Chapter One
Where Am I?: NYSSA
My eyes opened, and I was lookin' around, wonderin' at the same time where I was.
It looked like a room. A more familiar room I had ne'er been to, in fact. The toxic smell of injections and drips choked my nose, and I sat up, lookin' around one last time.
It was a hospital.
What was I doing here to begin with?
The door suddenly opened, scarin' me. More than enough thoughts ran around in my head, and I knew for once that the answers I was lookin' for were starin' right at me. "Darlin', you're awake."
Darlin'?
What darlin'?
"Wh-who-?" My voice lost - I was findin' it hard to recognize my own voice even. "Who are you?"
"You don't remember me, d'you?" He was standin' next to my bed, slightly touchin' my head. "How are you feelin'? Would you love some water, Nyssa?"
He knew my name.
"I don't know how I'm feelin'" I confessed as I sat up even more, covering' myslf with the coat. "Who are you?" A doctor perhaps, but I repeated in case he did not hear me correctly the first time. "What am I doin' here, too?"
"You had an accident, Nyssa," the handsome fella mouthed as he sat on the chair I recognized for the first time since I came awake. "You needed to be treated, so I brought you to the hospital, as you can see. I'm your husband, and my name is Kazmir."
Husband?
Husband?!
What husband?
I cracked, mopin' at 'im like a lost baby. "I don't have a husband, Mr. Kazmir. I have a feelin' you are in the wrong ward even though you got my name correctly."
"I'm not in the wrong ward–" he moped at me, almost angry. "You are my wife, and I'm your husband, Nyssa. Look - there is the ring on your finger. We exchanged vows almost two years ago, don't you get it?"
Wait.
I looked at my wedding finger.
He wasn't even joking.
From the look on his countenance, he was not tellin' a lie. How is this even possible?
"Wh-what happened?" I lay back on the bed. "I think I lost my senses. Do I-do I have amnesia?"
"I-" he sounded. "This is not the time for this conversation, baby."
That tickle, right there in my stomach.
The handsome fella referred to me as his baby.
My husband, rather.
"What then is wrong with me?" I was lookin' at the door guardin' the space, and a man in white coat walked right through it, leadin' his way to the bed corner and touchin' my neck with a smile on his fine face.
"Mrs. Draven, how do you feel?"
Draven had to be the name of my husband. His surname, perhaps. Even though all of these were new to me, I nodded and played along, realizin' I must have lost my senses in the accident.
Must have been a dreadful one.
How bad was it?
"I don't know how I feel," I sat up. "I think I have lost my senses. Can someone tell me what happened before I was brought here? Or rather, what happened before the accident. What happened?" I looked at my 'husband', waitin' for a response - the kind of response that would give all the answers I need and even help recover my senses in the process.
I cannot have amnesia.
Even if I do, it wasn't supposed to last for so long.
Or was it?
How can I not remember the life I used to have? What was this 'bout? Losin' one's mind all of a sudden and startin' life all over again with a man I can't recognize? Was I being scammed? Was this some kind of joke? Even if it was, why can't I remember anythin' at all? - somethin' that happened before my new life that has chosen to take place in this manner.
My head hurt from all my thoughts.
"You were-" my 'husband' began. "You were on your way to someplace when I was phoned from the house that you were involved in an accident. The next time I saw you, it was in this room. The driver is in another ward - I can show 'im to you if you want to see 'im."
My head started poundin', louder than ever, but it was lookin' as though I was the only person who could hear it. If there was a driver, then none of this was some foul play I wouldn't like.
"You need all the rest you can get, Mrs. Draven," the doctor who let myself and Kazmir communicate, inserted himself back into the conversation. "A nurse will be assigned to you as soon as I leave here. Let her know if you want anythin'."
Should I be grateful?
"Thank you, Mr-"
"Mr. Martin," he was smilin' as he took account in his register. "I'll be back to check on you." He said again by the time he was done, touchin' the drip bottle and walkin' to a corner where another drip bottle was picked and replacin' the former.
"I'm hungry."
"Right away, honey," Kazmir, a man I was yet to recognize or rather, see through, got on his feet and walked away from the space, leavin' myself and the doctor starin' at each other.
The next time I set my eyes on Kazmir, I admired his features. In the clothin' he was puttin' on, it looked like he had enough abs and packs hidin' behind it. His fine face complimented his smile and eyes that screamed handsomeness charmed me, forcin' me to sit up and take the flask he came with.
"This is for you," he took a seat on the chair, and Mr. Martin was walkin' away from the ward. "I forgot to bring it with me when I arrived in the car. You got me so worried, Nyssa. Why did you leave the house? Even if you did, what happened to tellin' me before leavin'?" His worried gaze made me sad, and I wished for the second time since I woke up that I had all the answers.
It would help not only 'im but myself as well. "I don't even know what you're talking 'bout, Kazmir," I practiced callin' 'im by his name. "I can't remember who I'm; talk more 'bout what happened before the unfortunate accident. If only you can let me know 'bout who and who was around me before it happened, I might come up with an answer for you."
"Don't bother," he said and was on his feet, headin' to the door. He turned around to look at me. "I'll be back, Nyssa. I need to speak with Mr. Martin."
Alone, I was left in the space.
Many thoughts ran through my head. The more I was thinkin' 'bout it, the more confused I was. Am I dreamin'? I thought, openin' the flask I took from my 'husband' a while ago and lookin' into it.
I took the spoon hangin' inside the space of the flask and started eatin' after relaxin' my head on the pillow, even though the thoughts did not stop comin'. The next time the door opened, Kazmir was walkin' his way through and into the room, smiling' - giving me hopes of remembrance.
"What is it?"
"We can leave for our home as soon as tomorrow evenin', Mr. Martin says," he let out, takin' the flask from me and placin' it on the table. "We can return to our home and live life like we used to - while I see to it that you remember who you are. You are a testimony, Nyssa - lucky to be alive."
Indeed, this was a miracle.
But at the same time, it doesn't change the fact that I was lost, confused, and unsure 'bout what to do. Do I trust Mr. Kazmir Draven enough to go to his apartment, even when I don't recognize 'im, or should I run away and find out what my life used to be 'bout?
