The secret is mine

The cup of coffee Sandy held in her hands was warm enough to chase away the goosebumps that had now invaded her skin. She was scared. She knew she needed to do this. Her parents told her it was important. It was just on paper anyways, she was not being forced to have an actual relationship. She could not imagine that. For some reason, the thought of being with someone, sharing yourself with them, being vulnerable, being accessible scared her. She wasn’t going to date him. She was only going to get married to him in the books. “Ma, please could you help us take a picture? She was dug out of her thoughts by the gentleman that tapped her shoulder, holding up a camera to her. He was with what seemed to be his family. His wife and his kids. The woman, presumably his wife, was dressed in a hospital gown just like herself. They looked happy and somewhat relieved. They were probably taking a picture to remember this obstacle they conquered later in the future or maybe their mother was dying and they had made peace with it but wanted to take one last photo together. It could be anything, Sandy thought to herself. It was admirable but For some reason, she didn’t envy or admire them. The thought of family made her feel uneasy. “ Yes, of course. I would love to help” Sandy smiled broadly, taking the camera from him and keeping aside her cup of coffee. Her smile looked so genuine that it could have been argued in a courtroom that it was not fake. The scenery was beautiful. The grass below their feet was green and fresh. A tree hovering above them, big and magnificent with happy-looking leaves. It was summer. Everyone basked in the glory of summer. Everyone loved the heat of the summer but here Sandy was, drinking a warm cup of coffee in the hottest season of the year. “Here you go” Sandy handed them the camera with a smile. She picked her cup up from the bench she had been seated on, tossed it into the trash can, and started down the walkway back to the hospital, clutching her clutch between her left arm and armpit. ………………………………. She looked out the rusted window in her tiny room. The stars had already come out to camp in the sky. The night looked dark and lonely and the distant sound of gunshots somehow kept her company, and less lonely. Her door flung open violently. “He’s here Randa. He’s here.” Panic set in as they both rushed under the broken table in the corridor covered by a thick cheque print fabric. They whimpered as they heard his staggering drunk footsteps get closer and closer and… “If you stupid lots let me find you myself, I will, I will….” He slurred. Too drunk to find his words. “I will break your neck with these hands, bury you then dance on your grave” He laughed slurringly but bold enough to send shivers down their spines. “Sandy you better come out or your sister will spend the night in my bed. You know your mother is away and you know I get lonely very easily” His voice is dark and lustful. “Please don’t go, Sandy” Randa whispers in a trembling and scared voice. “I’ll be fine. Just stay under here and be quiet. Do not come out no matter what you hear” Sandy hugged her sister briefly, wiped her tears, and came out. “I’m here” She announced, hiding the fear she felt tugging at her throat. She stood away from the table, closer to the kitchen. “There you are, my pretty.” He appeared next to her in one stride. He had a big frame and very long legs. He stared into her eyes with a smirk. Those eyes were void of any human soul. The smell of alcohol flooded her nostrils and she could feel the dry sandwich she ate for dinner and lunch coming up. His clothes were reeked of alcohol. “ You look so much like your mother even though you are still a teenager” He staggered around her caressing her hair and making his way down her shoulders. “But do you know what? I have never really examined bor sister ” His words were almost incoherent and wrongly pronounced. “Don’t you dare touch my sister? You asked for me and here I am.” “You car so feisty girl. Only if you could show that to me in my room” He said as he pushed her to a wall. “I will let you show me that tomorrow but for today, it is your sister I desire.” “I said…..” Sandy could feel the rusty taste of blood in her mouth after the loud ring of the slap stung her ears. Her cheeks felt instantly swollen and sore. “It seems to me that you have forgotten who I am. I think maybe I have been too lenient with you” He wrapped his large palms around her neck and lifted her. “Do you think you can tell me who or not I will have” “Leave my sister alone” Randa charged at him. He tossed Sandy to the floor in an instant and sent Randa flying into the old wood that held up the kitchen sink, with a slap. It felt as if he unlocked a new level of strength each time he got drunk. “RANDA!!!!!!” Sandy cried crawling over to her sister. “I’m fine.” Randa winced as she tried to move. Sandy mustered up all the strength she had left and got up. She picked up a knife from the counter and charged towards him. ………………………………… The smell of honey oats filled the room and it instantly made him upset. “This is the exact reason I hate coming