I see blurry whiteness when I open my eyes. My lids feel like they are made of lead and weighs a ton. I blink a couple of times slowly, waiting for my sight to clear but the whiteness stays nonetheless. An unbearable, sharp pain strikes the left side of my forehead and I feel so weak I let out a painful moan. It doesn't go away and it's so sharp like my head is ready to blow up anytime. I can't sit up, but now my sight is getting clearer and clearer. A white room... white walls and white ceiling even the blanket on my body is the same colour. My ear beeps loudly, I place my hand on it. There is a tube coming out of my head, but why it is here? Where am I? What happened?

There's something soft around my hand. Soft like skin, someone's hand and a thumb rubbing mine gently. I glance in the way and yes, there's someone sitting next to me. A young man with blonde curls, dressed in black. There's a leather cap on top of his head and wears a comfy, loose black sweatshirt. I can't see his face properly, only that his eyes are closed and his lips are wide, full. As I'm moving around, he lifts his gaze on me. A kind, but stressed expression.

- Are you alright? Don't you want to rest a little more? – he asks quietly, almost whispering.

- Where am I? – my voice is weak and hoarse.

- At the hospital. But don't worry, I call the doctor here.

- Wait... - I want to call his name, but I can't remember. I don't even know who is this guy. – What happened?

He sighs, his expression becomes more stressful. Probably collecting his words and memories.

- You have been operated. Can you remember?

I shake my head in response.

- No, I can't. What's going on?

- I go and find the doctor.

He storms out through the door, leaving me alone. I try to look around. There's table next to my bed with papers, on the other side, there's a stand with infusion, which is connected to my forearm with a tube, the one coming out of my head is filled with blood. There's a chair next to the stand with dirty clothes on it, probably mine. The beep that fills the room comes from an ECG. Luckily, I have some strength now to sit up and I see that my right shoulder and arm is totally bruised, huge black and blue spots on my skin.

The door opens again and a doctor walks in with the unknown but still familiar looking guy.

- Good morning, miss. Would you mind if I ask some questions beforehand?

I nod as an answer and the doctor stands right next to me with papers and a pen in his hand.

- Can you tell me your name?

My name... I don't know, what is my name? I can't remember but I try it with all my might.

-  Something with... a... ana... or K... Kava... - I hold my forehead in my palm, trying so hard. – or D... oro... I think it is Doroth... tea... Dorothy, no it's Dorothea. Dorothea... nagh... Ka... Kavanagh. My name is Dorothea Mary Kavanagh.

-  And your mother's maiden name?

-  I think it's... Sylvia maybe... O... Rea... Ra... Sylvia O'mara.

-  First, Ms. Kavanagh... do you know why are you here?

-  No – I shake my head. – What happened?

The unknown blonde guy stared at the doctor, furrowing his brows with a bitter expression and worry. The doctor glanced at his papers and then he started to talk.

-  You were injured in an accident, Ms. Kavanagh. Yesterday a small truck hit you and from the impact, your frontal lobe was damaged and started to bleed. We had to operate you. It's completely natural if your memories are blurry, the sedative and the brain trauma can be blamed for it. But to be certain and accurate, you must stay in the hospital for a few days to wait for your memories to come back. If not, then you will be visited by a neurologist, to see if there's a chance for some kind of amnesia. Sadly, in cases of accidents like these, it is very common... but let's hope for the best.

I remain silent to process all this information. I still feel lifeless, and hearing that there's a chance that I lost my memories really makes me want to force something out of my brain. Like my whole mental got a delete and a restart. Was I hit by a truck? For real? At least I understand this sharp pain around my forehead and temple. And who was the driver? Who did this to me? This guy? He's the one or he just brought me here? Did I know him before? Where's my family? Why aren't they here? The middle-aged doctor adjusts his round glasses and observes my slouching figure.

- What is your last memory Ms. Kavanagh? – he asked me again.

