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Prologue
Cathy
Eleven years earlier…
It hurts.
My left leg feels like it’s being squeezed off by some invisible tentacle. The water turns into a thousand ice cold pins and needles pricking every inch of my skin. My head spins with every thought that races through it in a flurry of panic. My chest seems like it might collapse around my heart and cause it to explode with every fleeting breath that I strain to pull into my aching lungs.
Is this… it? Am I going to die?
My life flashes before my eyes. Rushing to school. Classes. Homework. Dinner with Mom and Hal. Piano lessons. Soccer practice. Weekend sleepovers. Summer camping trips. White Christmases at Grandma’s. Birthdays that usually take place on the coldest day of the year.
Wait. Is that all?
I’ve never even been kissed, never been alone with a guy. I’ve never driven a car. I’ve never tried sushi or kimchi. I’ve never tasted alcohol, because I’m only fifteen.
Only fifteen. And dying.
I can feel death creeping under my skin as I sink below the surface, my legs too numb and my arms too tired to keep myself afloat. Water gushes into my mouth. It seeps inside my nostrils and makes its way to my lungs. I can’t breathe.
I guess this is it. I guess I’ll die without getting married and having kids, without even knowing what sex feels like, without going to college or even to prom. So many things that I’ll never get to experience. So much life I’ll never get to live.
Such a waste.
I’d cry, but I can’t. I have no control over this body anymore. Even my thoughts are starting to blur. I’m slipping away.
Yes, this is it.
I give in to the cold and the darkness. I have no other choice. This is the end. My end.
“Cathy!”
Trisha? My best friend’s voice is the last I hear, her pretty face with those mischievous teal eyes and that carefree smile the last image my mind manages to conjure before the nothingness takes over.
~
When I wake up, the first thing I see are bright lights. Too bright. I blink a few times and squint until I finally see something else.
A pale green ceiling. Cream-colored walls. A watercolor painting of a bird’s nest with eggs which doesn’t look familiar to me in the slightest.
Where am I?
“Cathy!”
I hear the relief in my mother’s voice and feel it in her arms as they wrap around me, lifting me off the bed and squeezing me tight.
My eyebrows crease. Relief? Why would she be relieved?
As I turn my head, I see a stocky man in a checkered shirt standing in the doorway past her shoulder. He gives me a smile and waves.
Hal?
“Hal, call the doctor!” my mother orders.
Hal runs off. Through the doorway, I see people walking past, some more hurriedly than others – nurses and doctors.
I’m in a… hospital?
I glance at my hand and see the needle buried beneath strips of clear bandage. I follow the tube to the bottle hanging by my bed and see the machine beneath it. Red and green lines move up and down in waves on the screen.
What the hell?
“It’s alright, sweetie.” My mother strokes my cheek as she gives me a smile. “Everything’s going to be alright.”
I shake my head. “What happened, Mom? Why am I…?”
My words drift away as the doctor rushes into the room. He looks like he’s in his fifties, with salt and pepper hair and eyeglasses with a black frame and round lenses.
“Dr. Allen.” My mother steps away from my bedside. “She just woke up. This is good, right? She’s going to be alright now, right?”
Dr. Allen doesn’t answer. He takes out his penlight and flashes it into my eyes. Then he gazes straight into them.
“How do you feel, Cathy? Does your head hurt? Does it hurt anywhere?”
I shake my head. “I feel fine. I’m just… confused.”
“Confused?” Dr. Allen gives me a puzzled look.
I glance at my mother. She looks worried now, and I’m scared I might make her worry even more.
“It’s okay, Cathy,” Dr. Allen tells me. He grasps my chin so that I’m meeting his gaze once more. “Tell me why you’re confused, or what you’re confused about, exactly.”
“I…” I swallow the lump in my throat. “I can’t… remember why I’m here. What happened to me?”
I hear my mother gasp. Hal rushes to her side.
“Please don’t panic, Mrs. Jeffries.” Dr. Allen turns to her. “It’s completely normal for her memory to be fuzzy considering she… considering what she just suffered. Besides, she only just woke up after being unconscious for nearly two days. It will take time for her brain to begin functioning as well as it used to.”
What?
“Wait. What are you saying?” I touch the back of my head. “Are you saying I have… amnesia?”
“I’m saying your brain has been through a lot,” Dr. Allen answers. “And that you should give it time to recover. For now, you should consider yourself lucky that you woke up. That’s a huge step in the right direction.”
