Misplaced memories

I began seeing Ms. Fantima after I suffered a TBI ; in hopes that she could uncover some memories of mine through hypnosis. To my delight and utter confusion she did her job as she described, she unlocked my inner self. What she unlocked though wasn’t me, at least not the present me. I started getting these weird visions that I was on the Trail of Tears with the rest of my tribe. The kicker? My DNA results if I were to get them tested would show that I’m 99.0% European, the rest of it is just garbled nonsense. You see my point though, weird that I would even have any sort of thought about this event in history. I started to tell Ms. Fantima about my visions and how I felt that I was going crazy but I didn’t want to sound nuts. I had a 401k, I had 2 children who depended on my income for college, and a husband who just couldn’t catch a break in this job market. The point was, I couldn’t afford lapse in work. I could barely afford her sessions but I put them on the emergency card, Tom doesn’t know about that one so it should be safe.

The visions grew stronger each day. I was on my morning jog when suddenly the hot scorching sun, beat down on me with such force my legs weakened. I heard moaning coming from behind me, in a language I did not comprehend but I knew exactly what they were saying. It was such a strange feeling, the words had no meaning to me now, but in the vision I understood them, they cried out for me to “honor them” and “never forget”. I looked down at my smart watch, my heart rate was 146bpm and I could feel my pulse in my gut. I took a break and rested against a tree that was guarded by the mid afternoon shade. Screams of pain bounced around my skull like some sick and twisted headache. This headache wanted to be heard, the dead wanted to be heard. I shook my head, Ms. Fantima must have drugged me or something. There was no way any of this was real. I was hallucinating, my heart rate was 146bpm, I had to focus on what was real. I had to focus on the facts. I looked down at my watch, 89bpm. Wait, how is that even possible? I was just almost hyper ventilating a second ago I could have sworn. From my BPM and lack of sweat on my skin I was convinced I hadn’t even started my run yet. The sun bore down once more with blinding light, a figure ahead of me. It appeared to be a man, a little taller than average and wearing a cowboy hat.

That’s odd, but not as quizzical as the hallucinations. After all, we were in upstate NY, somebody was bound to wear one of those hats. I took a sip from my water bottle and continued on, clicking my heels against the cement sidewalk, counting each line to clear my head. The shadows danced across the foliage as I made my way back to my house. Tom was asleep when I got back, he looked as if he took too many sleeping pills again. He hasn’t found his comfort level for sleep yet since the crash. I looked at him, sound asleep, not a worry in his mind. I envied it, but I knew he was trying his hardest.

I cleaned up our bathroom, the tiles were aquamarine and white and the walls a sandy grey color. I chose the bathroom design, it was the only room I had a say on designing. Tom insisted the house flowed, he suggested our house could make us feel something. All I felt when I saw our junk of a property was regret. I never intended to live in the city, I wanted a ranch style home and here we were with a duplex right next door. The showers warm water pressed against my skin like a fuzzy cat snuggling up to me. I LIVED for my showers, the only time where I could think straight.

A splash of water to the face to rinse off the shampoo that dripped down, potentially stinging my eyes if I weren’t careful. I knew the routine though. I opened my eyes, all grey for a moment and blurry. “You lied to us” someone shouted from behind me…

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