I Don't Need My Memory to Remember that Smile

Last week was when I fell from the sky and landed on this unfamiliar

place. Honestly I don’t know how I got here but until I figure out that’s

what Im believeing.They told me my name was Violet, but I don’t feel

like a Violet. My hair is dark black, not violet. I’m pale with no color,

no violet shows on my face when I laugh or cry. So I haven’t quite

accepted the fact that I’m supposedly Violet. My doctor told me that the

man that found me was going to be my guardian until my memory

came back. His name is Alekzander; he’s polish, because that’s where I

am. Some scary, and way too white and boring hospital in Poland. I

lost my memory and all they know about me are: One- I may be

named Violet, and Two- where ever they found me I was clutching a

baby to my chest. They estimated that she was only one and I could only be as old as twenty-two,

though I’m certain I’m older; I can feel it. Alekzander is picking me up today out of the hospital. I’m

just wondering why he’s so nice to me and the little girl that was found with me. He comes and

talks to me every day and tells me story’s about where he lives and stories of his past. Alek is only

twenty-three and has done so much with his life. I’ve asked him many times if we’ve met before

this, but he’s adamant about saying no, but I just feel that he’s always been there. This will be my

last entry until I can get something that’s better than a hospital napkin. Let’s hope the next time I

write I actually know my name.

Monday the fifth I think, 1999.