Yuta's Anthology

ALZHEIMER'S DISEASE

‘If my illness gets worse, please don't be sad. Just bring me one of my favorite books. Let me read something useful in order for me to recognize myself. Let me travel back to where I belong. Let me bring back my love for you.’ I wrote on my DIY bookmark and placed it on the corner of a wooden bookshelf using a pin.

Every night, I always have that strange nightmare. I know it's weird because this book I am reading, even its bookmark, wasn't really mine.

“Who is Michael Thomasville?" I confusedly asked my doctor as she entered the room so suddenly.

“The owner of that book, I guess,” she answered with a smile.

I turned my attention back to the book I was holding, then realized that Michael was actually the author of this book.

“Why? Why do you ask so?" My doctor gently patted my hair as she sat on my bed with me.

I sighed first before speaking, “I was wondering why that name really sounds familiar. It actually makes my heart pound so fast.”

I noticed her smile fading before standing.

“Is there something wrong with what I've said?” I asked her.

“Nothing,” she softly said without looking at me.

She left after that, and I went back to reading the book.

“I first met her inside the UV Express Van. She was seated next to me, and while we were traveling, she suddenly fell asleep on my shoulder. I even wanted to remove her head from my shoulder, but I couldn't stop laughing in my mind because of her pig-like snoring.” I paused and gave the familiar guy beside me with an upset look.

“What?” he chuckled.

“Tsk, whatever!” I snorted and then read it again.

“Honestly, although we were inside the van for almost half an hour, I feel like I've been lifting heavy luggage for five hours because of the weight of her head...” I was about to continue when his laugh distracted me from reading.

“If only I knew that we would be together, I would have taken a video so you could hear the sound of your pig-like snoring.” He said teasingly, which annoyed me even more.

“Are you serious, Michael? Won't you stop teasing me?” I yelled, then got stunned when my doctor arrived panting.

“What happened?” She worriedly hugged me. “Are you alright?” she asked as she held my face.

I never expected to mention a stranger's name. I'm confused. I don't even know who that guy is. However when I noticed him slowly vanishing, I was surprised to hear myself crying.

“Michael, please don't leave me.” I pleaded.

Suddenly, the doctor looked me in the eye and said, "Jerrah, I know, it's hard to accept that your husband is already dead.” She nervously told me.

"My husband? Who?" I anxiously asked her.

"I can't lie to you anymore!" she cries.

"What?" I was curious.

"Mr. Butler is not your real husband. He was actually the twin brother of Michael Thomasville, your real husband. Michael loved you so much that he would sacrifice for you to recover." She explained it to me.

“Where is he? Where is my real husband? I want to see him." I told my doctor, but she just shrugged.

“No! No, you can't see him anymore. He's dead! He killed himself because he felt useless as your husband.” she said softly while looking at the book that I put on the bed.

We were surprised by the sudden arrival of someone.

“How is my beautiful wife doing?” That man asked me before kissing my forehead.

My doctor quickly wiped away her own tears before leaving in a hurry.

I looked at the man carefully, “Who are you?” I yelled and then pushed him away.

"Hey, it's me! Butler, your husband.” He answered me with a frown.

“No! My husband is Michael." I told him and he was surprised.

“But Michael is dead.” He shouted at me.

“He is not!” I started to cry.

“You're lying! He's not dead because I always feel his presence." I added as tears streamed down my cheeks.

“You're crazy!” he shouted as he grabbed the book and threw it on the floor.

I felt my skin tremble when I hurriedly picked it up. “What is wrong with you?” I let out a sigh of anger.

“Have you forgotten that you are happily married to me?” He asked me.

“I don't remember anything.” I told him.

“Because you have Alzheimer's.” He said, holding my shoulder.

“Alzheimer's?” I stuttered.

“Yes, you're experiencing greater memory loss.” His concern is obvious.

“If I have Alzheimer's, why do I remember that every time I'm reading this book, Michael is always here with me?” I mourned the reason for his letting go of my shoulder.

His eyes started sparkling with tears. “Because of that book," he said before hugging me tightly.

“Thank you for remembering me. I'm sorry for pretending I was Butler, my dead twin brother.” He started sobbing, and that made me emotional as well.

“I don't understand." I cried, and then he touched my face.

“You didn't have to understand it; just remember that this book was written to remind you of our love.” He whispered to me with affection.