Hearts and The Heartless
Chapter Three: Finding Herself
Emily looked around. She was left alone. The room where she was standing right now seemed warmer. It was painted in shocking pink, lots of flowery pictures hanging on the wall, several posters of Nirvana, which Emily found herself staring at, a single bed with flowery sheets, and several pictures in frames. She did not remember any of these, she guessed it might be the room of a teenage girl. She walked around and found herself in front of a mirror, again. She looked closely on her reflection. The blue hospital gown had gone; she was dressed in a striped sweater, a pair of jeans and gym shoes. Then she sat on the bed, thinking. She needed to remember, she needed to be surrounded by people again. Her three years’ life had gone just like that, and she needed to get it back, and her life before that too.
She approached the picture frames slowly; her back was still aching whenever she tried to walk any faster. There were pictures of a little girl riding on a pony, the very same girl smiling and waving at the camera, and baby pictures of the same girl too. Emily frowned, nothing came burst into her memory from just looking at those pictures. She now, know that the lady who claimed to be her mother named Dorothy, the silvery moustache man named Murray who told her in every seconds that he is her father. Then Emily realized that she had a brother named Edward, who prefers to be called Ed than Eddie, and the other guy who she had imagined to look like River when she was still in ward, was her younger brother named Aaron. In fact, he wasn’t even close to look like River or even Keanu Reeves. Emily sighed. River came into her room today, stared into her eyes like he was searching something in it, and tell her that she could not remember her family, her birth date, her social security numbers, and even the name of flowers. Emily admitted that she did not remember any of it, but who is River actually? He did say that he used to be a doctor, so maybe he worked in the same hospital as Dr Strokes. But Dr Strokes didn’t know anyone by the name River. It all summed up in her mind and the conclusion was none.
“Honey, dinner’s ready.”
Emily jumped slightly and turned around.
“Okay,” she nodded and watched as Murray closed the door. She drew near to the window. The scenery was not at all breathtaking; it showed the back yard of Roseville house, and the streets. It was raining hardly outside. There was no one in the streets not even a dog. Afterwards, she saw a man in a black cloak standing by the streetlamps, without an umbrella. Emily gaped at his figure for a little while, before she realized that the man was looking at her too, smiling in the rain. She frowned and looked intently at him.
“River...” she murmured under her breath.
Then Emily jumped again as Murray opened the door, asking her to come down. When she glanced back at the streets, the glimpse of the black cloaked man had gone.
DOROTHY stood beside the sink longer than she thought she would. She had cried for the ninetieth time today. She never thought she could lose her only daughter for real this time. Emily did blackmail her about wanting to leave the family forever when they argued about some stupid things like Emily’s relationships with men. But that was five years ago. Before Emily had been unconscious for three years afterwards. The Emily who returned home yesterday wasn’t the same Emily that she had quarreled with. Emily used to be a wild spirited girl, who believed in superstitious thing like wishing boats, shooting stars, or even ghosts. Dorothy did not have a problem with that, but Emily also believed in love at first sight. Dorothy could not handle when it comes to Emily’s love relationships. She remembered the first time Emily brought a guy friend to their house, it happened when Emily was aged 23 years old. That was the same guy that she said she had madly fell in love with.
Dorothy took a clean glass and turned on the pipe. The crystal-clear water came out of it, then she drank slowly. Her eyes were puffy from all the tears she dried up last night. She was home alone, with Emily and Murray were out, Edward had to go back to New York, and Aaron still hadn’t been home yet. She looked around, the kitchen was spotless. There were several cutleries hanging on the wall, several photos were glued on the refrigerator by magnets. It still had Emily’s first drawing on it. Dorothy looked intently on the drawing. Emily drew a picture of them, she wrote silly things on it like “the greatest family in the world is living with me” and she also wrote each one of their names clumsily. Just by looking at the drawing, it was enough to make Dorothy smile every time she glanced at it.
“Dorothy?”
Dorothy spun around in shock.
“Oh, hi honey. When did you get back? I didn’t hear you were coming.”
Quickly Dorothy approached her daughter and hugged her.
“Just now. What are you doing?”
Dorothy gazed at her. Emily looked different, her straight burgundy hair was now tidied up and her face looked healthier than yesterday although she still looked pale.
“Nothing, Em. I was just looking at your old pictures on the fridge.”
Emily went pass Dorothy to go near the fridge. She saw a girl that looked like her in those pictures, but she felt like that was another girl. She felt that awkwardness of looking at her own picture every time the family showed her one. She gazed down at the drawing under the several of magnetic alphabets.
“You drew that when you were three.” Dorothy meddled in.
Slowly Emily touched the paper, she could feel the roughness of the crayons on her fingertips.
“It’s not like a Picasso or anything, but it’s your favorite.”
Emily beamed at Dorothy.
“What’s a Picasso?”
“He’s a famous painter, more like an artiste. His artworks worth millions and millions of dollars.”
Emily smiled again.
“Art? What’s it like?”
Dorothy paused, and then smiling.
“I’ll show you some other time, dear.”
“Oh, I was coming here to tell you that Murray was looking for you. He’s in the living room.”
