February 26, 2014


“Excuse me, can I buy you a cup of coffee, ma’am?” a boy with blue gray eyes asked me.

I looked up at him, unsure of how to answer him. Of course I wanted coffee. I also wanted to know who I was, and who the hell got me pregnant, so I thought it was just a joke.

“Ma’am?” he asked my blank expression.

“Yes, please,” I said realizing he was being serious. I slowly stood up, my back rubbing against the brick wall of Henry’s Coffee Tree. He gently reached for my hand, helping me stand. I suddenly worried about my appearance. I didn’t remember the last time I brushed my hair or my teeth. My sweater was soaked with Seattle’s rain and I thought it was so petty of me to worry about how I looked.

There were at least fifty or so people in the coffee shop and everyone seemed caught up in their own world. I was so envious. I wanted a world worth getting lost in, too.
I stood in line behind him, so ashamed. I worried that he was ashamed of me, but he treated me so kindly. He would sway side to side and turn around to smile at me, not once questioning who I was or what I was doing waiting outside a coffee shop in the pouring rain. I know I was looking at him like he was an angel.


“A Green Tea Latte,” he told the cashier when it was our turn. He looked at me, “and a hot chocolate with peppermint, please.”

He handed the cashier his credit card, and she typed on the screen in front of her. “How have you been, Ben?” she asked him.

“Alright,” he sighed and looked at me like somehow I had the answer. “Hanging in there.”

The cashier smiled at us both and handed Ben back his card. “Have a good day, you two.”

We stood in another line to wait for our order, and I wrapped my arms around my waist. I felt so exposed. I was so paranoid that everyone could sense how lost and confused and desperate I was. Like my secrets were worn on every inch of my body.

He turned around and smiled at me again. I avoided his glance by staring at my half brown-half white Converse.

Our order was called and I looked at the barista because I could feel her eyes on me. Her eyes were so familiar. The sensation of home washed over me and she smiled at me. I thought it was the oddest thing, how one could make you feel so much like home and be a total stranger. I felt like Ben gave me the same feeling, but a little more intensely.

He took the order from her and handed me the drink when we were outside.

“Why don’t you come with me-”


“That’s not a good idea,” I said cutting him off.

“I’m not going to hurt you.” I knew that excuse. Same words. Different voice.

“Just leave!” I shouted. My hands began to shake and I was afraid my body was having another panic attack.

Instead of doing as I asked, he stood there in front of me and watched me. Studied me almost.

“What do you want from me?” I asked. I was out of breath. I was out of hope. I was just bones wrapped in skin. I had nothing to offer him.

“Follow me,” he said again. The kindness in his voice was unshakable.

I stood there and watched him watching me. He took a step towards me and handed over the hot chocolate. “Take care, Vanessa.” He slowly walked away.

My hands began to shake as I called out, “Wait! How do you know my name?”

He turned around and smiled while he stuck his hands deep into the pockets of his jeans. How that seemed so familiar, somehow.


February 12, 2014





I woke up in a terribly unfamiliar room, with hideous orange and brown wallpaper. A man in a white coat walked in with a clipboard and smiled at me.

“Miss Brown, you finally woke up. You recovered just fine. The baby is going to be okay.”

I stared at the movements of his mouth but my brain comprehended none of the sound.

Another man came in, much younger, with a brown jacket and a weird design on the chest.

“Is she gonna be okay?” he asked nervously.

“She’ll be fine. Just a minor concussion, but nothing to worry about,” the man in the white coat responded. He left the room and it was just me and the attractive man in the brown jacket.

“Babe, I was so worried.” He sat on the edge of the bed and rested his hand on covers over my leg.

I didn’t respond.

“Are you okay, Vanessa?”

“How do you know my name?” I asked.

He laughed for a moment then his face suddenly turned serious. He clenched his jaw and asked me one more time. “Are you okay?”

I moved my leg from under his hand and held the blankets close to me. “Please, get away from me. I don’t know you.”

For some reason, he looked like he was going to cry and left the room and came back a minute later with the man in the white coat. “She doesn’t remember me! You told me she was okay!”

They looked at me with the same worried expression. “Unless the trauma affected her mentally, but there wasn’t any physical damage to her body.”

“You’re telling me you’re not sure what happened to her! She’s only eighteen, she can’t have this- I’m going to marry her! She’s fricken pregnant you know!” The boy fell to the floor and sobbed. “S***, this is all my fault.” A part of my heart felt like it was slowly dying and I had no idea why I felt so sad for this stranger. I had no idea why he kept claiming I was such a huge part of his life. Apparently, I was holding his baby, which I definitely do not remember conceiving.

More nurses began to rush in, and as the room went black I could still hear the soft sobs of the boy lull me to sleep.

Two weeks later, on February 26, I was living with my mom again. She finally trusted me to leave the house on my own. Every morning she would tell me the date, that I was born on November 5, 1996, that I had been in a car accident, and my name was Vanessa Brown. Oh, and that I was four months pregnant. My mother spared me the details of the father of my baby, no matter how many times I asked about him. After the car accident, I became a psychogenic amnesiac, which meant my memory was like a peach with fuzz all over and I didn’t remember anything that happened before the crash.

Ever since I started living with her, I would wake up shaking, my face wet with tears. I never told her, but I’ve been having these dreams where this boy is chasing me, and I keep running from him. Even though I want to stop, and trust him when he says he won’t hurt me I don’t listen.

I walked out of the elevator of our apartment around eleven in the morning. I saw a small shop across the street entitled “Henry’s Coffee Tree” and walked over. I reached for the door when I realized I had no money with me. I took a step to the side to let the passerby’s behind me get through. My heart began to pound. I was having another panic attack. They started recently, and they feel like my heart is trying to beat its way out of my body. My mind gets all frazzled and I break out into a cold sweat. I crouched down and pulled my legs into my chest and tried to breathe deeply.

“Excuse me, can I buy you a cup of coffee, ma’am?” a boy with blue gray eyes asked me.