was talking to me as if he knew me. Why did Mom hide the memories of a boyfriend of mine? Of someone I seemed so happy with. What happened to make every one want to forget them?
“Ryan you home?” Mom calls out as she opens the door.
“In here,” I say tears still pouring down my face.
“Ry what’s wrong?” She asks.
“How could you hide them from me?” I ask anger lacing my voice.
“Hide what?”
“These,” I shout shoving the photo albums towards her.
“Oh Ry…well you see the thing is….”
“Mom who’s this?” I ask pointing a picture of me and the boy.