The smile on Dorothy’s face faded, causing Emily to apologize.
“Dorothy, please don’t kill yourself, I am here and I’m trying to find myself again, okay?”
Dorothy let out a laugh.
“Who told you I was going to kill myself?”
“Aaron did.”
Still laughing, Dorothy took her daughter’s hand and they were both pacing into the living room. At that time, Emily felt a sensation like she was now home again.
She approached the picture frames slowly; her back was still aching whenever she tried to walk any faster. There were pictures of a little girl riding on a pony, the very same girl smiling and waving at the camera, and baby pictures of the same girl too. Emily frowned, nothing came burst into her memory from just looking at those pictures. She now, know that the lady who claimed to be her mother named Dorothy, the silvery moustache man named Murray who told her in every seconds that he is her father. Then Emily realized that she had a brother named Edward, who prefers to be called Ed than Eddie, and the other guy who she had imagined to look like River when she was still in ward, was her younger brother named Aaron. In fact, he wasn’t even close to look like River or even Keanu Reeves. Emily sighed. River came into her room today, stared into her eyes like he was searching something in it, and tell her that she could not remember her family, her birth date, her social security numbers, and even the name of flowers. Emily admitted that she did not remember any of it, but who is River actually? He did say that he used to be a doctor, so maybe he worked in the same hospital as Dr Strokes. But Dr Strokes didn’t know anyone by the name River. It all summed up in her mind and the conclusion was none.
“Honey, dinner’s ready.”
Emily jumped slightly and turned around.
“Okay,” she nodded and watched as Murray closed the door. She drew near to the window. The scenery was not at all breathtaking; it showed the back yard of Roseville house, and the streets. It was raining hardly outside. There was no one in the streets not even a dog. Afterwards, she saw a man in a black cloak standing by the streetlamps, without an umbrella. Emily gaped at his figure for a little while, before she realized that the man was looking at her too, smiling in the rain. She frowned and looked intently at him.
“River...” she murmured under her breath.
Then Emily jumped again as Murray opened the door, asking her to come down. When she glanced back at the streets, the glimpse of the black cloaked man had gone.
DOROTHY stood beside the sink longer than she thought she would. She had cried for the ninetieth time today. She never thought she could lose her only daughter for real this time. Emily did blackmail her about wanting to leave the family forever when they argued about some stupid things like Emily’s relationships with men. But that was five years ago. Before Emily had been unconscious for three years afterwards. The Emily who returned home yesterday wasn’t the same Emily that she had quarreled with. Emily used to be a wild spirited girl, who believed in superstitious thing like wishing boats, shooting stars, or even ghosts. Dorothy did not have a problem with that, but Emily also believed in love at first sight. Dorothy could not handle when it comes to Emily’s love relationships. She remembered the first time Emily brought a guy friend to their house, it happened when Emily was aged 23 years old. That was the same guy that she said she had madly fell in love with.
Dorothy took a clean glass and turned on the pipe. The crystal-clear water came out of it, then she drank slowly. Her eyes were puffy from all the tears she dried up last night. She was home alone, with Emily and Murray were out, Edward had to go back to New York, and Aaron still hadn’t been home yet. She looked around, the kitchen was spotless. There were several cutleries hanging on the wall, several photos were glued on the refrigerator by magnets. It still had Emily’s first drawing on it. Dorothy looked intently on the drawing. Emily drew a picture of them, she wrote silly things on it like “the greatest family in the world is living with me” and she also wrote each one of their names clumsily. Just by looking at the drawing, it was enough to make Dorothy smile every time she glanced at it.
“Dorothy?”
Dorothy spun around in shock.
“Oh, hi honey. When did you get back? I didn’t hear you were coming.”
Quickly Dorothy approached her daughter and hugged her.
“Just now. What are you doing?”
Dorothy gazed at her. Emily looked different, her straight burgundy hair was now tidied up and her face looked healthier than yesterday although she still looked pale.
“Nothing, Em. I was just looking at your old pictures on the fridge.”
Emily went pass Dorothy to go near the fridge. She saw a girl that looked like her in those pictures, but she felt like that was another girl. She felt that awkwardness of looking at her own picture every time the family showed her one. She gazed down at the drawing under the several of magnetic alphabets.
“You drew that when you were three.” Dorothy meddled in.
Slowly Emily touched the paper, she could feel the roughness of the crayons on her fingertips.
“It’s not like a Picasso or anything, but it’s your favorite.”
Emily beamed at Dorothy.
“What’s a Picasso?”
“He’s a famous painter, more like an artiste. His artworks worth millions and millions of dollars.”
Emily smiled again.
“Art? What’s it like?”
Dorothy paused, and then smiling.
“I’ll show you some other time, dear.”
“Oh, I was coming here to tell you that Murray was looking for you. He’s in the living room.”
The smile on Dorothy’s face faded, causing Emily to apologize.
“Dorothy, please don’t kill yourself, I am here and I’m trying to find myself again, okay?”
Dorothy let out a laugh.
“Who told you I was going to kill myself?”
“Aaron did.”
Still laughing, Dorothy took her daughter’s hand and they were both pacing into the living room. At that time, Emily felt a sensation like she was now home again.