I close my eyes, trying brought up the pictures in my head. Instead of trying hard, I'm focusing on calming myself down. I can only see darkness, but after some moments, pictures start flashing in my head. There's something that I can see, something dark, something disturbing, grim, horrific and disgusting. A picture hanging on the wall of my mind. I know now... finally something that I can recall.

- A painting. At the museum. I think it was... Goya. Goya's Saturn devouring his son. I remember, how I've stood before the painting with many other people around me trying to take a photo of it – I say quietly.

- I can remember too – said the unknown blonde guy in a soft voice. – 2 months before, we attended that exhibition together in London. A selection of romantic painters, you wanted to go so bad, I took you as a birthday present.

It is certain, I know this guy from somewhere, but I still can't figure out who he is to me. There are flashes again, pictures flashing before my eyes with rapid speed. Memories that are coming back. But this is so intense, I need to cover my eyes and my entire head in my hand. My brain aches, ready to explode once again. I let out a painful moan again.

- What's happening? - the blonde guy asked in an anxious, worried voice.

-  You must be careful, Mr. Gore – says the doctor. – She's very fragile mentally now, too much information can cause a kind of frustration for the brain to process, which can lead to seizures. We must take things slow in the beginning. You said that you know each other, am I right?

-  Yes, for a very long time...

-  Then maybe your presence can bring out memories, you don't have to force information upon her. Now, I must go and prepare an X-ray and an MRI for her. Since the operation was urgent.

The doctor leaves and the pressure on my skull slowly starts to fade. The unknown blonde man takes slow, uncertain steps towards me, he said that we know each other... for a very long time, and I couldn't recall any of it.

-  I'm happy that you can still remember that day... - he sits down next to me, on the bed. – It was wonderful, and you were... sparkling from joy.

-  Since when have we know each other?

The blondie shows a smile. A bitter, broken, resigned smile. His eyes are green, like two glowing emeralds. His cheeks are full of tiny birthmarks and has an overall feminine appearance.

-  Since we were kids... You can't remember anything about me yet?

I shake my head as an answer and something just breaks inside him, I can see it. He takes my hand in his, the one which is free from the infusion's tube but not from the bruises.

- I'm so sorry what happened to you. Your arm and your face... It's a miracle that you... - he stops and lets out a troubled sigh. -  I called your parents and they were here to visit you, but the operation was still going on, I was waiting for almost 3 hours. It was unbearable...

His voice becomes higher and dashed, he's close to crying, maybe that glow in his eyes are actually tears. He looks at me deep in the eye, like I'm his most precious thing ever. What had he meant to me in the past? What is it that I can't remember?

-  What happened yesterday? – I ask the same question again. I want to remember desperately.

-  I talked to the doctor before and he said that I shouldn't tell it to you. He wants to wait until you're stable and maybe you can remember on your own. But I'll be there... if you need help or have other questions.

He sends me an encouraging smile to my emotionless gaze, which turns a little bit bitter. I don't want to wait, I want answers. Now. I part my lips again, ready to ask something again.

- What am I to you? A friend?

He lets out a short, awkward chuckle. Showing his uneven, wonky teeth. There's a slight blush on his face, as he tries to answer.

- A little bit more and complicated than that... - he escapes my gaze in shyness, letting my hand go. The unknown yet familiar blonde guy stands up and walks to the other side of my bed and stops next to the infusion stand. He reaches out to me. – I escort you to the radiology to get those X-rays done. Do you think you can stand up?

I look back at him with an uncertain expression, like if I forgot how to walk. I move towards the edge of the bed and place my legs to the ground. There are minor bruises on them too... I get a hold on the stand and slowly putting weight on my feet. They're soft like jelly, I can hardly support myself with them. I reach out and Martin can catch me quickly and helps to get my balance right while holding me. Wait... Martin? Can I remember his name?

-  Martin...? - I exhale quietly and weakly. His hold on me becomes a gentle, loving hug, he brushes his head to mine.

-  Yes... you remembered correctly – he whispers, caressing my back slowly.