In search of truth

-
The door to the emergency ward flung open and I was rushed in. I was a blood ridden corpse. The doctors were panicking but kept a cool demeanor on their faces. They say that I was hit hard in the prefrontal cortex and Amygdala. This was very difficult to treat and survive. The doctors thought I couldn't make it, hopelessly, they continued the surgery. I was barely clinging to life, as my pulse started to drop. But after twenty long minutes of surgery and effort, It finally paid off. My Pulse increased to normal which averted a Brain failure and pulled me away from imminent and literally ' grave danger '. 

All things move with time, Time is the all-powerful substance. For a person who has survived such a brutal accident, would retain only two things as time passes. The memory of the accident and the scars on the body if there are any. Well, My case is complex, or should I say simple? I just retain the scars. Yep, It's true, I have suffered from a chronic memory loss, should I even say suffer? It was just a matter of a second, and I was plunged into the consciousness of a newborn and became a white, blank page. Then how? you ask, that I remember my accident? I do know it because that is exactly what my stepfather and stepmother told me, a million times when I asked them. 

I'm Candice Summers and I spent my sweet sixteen on a hospital bed. I'm seventeen now and I attend my college at Evergreek hollow. I spend most of my time alone though. I didn't know anything, I was reborn. I tried to remember who I was, before the accident. But every time I did,  I came up with nothing. I look out the window to see....nothing. I try to think of something, something which is almost as good as nothing to think about.

 The accident had caused a few concerns with my academics, so I spent a great deal of time reading books of my previous classes. They tell me that after I regained consciousness at the hospital, I didn't even know what a pen was. I acted like a baby, innocent. I took up arts in college. Funny why I did that. Prior to the accident, Did I like arts? Did I have friends? Who were my parents? my step-parents are ' Smiths '  and I am a ' Summers '. What is Science? Did Shakespeare exist? Every time, I tried to think of those questions, I would be blank. 

My, so-called ' friends ' do not talk to me. Did I study at Evergreek before the accident? I think they don't talk to me because I keep thinking stuff. They think I'm crazy to try to think of something, that I remember and end up remembering nothing at all. That, or either they just pity me. I relate to my dog, Lucy. The vet said that she could not talk or bark, pronounced her ' dumb '. I relate to her because we can't express our feelings or ask questions to anyone. We spent a lot of time together. I don't know abstract emotions like love, anger, pain. 


I don't feel like I even belong in my body. There is a quote,  '' There's more to see in a person than what meets the eye ''. Well, I see nothing, except a disturbed soul. What did I do before all this? Where was I? Who was I? Better yet, Who am I? I was reborn. I'm sure I died in that accident, but I am reborn in the same body. I have a purpose. If god, gave me another chance, I have a purpose to fulfill. The Mystic being that we named, ' God ', has many forms. I have many forms. Am I a god? I look out the window to see a white, blank portion of my mind. Am I even Candice Summers? I don't know and I don't quite remember. I will keep hope and continue in the path of searching for the truth. 

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Book Review

-
Image
  Robert Dugoni's, '' My sister's grave '' is a mix of mind-boggling questions and twists. Dugoni's impeccable way of making the protagonist, Tracy Crosswhite, ask the questions coming from the readers as they read. Both Tracy and the readers on the same step throughout the story, knowing only that much of uncovered.    Reminiscent past times, humor, all make a good base for a thriller novel. The utter boldness of characters, ferocity on a peak, but timely pecks the more emotional venture. Slipping in-jokes, during the most crucial court hearings, the soft side of the aggressive dogs, and most importantly, the geography of the novel.   A Setting of the northern Cascade mountains. The best site for campers, ranges, and hikers. Or eventually a site for a missing person presumed dead.    The plot - Young Sarah Crosswhite goes missing for nearly 20 years. cross-state, border Searches conducted months into her disappearance availed no boon. Only to find Sarah...
Read more

The Coat Hanger

-
Image
It is just a mere thing during the day that everyone owns, but at night it looks like an entity or is it one? The coat hanger serves one purpose, to bear the hanging clothes or more specifically coats. I love a collection of black or brown, maybe beige-colored coats, it differentiates my personality from others. But during the night, there may be any color or even ' the white ' but it all fades into one shade at night, Darkness, the shade of no life and in my case, solitude.  I live all alone in my cozy apartment in complete luxury and bliss until the day I paid attention to my coat hanger. It looked like a figure, but shapeless. It felt like it was looking at me, glaring at me, sensing each of my movements. I thought I was being paranoid ( The state of being overcome with fear and anxiety ).  Each night, I kept glaring back at it and it did the same. As nights passed, the once shapeless entity seemed to form shapes, more like a figure of a person, similar to that of a...
Read more

A Blank Paper

-
A reflection of one's self I am. longing to be scripted. To pour out bottled up ink from your heart. With your pen as the dart. Papers, propaganda, and broadcast, All flies as time does. I remain still, still like the river that doesn't ripple and getting crippled. It is only I dear, that knows your battle. A battle with hatred... But If you'd like to be treated... You know where I'd lay Let it all out, child. For there is nothing to hide. Write...my dear, write the depth of your shallows and bring light to the hollows. For you can't drown, because I am the mast of the ship. And only you matter...my sole sailor Don't be a jailor... Fill my white void with the darkness in your heart, And I promise I will play the part And keep it in my heart secretly... A blank white paper is all that you need.
Read more