Forget Me Not, I'll Try

In the first week since I woke up they started to teach me to walk.

I had never been the sharpest knife in the drawer, but this was too easy for me.

In about two days I had learned to walk normally again, so I could now go for walks by myself.

I had occasional visits from Dave, Travis and Zac, rarely Xavier, sometimes my brothers, most of the time Will, even rarer my dad, but never ever ever my mother, but I didn't want to see her anyway.

I now remember everything I couldn't before, especially the things I think she wouldn't want me to remember in the first place.

I remember when I was six she called me an ungrateful little cow because I forgot to take the rubbish out or something.

When I was eight she slapped me for forgetting about my brothers when I packed lunch.

When I was nine she pushed me down a flight of stairs, I often forgot about the scars that left, when I remembered that I looked at my legs and found the scars, still there.

Then just last year when I was twelve, she slapped me and abused me in such a way when I remembered I found very shocking.

I still had scars from that too.

After I remembered all that and about a million other things I decided to count how many times she had abused me.

I counted four hundred and thirty nine times.

Thinking of my mother (thats right, I shall now call her mother because I don't see why I should call her mum) got me thinking, who's paying for all this?

I asked Will if he knew.

"my both my mum and your dad are" he said.

I spat out the drink I was drinking.

"What?" I asked out of disbelief.

"You heard right, my mum thinks your nice and shouldn't just be thrown out into the world just yet, and so does your dad, he had been meaning to take you to a doctor, but apparently your mum tells him not to waste his time and money, but it wouldn't have been a waste would it?" he saidquestingly.

"No, it wouldn't have been a waste, they would have found it and they would have said it needed to come out, and after I might have finally been able to make friends, but I guess even with my problem gone, it wouldn't have worked" I said, thoughtfully.

"Do you actually like your mum?" he asked.

"No, why would I? Now that 'it' is gone I can remember stuff that I know she would want forgotten, especially by me"

I then told him about all the times she had abused me, I saw his face change so suddenly.

"That is one of the most horriblest things I have ever heard" he said, he looked really angry.

I giggled and said "Horriblest isn't a word"

Curse my dumbness!

Next thing he said is "Doesn't the fact that your mum abused you bother you?"

"Are you kidding? It makes me just want to yell at her and call her a bitch right in her face, just from years of memory loss I just find it easy to forget something for now, nothing is ever truly forgotten, just takes a while to remember"

He just looked at me like I was crazy.

This is the most normal sort of day I've ever had.