PRESENT
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MELINA'S POV
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The trees and the views kept moving past like a movie running backwards, making me feel like I was running away from everything. The car moved forward, but inside me, it felt like I was standing still. My mind refused to live in the present, as if it were holding its breath, waiting for something I couldn't name.
I couldn't let go of the memory I had lost. It hovered in my mind like a shadow, just out of reach. And at the same time, I didn't want to face the people tied to that past. It was confusing. I wanted to find it, but I also feared it. My chest felt tight.
I rested my head against the cool glass of the car window. Outside, the scenery blurred into green and gray. Mom and Dad kept glancing at me through the rearview mirror. Their faces looked small and worried. Their concern felt fake, like actors reading lines in a play. I hated that thought, but I couldn't stop it.
Melodie… The thought of her came suddenly. She hadn't been around since last midnight. She didn't know about our sudden outing, either. If she had known, she would have been happy to tag along, happy to be with my side. The thought made me smile faintly, though it felt fragile, like a small flame in the dark. Smiling on the thought of her is the least i can do, even though she doesn't pull me out of this deep dark cave.
I am not complaining cause she didn't. I am mad at myself for not feeling the her love, from my heart.
Mom and Dad kept acting like they cared. But I knew better. They never had. And maybe they never would. Their small gestures — adjusting the rearview mirror, shifting the gear, glancing at me — felt rehearsed. Watching them made my head ache.
Among all these people, the only ones I could truly rely on were Melodie and Grandma.
Grandma held my hand gently, her warm, weak fingers grounding me. She had arrived that morning and suggested to my parents that we take me for a follow-up at the hospital. I had argued at first — the smell of hospitals made my head spin, bringing back memories of the cold, empty feeling I had when I first woke after months of slumber. It reminded me of how lifeless I felt. But Grandma's calm insistence made arguing useless. She suggested we go somewhere with fresh air, so here we were, heading toward a park.
I looked at her. Her wrinkled chin lifted slightly as she smiled, her eyes warm and soft. My heart calmed just from seeing her face. I smiled back, faintly, the corners of my lips lifting.
I loved her. I needed her — and Melodie — to get through this. They were my anchors in a world that felt unsteady.
But I am a very greedy person, cause even after all the care from them, i kept yearning more and more to fill in me. More and more of Love, Care, Compassion.
The car rolled on, and my attention drifted to the road. A café sign caught my eye: Obscure Café, with green plants covering its entrance. For a moment, it seemed to glow, then disappeared as the car moved past.
Not far from the café, a man walked along the footpath. From behind, his silhouette looked perfect, almost like a sculpture. Suddenly, he dropped to his knees. His shoulders shook, his head hung low, and his hands braced him against the concrete. He stayed there for a long time, crumpled, alone.
Even as the car moved, I couldn't stop looking. He probably cried. I didn't know what had happened to him, but watching someone's pain made my chest ache in a strange way.
"Melina, what's wrong?" Mom asked.
"Nothing," I muttered, snapping my head forward.
"Do we need to pull over?" Dad asked, slowing slightly.
"No… no need," I said.
Everyone is living their life.
Some peoples crying their heart our, crumbled. Just like the man i saw.
Some people as Couples holding hands, Some as students rushing to catch buses, Some people walking past without a care — I wanted that life, too.
I want to live.
"Mom, I want to meet my friends," I said, my voice firmer than I expected.
"The ones from the hospital?!" Mom asked, her voice excited. Maybe she was happy because I was willing to give myself a chance, or maybe she just wanted me to believe she cared.
"Yes. Them."
The car became quiet.
Through the front window, I saw Dad wiping his eyes. Were those tears?
"Right now," I said.
Without another word, Dad turned the car around and we drove back quickly. Their smiles felt hopeful. I clung to that hope like it was a lifeline.
Dad stopped beside the café.
"Is this the place they'll be?"
"Yes. This is it," Mom said.
How did she know?
"Go on in," Dad said, looking at me. Mom, Dad, and Grandma's eyes followed me, smiling hopefully.
"Alone?" I asked, clutching my dress.
"We'll follow after," Grandma said, caressing my cheek. Her calloused hand felt warm and safe.
I opened the car door and stepped inside the café. My heart raced. I gripped the door handle, closed my eyes, then twisted it again. Grandma's words echoed in my mind: "You deserve everything you refuse for yourself."
I stepped inside. Bells jingled. My brain tingled with hope — maybe here, I would find answers.
The café was empty at first. Then I saw two girls in barista uniforms staring at me, mouths slightly open.
They were the same girls I had seen at the hospital.
Thud. Shatter. One of them dropped a glass. The noise pierced the silence.
The girls blinked, then ran toward me, hugging me tightly.
"How could you forget us?" one of them said, voice trembling.
"You are awful, Mel," the other said, crying.
I didn't know their names, but my eyes filled with tears anyway. I lifted my hands, patting their backs.
SNEEZE. Not a normal sneeze, but loud and unexpected.
"I am Zara," the one who sneezed said, wiping her eyes and nose.
"She is Pigeon," Zara said, pointing at the other.
"I am Dove, bitch," Pigeon said, laughing through her tears.
I laughed too, wiping my eyes.
"I am —" I began.
"Melina," Zara and Pigeon said together.
"You didn't lose us — you lost your memory," Zara said, poking my nose lightly.
It felt like they turned on lights in the dark room I had been curled in. Their laughter and chatter filled the empty space.
For the first time in a long while, I let myself be carried along with them. Their voices, their warmth, their movement — it pulled me out of the fog I had been living in. I could feel pieces of my heart waking up again.
Strangely, whatever they just poured in my life filled way beyond Melodie's care and love.
And I hate myself for being a bad sister. Feeling happy because of two people i didn't knew;__ than my sister who has been with me since little.
But even as I laughed, hugged, and listened to them, my mind whispered that there was more. Something still missing. Something deeper, hidden in the dark corners of memory.
Something more.
More.
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