I Am Lost without My Boswell: Narrative Essay

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I feel so broken and even my breath got frozen

My heart and mind were stolen

How can these empty things carry so much weight?

Can’t I design my fate?

Their whispers don’t let me, Can’t they see I want to fill in this void inside me?

-Amara S.

I was in this room, sitting in front of the mirror and watching myself while trying to remember who I am. It’s been a week since I woke up in that hospital where a man said that he is my husband. I neither remember a thing nor my name, so how could I trust anyone?

I heard three knocks before the door opened. The girl said, ‘Your Highness, the doctor is here.’ I think she’s one of the servants here. A minute later when an aged man holding a small suitcase walked in. ‘Greetings, Your Highness.’ He said then bowed at me. I nodded my head once and allowed him to sit on the chair, not far away from me. My so-called husband wasn’t here. I believe he needs to take care of something very important that’s why I am alone here with maids, guards, and this doctor.

‘So what is happening to me?’ I asked him directly. Before he answered, he opened his suitcase and had his papers out. He scanned the papers before explaining, ‘Princess, the bad news is, according to the test we made, you have retrograde amnesia, and based on your statement last week, you can’t remember even a bit of yourself; while the good news is, your implicit memory might still be intact, which means you can learn new skills, such as riding a bike, cooking, swimming, even though you forgot the actual event.’

‘How did I get sick?’ I stuttered as I looked at myself again in the mirror while holding back my tears. ‘It’s because of some brain damage possibly from trauma in addition to severe stress. My apologies but you can only ask your family about what truly happened to you, Your Highness. They are the ones who can answer all of your questions,’ I stayed silent and tried to remember even a bit of my memory. ‘I am going now, Your Highness. If you still have questions regarding your condition, you are free to ask me. Good day.’ He bowed at me once again before leaving.

As soon as the doctor left, I stood up and took my jacket. I needed to find something which will help me remember even a bit. As I walked by the lobby, tons of maids were asking me where am I going.

Well, where am I supposed to go? I don’t know either.

I didn’t answer them until I finally got out of the palace. When I felt the cold winter air, I put on my jacket and my hair had been blown up and down by the cold wind. I took a long walk even though I didn’t know where to go. All I hoped for was to remember even bits of things, places, or events that may lead me back to my memories.

I have lots of questions in my mind that only my memory can honestly answer. The doctor said that no one knows if this is temporary or fleeting. I’ve wandered a lot of streets of an unfamiliar city, and I have no idea how can I get back home. How do I get to know myself?

There are things I know I should remember. My first date, my first kiss with the man who claimed me as his wife, our wedding day, and all of those memories that everyone else in the world shares. Our precious memories. But I cannot remember any of them. I had no memory of any part of my life’s story. It’s all been erased. The best word I can use to describe it is just being lost. Because I lost who I am.

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