Disasterology

Another week has passed and I’m slowly getting more information about myself and the life that I led.

Apparently I work at a music store with Vic, Andy, Mike (who is Vic’s younger brother), and Oliver (who is Andy’s boyfriend) during the week. I’m a musician. As weird as it might be, I didn’t forget how to play the guitar, but I have this nagging feeling that I played another instrument.

I also learned that I have a degree in Fine Arts and Music from college. No surprise there I guess.

My birthday is April 24th, 1986. I remember that pretty clearly now, but I’m still iffy on the fact that the day after my birthday, I wake up in the hospital, clueless. And that’s another thing…

No one will tell me why I was in the hospital in the first place, and I plan to find out one way or another.

I was walking around the house, trying to familiarize myself with it. It was going pretty well, until I stopped in front of a room when I heard sniffling and the sound of scrubbing come from it.

“Come out…please come out…!”

It’s Vic’s voice, no doubt about that. But the scrubbing? I don’t think a stain is something to cry about.
The door opened and I nearly had a heart attack. He stepped out of the room and locked the door behind him.

“You know…a stain or whatever isn’t something to get upset about.” He squeaked and dropped the key.
I must have scared him.
I tried to smile at him but he only looked at me with red puffy eyes, pain hidden behind them. He shook his head as he picked up the key and walked off.

I stood there, dumbfounded. Then I turned back to look at the locked door.

I shivered…wait…why did I just shiver…?

No…I felt something from that room. An uneasy feeling that I don’t want to remember…

I walked downstairs to find that Vic had left. He left a note on the refrigerator.

“Went to Andy’s place to pick up something. I’ll be back soon. —Vic”

I sighed. He could’ve just talked to me about what he was upset about…
Then again…he really couldn’t. I wouldn’t understand at all…

I walked upstairs into the bathroom.
I might as well take these bandages off now. My injuries should be healed.
I took off my shirt before I grabbed the scissors from the drawer.

I cut and gingerly peeled away the bandages until there were none left.
My eyes widened as I looked at myself.

Cuts…there were cuts everywhere…some larger than others.

Then…there was the huge scar from a gash on my stomach…
I bit down on my lip as I gently rubbed the scars with my fingers.

What…what happened to me…?

I screamed out in frustration.

Why can’t I remember?! Why the hell can’t I remember?! How can I f**king trust if any of this is right?!
I punched the wall, hearing something shatter seconds later.

I walked into the room and saw the picture of me and Vic kissing, on the floor broken.

The small amounts of proof were pictures, but even that’s shattering right in front of me.

Anger started to boil inside me.

“Kellin…?”

My head snapped towards the direction of the voice. Vic stood in the doorway, a worried look on his face.

“What happened to me…? Why won’t anyone tell me?! I deserve to know! Why do I have all of these f**king scars?! Huh?!” He flinched slightly as I raised my voice, fear in his eyes.
My anger increased.
“Answer me, God dammit!!!”

“Be honest with yourself, Kellin. Do you really want to know what happened? Would you really want to remember?”

He just stared at me, his eyes seemed so cold. He looked so broken.
I bit down on my lip.

He’s right.

The injuries can prove that something bad happened to me, and maybe it was better that I didn’t know.

He walked past me and started to pick up the broken glass from the floor.
“Next time you get angry, at least talk to me before you start breaking stuff. Especially stuff that’s important…”

Guilt shot through me quickly.

I knelt down next to him and helped him pick up the glass.
“I’m sorry…I’m really sorry…”

He leaned in closer and pressed his lips against mine. I only sat there, frozen in place.

This…it feels so wrong…but so right at the same time…

I broke the kiss and threw the glass shards into the trash before I left the room.
Maybe just leaving him after he kissed me wasn’t a great idea…

But…I just need to get my head and my emotions together…

If that’s even possible…