here” Ford muttered under his breath taking a sip of his black coffee without milk. He couldn’t do without remembering that annoyingly sunny day whenever he took in the smell of honey oats. It used to be his favorite breakfast but quickly became his worst. He vividly remembered seeing his mother secretly crying in the attic. She didn’t want her kids to see her weak. She wanted to be strong for them even when it hurt so bad. That morning she was in the kitchen, making breakfast. The house favorite. Honey and oats, when an averagely built man visited the house. No one knew who he was but when he left the house, that was when Ford found his mother secretly crying. His father had run away from home and abandoned them but not without leaving his mother heavily in debt and homeless. It was an incredibly difficult time for her. Left with three kids to take care of on her own while trying to pay off the debts her husband had left in her name. Ford was the first born out of the three boys. He had to mature quickly even though he was only six years older than his immediate junior brother. The last child was only four and so required a lot of attention at that stage of his life. His mother had to do many menial jobs and take double shifts while he juggled school and a part-time job. He could have never imagined the life he had now, seventeen years ago. His mother had managed to start up a big company in New York which was now a big shot and had various branches around the country. She had retired two years ago and Ford was the one that called the shots now. He was the CEO of the company. As much as he hated coming to the breakfast bar downtown, by the university, they served black coffee exactly how he liked it. With enough caffeine to give him a jump start to his day. Ford taps the screen of his phone to reveal the time. On seeing it, he jolts up. He was going to be late for the board meeting scheduled at 9 AM. In a bid to rush out of the breakfast bar, he bumps into a young lady that seemed to be in her mid-twenties. She looked about 5 '5, Latino, with light brown eyes, dark curly hair, and slightly thick eyebrows. “I am very sorry sir” She tries to apologize, but he is already gone out the door. ………………………………… The bells above her head ring, announcing her presence in the highly populated tattoo shop. It was the most popular place for getting tattoos in town. “Hey Joe” Randa beamed walking over to the bald chubby man with tattoos mapped all over his skin. He was standing in a secluded corner where he had his little office where he relaxed or registered bookings. “Randa! I haven’t seen you in forever” Joe says. “I guess you can say that I have been busy setting up” Randa said as she took a seat opposite of him. “Setting up?” He lifts an eyebrow, his tone motioning for her to go into details. “Yes, I will be going abroad for my master's” She replies. “Oh, so did you come to say goodbye or there is something else?” He asks. “Well I want to get another tattoo and say goodbye too” She sits up and her voice becomes darker and more serious. Tattoos were significant to Randa. She had one and she had gotten it in remembrance of her sister. It was a text written in many weatz font, of her sister’s name, Sandy. It made her feel like Sandy lived in her and it was her way of appreciating everything Sandy was. “What are we getting today?” He asked, adjusting to the mood. “It's a date. My dad’s birthday. I want to celebrate this day every year without forgetting. It’s also the day he passed on. I have spent all these years loathing that date because it was a constant reminder that he was gone. But from now on, I want to celebrate him that day and be happy” “I got you” “04.10” She said the date. “When are you leaving?” He asks, setting up a chair. “Soon. I just need to be sure of my setup over there before departing.” Randa replies, getting on the chair. “So, where to?” He asks, taking a seat next to her, tools in hand. Randa takes a deep breath before letting out a sigh. “New York City” She had picked New York City because of the high population of people that resided there. She believed it would be easier to blend into the crowd. She had gone for all the required interviews and filled out dozens of forms and paid money over and over to different people in the same agency. Walter had told her she’d been lucky and would have paid much more if he hadn’t paved the way for her. She was going to try and settle down this time, And not continue running, in fear that her stepdad was after her. He had been put in prison over five years ago, but anytime Randa closed her eyes, she could see him standing over her, breathing down her neck, touching her with his filthy hands. That was why she cried in her sleep, most of the time. She always woke up with a wet face and eyes filled with residue. The tears eventually felt normal to her. She found it strange anytime she woke up with a dry face. She had applied as a student going for a master's degree in psychology. Randa was the smartest in her class growing up and everyone always thought she would study something like health and medicine or anything that involved