Lucas Carter's POV
If one day I had an accident and lost my memory, how would you make me remember you?
Perhaps at some point in your lives, you've asked this question to someone. But have you ever asked yourself, how do I piece myself back together and rediscover who I am?
"Are you okay, Lucas?" My brother asked, and I nodded, observing the children playing in the park. Some were with their guardians, while others were couples, families, or groups of teenagers passing by.
A smile flickered on my face as I walked beside my brother.
"Do you remember this place, Brother? We used to come here often," he reminisced, scanning the surroundings. I strained to conjure an image of him and me in my mind, but it was a blank slate. I shook my head in disappointment, feeling utterly lost. "Brother, I've missed spending time with you," he expressed.
I mustered an awkward grin, feeling a mixture of melancholy and alienation. I wished I could remember them. Though they're my family, or so they've told me, I feel like they're strangers to me. It's heartwarming to have my father and brother by my side, believe it or not. But deep down, I'm curious about myself, more than anything else.
We eventually found respite on a bench as my feet grew tired. I sank into a contemplative state. Dad had the bright idea to take me for a walk, and somehow it helped me gather my thoughts.
"Lucas, can you wait for me here? I'll go find Dad," my brother said, taking a seat beside me. I nodded, assuring him that I'd be safe.
I don't always recognize when something is amiss. Of course, something is always amiss. But internally, it's different. You might think you have complete control over yourself, that you can project the image you want, that you can conceal your wounds. But you can't stop them from bleeding, even if others don't see them.
Just because they're invisible doesn't mean they don't exist.
"Lucas! There you are!"
I looked up, recognizing a familiar voice.
I was taken aback, as if struck by lightning.
"M-Mom?" I stammered.
She sat down next to me, gently adjusting my hair. I was caught off guard, unsure how to react. It felt like a dream, but she was truly there. "What happened to your hand, Lucas? You need to be more careful!" I looked at her, my emotions in turmoil, unable to believe that I was actually seeing her. "So, what brings you here, Lucas? We used to come here together."
A wide smile spread across my face. My heart warmed as I recollected the precious moments we shared.
"Yes, Mom. I missed you so much. Dad and my brother brought me here after I was discharged from the hospital," I replied. Her presence transported me back to a time when I was a carefree child.
"I hope they're treating you well," she stuttered. I grinned and shook my head slowly. She was as protective as ever.
"Mom, I promise they are! If only I could remember..." I murmured, feeling a sense of gloom settling over me.
I sighed, longing for my memories to return.
"Lucas?"
I turned to my right, another familiar voice calling my name.
"Lucas, it's you!"
Confusion furrowed my brow as I tried to recognize the smiling face of the girl before me. Her long, bouncy black hair, rosy cheeks, and especially her misty brown eyes caught my attention.
She approached me, and I couldn't help but stare at her enchanting face.
"I haven't seen you in a month! I didn't know you were discharged already!" she exclaimed, her eyes wide with disbelief. "Are you here alone?" she asked.
I glanced to my left, but to my surprise, Mom was no longer there. I scanned the area, but she had vanished.
"Lucas? Is someone with you?" she pressed.
My lips parted, my gaze fixed on her eyes. I could sense her unawareness of what was happening, just as I was.
"I-I was talking to Mom," I replied.
Something within me felt off. Really off.
"Mom? Isn't your mother... isn't she dead?"
"She's not dead," I responded immediately. "I was talking to her. You saw her, didn't you?" I choked out.
Yes, I know it sounds foolish. Spare me the judgment. I'm fully aware of what happened to my mother, every agonizing second of it.
But in that moment, I didn't care about what I knew. I cared about what I saw, and I saw my mother. She was there, I know she was.
"Lucas, you're joking, right? I didn't see anyone else with you," she sneered.
I rose to my feet, causing her to stagger slightly.
"She was here, I was talking to her... and who are you, by the way?"
"W-What?" she yelped, taken aback. I was beyond frustrated that no one believed me, not a single soul.
"MY MOTHER IS NOT DEAD, DO YOU HEAR ME!?"
"LUCAS!" Suddenly, a hand grabbed hold of me, pulling me away. It was my father, with my brother following closely behind.
"Brother, what's happening here?"
"THAT GIRL IS SAYING MY MOTHER IS DEAD! I WAS TALKING TO MOM JUST A MOMENT AGO!" I seethed, my brother holding onto my forearm, restraining me.
"Daisy, I'll explain everything later," Dad pleaded with her. She simply nodded, casting one last bewildered glance at me before walking away, her expression a mix of confusion and disbelief.
"Son, what was that? She was your friend!" My father demanded, his gaze fixed on me, while my brother released his grip on my arm. They both seemed taken aback.
That struck a nerve. I wasn't upset that they didn't believe me; I was upset because I didn't know how to make them believe me.
"Mom was here, she sat next to me and held my hand!" I exclaimed, pointing to the bench I had occupied.
Father and my brother exchanged glances, clearly perplexed.
Dad closed his eyes, bowing his head.
"Son, let's discuss this at home."
...