The Sinister Silhouette

My brain is a jumbled mess. I remember my parents and my little sister. I remember my childhood and my teen years. I was a lonely child. Not because my parents kept me sheltered, but because I was just so shy. I met my best and only friend when I was eight. I remember her dying at fifteen in a car accident, along with her parents. After Melanie died, I never made any more friends. By then, my sister, Teresa, was four years old, and it was her that I opted to play with, even though she was just a toddler. I remember graduating high school and being excited about going to Westerly to get my degree in interior design, something that I had dreamed about for years.

According to the doctor and my last memories, that was almost eight years ago, and seven of those years I was in a coma. I don’t remember the five or so months prior to the accident. I get little splotchy glimpses, but they’re too faint for me to understand the meaning of them. I don’t know if it’s because they aren’t really memories, or if they are, it’s been so long since they happened that they’re fading away. I’m too scared to wish them back, but I’m also curious about them. The doctor informed me I may never remember, or they could all rush back at any minute. I’m not sure which one I want to happen more.

I think back to when I woke a week ago. At first, I was so disoriented that all I could do was focus on the white ceiling. I had no idea who I was or where I was. My mind was a complete blank. I don’t know how long I stared at the ceiling, but something caught my eye. When I looked over and saw a man standing by my bed, unsurmounta

ble fear slammed inside me. I didn’t understand why, but the strange man by my bed, staring at me in surprise, terrified me.

I screamed and screamed until my voice was hoarse and the doctor shot something in my IV that made me sleepy. I needed him away from me. I needed to feel safe again, and he was anything but safe. I was confused, but I just knew the man was going to hurt me.

The doctor said I slept for thirty-six hours after that, and when I woke up, the man was gone. A day later, he was back, except he looked different. Or rather, his hair was different. I still felt the fear, but it wasn’t the same as before. This fear was from the unknown. I didn’t know the man, but I felt like I should know him.

He looked scared too as he watched me with his strange blue eyes. They were a bright, clear blue, with a darker blue ring around the outside edges. He watched me like he was expecting something. Like he feared something.

When he opened his mouth to talk, I opened mine to scream, then slammed it shut when he quietly said the word “Jules” reverently. I knew the name. It was my name. That was when memories of the past started filtering through my mind. Not my past with the man, but before him.

He stood and stared at me as I processed the memories flooding in. When my eyes focused back on his, I noticed a nurse standing beside him, watching me with worried eyes.

The man cleared his throat. My body tensed, and he asked with a hoarse voice, “Do you know who I am?”

I wracked my brain, searching through all the memories that just crowded inside me, but no matter how much I scanned them, none held him.

I shook my head.

Something darkened the man’s eyes, and the look shot a shiver down my spine. Before I could show my fear, the nurse walked forward to check my vital signs. As she did so, the man introduced himself as Theo.

“I’m your husband.”

Those words had the monitor going haywire because they frightened me. There was no way this man, a man I had never seen before, was my husband. There was no way I would forget something like that.

“No!” I yelled.

Pain shot through my temple, and I screamed with the force of it. I wanted him to leave, so I screamed at him to do so. Thankfully he did, but I saw the confusion on his face before he turned away.

A day later, he came back, carrying a marriage certificate with both our names on it. For some reason, seeing those names on that paper, bonding us legally together, didn’t feel right. It hurt me to see it. I felt so lost and alone, despite the fact that I was apparently married, and my husband was right there beside me, looking at me with an emotion I couldn’t place.

That was three days ago, and each day he’s come back. He tells me stuff we’ve done, about the short time we were together. He’s also talked about the attack that resulted in my coma due to a brain injury.

I’m still afraid to be near him, even though he’s been very kind and understanding of my hesitancy toward him, but I’m slowly working on getting used to him. I’m curious about the other man, who Theo told me is his twin. He didn’t tell me his name, but there was heat in his eyes when I asked about him. Heat, anger, and fear. The combination had me shrinking away and regretting I asked.

Theo shifts in his chair, but his electric-blue eyes don’t leave mine.

“How are you feeling today?” he asks, keeping his tone soft.

I lick my dry lips and really think about my words before answering. After being in a coma for so long, I sometimes struggle a little trying to form words and they come out slow and stilted. “I’m… okay. My headaches ar-aren’t as bad, and my… energy is… coming back more and more.”

He nods. “That’s good. Real good. What does your physical therapist say?”

“Sh-she said she’s… surprised I’m doing so well.”

I pull in a breath, already winded from saying only a few words. I’m told I’m doing better than the doctors expected after being in a coma for so long. They expected my motor functions, and my ability to talk and think normally would be drastically declined, and they are to an extent, but most people in cases such as mine are worse off. Some don’t fully recover, and some only make very few improvements. Dr. Kline, the attending physician, was surprised I woke up at all, and he said with the speed of my progress so far, there’s a good chance I’ll fully recover.

“How’s walking going?” Theo inquires curiously.

I pull my knees to my chest and wrap my arms around them. He watches the movement, then lifts his eyes back to me.

When I try to talk again, it comes out cracked, which causes me to cough. Theo jumps up and grabs the cup of water, and the sudden movement has me tensing. Sensing it, he freezes in place for a moment, before slowing his steps to the bed, and holds the cup out to me. I don’t want him so close to me, but I force away the urge to scoot over to the other side of the bed. This man is my husband, and although I don’t remember him, I need to try to get over my fear of him.

I swallow away the lump of fear, and tentatively reach out for the cup, then mutter, “Th-thanks.”