practicality, but the human mind intrigued her more than the human body. She wondered why some people acted in certain ways and if it was a neurological response or something of that sort. She was interested in how much power the human mind held over the human body, And how maybe what was on the human mind could affect physical activities. She had applied to the University of Siza. Her student visa had an expiration date, which was after three years after, and if she still wanted to take permanent residency and stay in the country, she would renew her visa, this time seeking citizenship. Randa had made extensive plans for her residency. She had contacted a friend of a friend to get her a student residence near the campus and near a coffee shop where she could work part-time . Honestly, long term, Randa wasn’t completely sure of what she wanted for her future. She just enjoyed learning about people and how their mind works. ……………………………… Randa constantly looked at her wristwatch wrapped around her wrists as she ran down the streets of New York City in a frenzy. She was about to get a second strike for consecutively coming late for her shift. Her first and second half of the year working at the breakfast bar wasn’t like this. It was ironic that the more she settled in New York, the more all over the place things seemed to be. She had selected her classes for three days a week so that she could work full-time at the breakfast bar on the other days. Today, she wanted to blame the subway for her coming late but she knew that would do her no good. She was already viewed as the “last to arrive” staff and the only reason she still worked at the bar was because she was extremely hard working and dedicated and they just couldn’t let her go because of that. For the past couple of months, Randa had been trying to go through with the applications and registrations to officially take full residency in New York after her graduation but it was proving harder than she had expected. She spent late nights writing reports and trying to make research which messed up with her sleep schedule and started causing her to wake up late. Life here was harder than she bargained for. She thought she could survive with just one job but she later found out the hard way that she could not. She had already started to set money aside to start a little business. She wasn’t sure what type of business she wanted to start just yet. She only just had ideas. Scurrying down the road, she finally enters the 4th Av and instantly sights the big, yellow, and pink sign with the name TREATS BREAKFAST BAR written in bold. She practically bolts into the bar and is too late to stop her feet as she bumps into a gentleman. He looks wealthy, dressed in a black suit with a blue tie and a black coat over it. His facial features look defined. His nose was slender and subtly pointy, his jaw defined like he could stab someone with it, his eyes looking like almonds with a green nut inside, his eyelashes long enough to cut off and sell into the beauty market as lash extensions. He looked part Caucasian but mixed with something else. He had unmistakably golden brown hair. He looked like he was in his early 30s. Randa gasps immediately as she bumps into him. She looks up at this 6 ft god to offer an apology. “I am very sorry sir” But he is already halfway out the door. …………………………………….. “Latino Female. No form of identification. We suspect she is in her late 20s. Was found unresponsive at the scene of the accident. Blunt trauma to the head. Dislocated shoulder…..” The pediatrician updated the ER doctors as he rolled the stretcher she laid on into the ER, with the nurses assisting. “Page Doctor Robbin stat!” One of the doctors shouted, referring to a nurse. They transferred her to a bed in the ER and connected the monitor while securing an oxygen mask over her face. “Heart rate is dropping” A nurse announced, watching the patient monitor while the doctor and other nurses started plugging in different equipment to her while giving her injection shots. “She’s going into cardiac arrest!” The nurse announced as the monitor displayed warning signs without any trace of brain activity, announcing a flat beep sound, assisted by alarm sounds throughout the room. “Clear!” They jolt electricity into her heart. They pause for a second to wait for the monitor to record any change. Nothing “Compress!” They palm her chest and give her chest compressions. The monitor still records no brain activity. “Clear!” They press the AED against her chest again, trying to revive her heart in time before her brain starves from lack of oxygen. They pause again to see if there will be any change in the record. Nothing They repeat this process two more times and her brain does not respond. “Should we call it?” One of the nurses asked. “Time of dea…..” The monitor picks up and records brain activity, making a steady beep beep beep sound. The display on the monitor now looks like a graph diagram again. “She is stable but she needs to get an MRI done. We need to know what extent of brain damage she sustained in the seconds she was out and we also need to be sure about