They obviously had a hard time reliving what’d happened. Mum’s knuckles had turned white around Dad’s hand and her eyes glossed over.
“The smoke was so thick and when I think back I can still feel how suffocating it was. The whole of the ground floor was in flames; we made it out of the back door. Your grandparents made it out the back window from where they were sleeping on a sofa bed in the dining room. I think if we’d have been just minutes later we’d have been trapped there. Your mum collapsed to the ground when we got out. Neighbours had come to help. You screamed the entire time, Scarlett. By the time we got you on the lawn to check you over, you were out and didn’t come to until a few hours later in the hospital. When you woke, you remembered nothing.”
“Why was I the only one in the hospital?”
“We all went, sweetheart,” Mum said. “We all had inhaled smoke and needed to see a doctor but because you were in such a state you inhaled a lot more and you were very young.”
“Okay. Then what happened?”
“Then we had to start again. We tried everything we could to get you to remember. We were told that familiar things might jog your memory but we lost everything to the fire. I’m sorry, sweetheart, we tried therapy and we spent every night for a long time telling you stories of your past but nothing helped.”
I remembered them telling me stories. But not being in the hospital. The earliest thing I could recall was being curled up on a sofa with them while Jeremy told me about a hamster we’d had. There was one thing that bugged me, if Evelyn was a doll I’d had, why was now the first time I was hearing of it? Surely they would have mentioned her if they went through everything in my past to try to help me remember.
Something was definitely off, and I couldn’t help thinking that my parents were lying to me.
“What did the doll look like?” I asked.
“Um,” Mum said, “she wore a dress and had brown hair, I think.”
So did the girl I saw when I was waking up. Either my fuzzy mind made her a human or I was remembering a girl I’d known before and they weren’t telling the truth. At this point, I had no idea.
“Why didn’t you tell me about it before?
Dad frowned. “We did but it was clear that talking about your toys wasn’t helping you to remember so I guess we just concentrated on the more important things like family and things we’d done together.”
“Did you take me back to the house?”
“No, by the time you had calmed down enough to talk and interact with us again the house was gone. There was too much damage so the landlord had it torn down and he built three houses on the land.”
Completely possible, but I wasn’t sure I believed it.
“Why do you think your dreams a of something that’s happened?” Mum asked.
“I don’t know, it feels different,” I replied.
“So, you don’t just think because Noah has said a few things about how strange it is to have no recollection of four years of your life that you’re slotting perfectly normal things into something that makes sense, or no sense, of that time you lost?” Dad said.
I only just understood what he meant and it was possible. It’d been a long time since I gave up letting it bug me but since Noah, I was trying to remember again.
“Honey, I know it is strange and frustrating but it doesn’t make you different to anyone else,” Mum said.
“This isn’t about fitting in. Noah hasn’t said anything horrible about it or me.”
“Good,” Dad said, raising his eyebrows and sitting back in the seat. “So, the hypnotherapy didn’t work, is there anything else you’d like to try?”
Sighing, I ran my hands through my unruly hair. “I don’t know. I don’t want to obsess about it anymore, it’s tiring, but it does bother me that I don’t know.”
“Would you like to work on seeing if you can remember or learning how to let it go, again?” Dad asked.
I’d let it go before. When I was eleven and determined to remember. It was useless and Mum and Dad spent a lot of time helping me come to terms with the knowledge that I probably wouldn’t ever get those memories back. It was a difficult time where I argued with my parents a lot, even though it wasn’t their fault. I had no desire to thrust us back to that.
“Let it go,” I said with a defeated sigh. “I want to let it go again.”
Mum smiled. “I think that’s a wise choice. And you never know, you may remember one day. You’re most likely to when you’re not stressing over it.”
“Yeah, maybe.”
I didn’t feel like I would remember, though. I wished I could let it go as I had before. This time was different; I had something to hold onto. My memories as I woke created real hope.
“What do you need from us?” Mum asked.
I need you to tell the truth.
“Nothing,” I said. “Can we just forget this happened and I’ll stop letting some stupid dreams eat away at me.”
Mum smiled, swallowing hard. “Of course, we can.”