what is going on inside of her. There is a possibility of a hypoxic anoxic brain injury.” …………………………………. “Hello miss. I am your Doctor. Doctor Ashley and you are in Capital Hospital, New York” The doctor said standing over Randa, who was laid on a hospital bed with an oxygen mask over her face and a gauze wrapped around her head. Randa had been in the hospital for almost two weeks now and had just regained consciousness after many medical complications and surgeries. The MRI scan showed she had no broken bones or torn ligaments, but she did suffer from a brain injury that affected her motor to an extent, meaning she needed to undergo physiotherapy to regain full function in her legs. Her case was not too severe. About a month or two of physiotherapy could get her standing and walking but not standing for too long or running. She would need more months of physiotherapy to regain absolute function in her legs. The monitor picked up abnormal signals from her brain. The hospital suspected memory loss but couldn’t be quite sure until they spoke to her. They also needed to be sure that her speech was not impaired. Randa winced, speaking in a low tone. “What happened to me?” She asked. Okay her speech was not impaired. “You were involved in a car accident. Certain medical complications resulted in a brain injury and you would need to go through physiotherapy to regain full function in your legs.” Doctor Ashley replied. “OH” Was the only thing that could escape her lips. It was like she was accustomed to bad things happening in her life. “Would you mind telling me your name please” The doctor said, now sitting on a chair next to the bed. “Erm my name…my name is. My name? I do not know.” Randa replied, clearly unsure of everything. “Do you remember anything about yourself, like maybe where you live? Or your family?” Doctor Ashley asked, trying to make a prognosis. “I erm…” Randa winced in pain trying to calm her breaths. Her head hurt like it was about to pop. it was expected with the amount of trauma she had been through. She was expected to have periodic migraines over the next month. The hospital had put painkillers in her drip for the migraines and without that, she would have been in x3 more pain than she currently was. “You should rest. We will have this conversation some other time.” Doctor Ashley says as she gets up and bends over to adjust and fluff Randa’s pillow. Randa closes her eyes but not to sleep. She closes them to feel. She closes them to see if she could feel pain or joy or anything that would trail down to identity. It felt like just “existence”. That moment you look in the mirror and your head just says “Wow I am a person. I exist. I have existed for years. I am me but then who is me? That was exactly how she felt but it was worse not remembering the consciousness of this existence until this very moment. Her head hurt the more she sank into her consciousness. Doctor Ashley walks in with a small bottle and a needle. “I will up your dose a bit since you are now awake. The doses we gave you while you were unconscious were to reduce the expected pain you would feel when you woke up" Doctor Ashley says as she reaches for the drip, draws out liquid from a small glass bottle with the syringe, and inserts it into the drip. “You will be fine. Just get some rest” Doctor Ashley gives a reassuring pat to Randa on her shoulder and heads for the door. “How long have I been out?” Randa asks, holding Doctor Ashley in her steps. “Two weeks” Doctor Ashley replies spinning on her feet to face Randa. “Even sleeping beauty did not sleep that long. You might as well record me as a sleeping beauty in your system. Maybe I am a princess.” Witt. Randa was able to show personality features. That was a good thing. It meant that her memory loss was not so severe to the extent that it took away her personality. She is someone, inside the confusion and ruckus in her head, but she would not realize it. She would still wonder who she was. Even when you are full of memories and remember your life as far back as your late or for some, early toddler years, you still ask “Who am I” Doctor Ashley is lit up by this. She tilts her head backward and sounds of joy escape her larynx. She had not known this nameless woman lying on the hospital bed in front of her that almost lost her life severally, yet somehow she felt connected to her. Maybe it was because she had lost her husband in a similar accident to similar conditions that had severely threatened to take Randa’s life. It was not professional or ethical to connect personal feelings and she knew that but just could not help it. She felt that if Randa had died just the same way her husband did, it would reverse the five years it took her to barely heal from her husband’s passing. They had not been married long before the accident but they had been high school sweethearts. Doctor Ashley immediately recognized her misconduct, laughing out loud like that with a patient. Realizing it, she slapped her palm over her mouth. “It is okay. I appreciate your effort to make me feel funny. At least I can think of a potential career when I leave here.” Randa says, her back to the bed as she stares and bores holes into the ceiling with her eyes. “Who is the president of this country?” Doctor Ashley asks Randa. “It is George Mallow” She replies. “What year are we in?” Doctor Ashley asks. “2019” She replies. “Would you like broccoli and Rice for lunch?” Doctor Ashley asks... “No, I greatly dislike Broccoli” She replies. “Where are your parents?” Doctor Ashley asks. “My dad…my dad is late. I do not know about my mum” She replies. “Any siblings?” Doctor Ashley asks. “I do not think so. I think I am an only child” She replies. “What neighborhood did you grow up in?” Doctor Ashley asks. “I do not know. I don’t remember” She replies. That is it, Doctor Ashley thought to herself. It was a trauma-induced memory loss. Randa’s brain injury was not enough to incapacitate her memory to that extent. She lost her memory because her brain had been through so much trauma from the accident that it wanted to unlink itself from more trauma and in this case, the trauma was psychological so it unlinked itself. Unlinked itself from every psychological trauma she had ever been through and anything or person connected to it. It was not very common but it happened and the biggest way to diagnose it was sieving out the memory kept and the memory lost. She kept basic memories like state affairs, general social matters, dislikes, and likes but she could not remember anything about her growing up or childhood that stage of anyone’s life is either the breaking or making the point and if there is trauma, that’s the chapter one of it. Her only gateway to her full memories was therapy. But did she want to remember her past? Did she want to remember it after barely running away from it? The medical prescription would be to put her on therapy but that was of secondary importance as learning how to walk again came first. “You’ll be fine” Doctor Ashley says lastly, before heading out the door and shutting it behind her. …………………………………… Randa remained unidentified. She was a Jane Doe. They had tried every possible means to identify her but all ended at a dead end. Randa had no ID. Not a single form of identification. There were no missing persons reports or visits. She was practically faceless. The hospital even tried to trace a relationship to the anonymous payment of her hospital bills but couldn’t. The hospital wanted to wait till she was conscious to see if she could identify herself but seeing that she could not, they followed the hospital protocol for cases like this and used the electronic system that assigns unidentified patients a trauma alias. Hers was TRAUMA SANDY. It was the name tattooed on her arm so it was assumed either to her name or the name of someone special. They had to create a whole identity for her from scratch and even had to add a birth date and went with the number on her arm then picked a year for someone in their late twenties. She was going to leave the hospital as Sandy Tram, 29. Days had gone by since she started her physiotherapy and she was making considerable progress. One day, after her session, she was wheeled into her hospital room by a nurse. “Should I help you into your bed?” The nurse asked. “No thank you. I will call for assistance when I want to lay back down. For now, I want to sit by the window and greet the moon” Randa, now identified as Sandy, said. The nurse smiled, heading out the door. Sandy rested her hands on the wheels of the wheelchair and guided it to the big floor-to-ceiling window. Outside it looked calm and beautiful. Her view was of the hospital park, where patients came out to take walks and receive fresh air. The grass was green and beautiful. It even looked like it glowed in the dark. Her eye level went higher to look at the sky now. It was without any stars but looked like a magnificent night blue. It truly was beautiful. Sandy found comfort in looking at it. Secretly, Sandy was scared to dig into her memories and find out all the things she was unaware of. Maybe if she did, she would not have been able to look at the stars, the grass, and nature in the same way. “Hey, mum I got you the flowers you like…” Sandy sneezes immediately as she spins to face the door and her eyes meet with a man seemingly in his early 20s. Her eyes move away from him instantly, as she did not like eye contact. “Oh, I am so sorry ma’am. I got the wrong room” He apologizes immediately. “Mum is looking for you” Another man walks into the room, through the now ajar door. He looks like the first guy but older, like in his early 30s. He realizes there is someone else in the room with them. “We are sorry for the interruption. Have a good rest of your evening” The older guy says, his voice coated with authority and audacity. The two men exit the room and shut the door behind them. ……………………………………… Ford adjusts his Tie, standing in front of the long mirror at the corner of his office. A lady enters his office, holding a tray with a small kettle seated on it. “Take it back” He says, against her and facing the mirror. “Okay sir” She turns around and heads for the door. “Tell Mr. Tom he can go home. I have a personal errand to run” “Okay sir”