Chapter three

This is the most confused I have been in years, the last time I was even relatively confused was when I had not started college yet. I had graduated from high school and I had so many offers. All the colleges I applied to had accepted me and offered me so much more than I expected.

I remember I had so many sleepless nights trying to pick which one to go to, I am a perfectionist and that does not mean that I want everything or anyone I meet to be perfect. I just want things to be under control, so sometimes I obsess about things that are not in my control or outside my knowledge.

I obviously ended up picking the college that I am in now and I don’t regret it a single bit. I have grown so much mentally and in so many ways. I have people that have challenged me to move out of my comfort zone, and this has been the happiest that I have been.

The happiest until now...Losing my memories feels so strange, I feel like I am being either being lied to by anyone I meet or I am being told the truth that I don’t remember. I don’t feel pain in any way but when I try to remember last night, it does not work. It is like I was not even alive yesterday.

“Mr. King,” The professor calls for my attention and I look toward him. Alive gives me a small smile and then starts to walk the opposite way, leaving me alone to face the professor.

“Be right there,” I reply to him and he folds his arms on his chest as I approach him.

“What was that?” He asks me in an annoyed tone and I look around as if he is talking to someone else.

“What do you mean?” I ask him and he raises his eyebrows incredulously.

“You don’t know what you did?” He asks me and then he chuckles.

“You walked out of my class when I was giving my quiz, Ryan,” He adds.

“Oh,” I say as I try my best to avoid his gaze. His facial expression then changes from annoyance to suspicion.

“Are you okay?” He asks me and I catch movement from the corner of my eye. When I look in the direction, I notice that it’s my roommate. He is in the classroom and showing hand gestures that I do not understand in the least bit.

“Um, actually, I don’t think so,” I say to him truthfully and his eyes follow mine. He sees my roommate giving hand gestures and sighs loudly.

“Kevin, get yourself out here!” The professor calls loudly in the class and almost everyone looks in our direction. Kevin wakes up from his seat with his quiz paper in his hand and he walks in our direction.

“Get back to work, everyone!” The professor speaks again and the other people staring in our direction turn their attention back to their papers.

We both watch Kevin get closer to us and when he finally reaches us, the professor takes the quiz paper from him.

“I’m not done yet,” He complains but the professor ignores his cries.

“Something is obviously going on between the both of you, and Ryan has been acting very stranger since this morning,” The professor’s voice is firm and strong.

Kevin and I both look at each other in response.

“Gosh, are you on drugs, Ryan?” The professor's distaste can be heard in his tone. I widen my eyes and I prepare to defend myself.

“No, no, it’s not what you think,” Kevin says at the same time that I say, “Of course not!” “Then what is it? Because I can tell that something is going on,” He asks us.

“I lost my memories,” I blurt out and Kevin sighs loudly in response. We both then wait for the professor to say something, but he only stares back at us as he squints his eyes at me.

“Okay, the two of you, follow me. I am sure the chancellor would love to hear about how his star quarterback is using drugs,” The professor says as he prompts her to walk.

We follow him but before we can walk any further, I stand my ground.

“Sir, I am saying the truth,” I argue and he stops in his tracks along with Kevin.

“Ryan,” He says my name in a disappointing tone, and I bet he still believes that I am on some sort of drug. Hell, I wish I was. That way I won’t be freaking out that I can not even remember if I have siblings or a pet!

“He is telling the truth,” Kevin backs me up and I nod.

The professor seems tentative but then he finally gives in.

“Okay, tell me how you lost your memories,” He says in a loose tone.

I take the next ten minutes to explain to him exactly what happened, including the fact that I almost bashed Kevin’s head in with a bat because I thought I was kidnapped.

“I can’t even remember the names of my parents, or even if they are married,” I say to the professor and by the time I am done explaining, he looks totally convinced that I did lose my memories.

“Have you seen the nurse?” He asks me and I wag my head as to say no.

“Follow me,” He says and then he leads Kevin and me down a hallway and out of the building we are in.

It is a beautiful day and it is sunny out. The birds are chirping and the light noise of passing students flows in the air. As Kevin and I follow the professor, almost everyone that passes by us greets me, either by saying “hey,” or by touching my shoulder and wanting a handshake.

I pretend as if I know them and I try my best to respond to everyone that reaches out to me, and believe me, they are a lot. Whoever I was before I lost my memories, I must have really been popular and respected.

Soon, we reach a building not too far from the one we exited at first. When we enter the building, we are led by the professor to a sitting area while he knocks on the door of an office. I watch him as he continues to knock and when he notices that I am, he smiles warmly at me and I thin my lips.

“Hey, man. Do you think I am sick?” I ask Kevin and I hear the door of the office where the professor was knocked open.

“Ah, Ryan, don’t think like that,” He replies to me but he does not look confident. Maybe I have had a disease all my life and it is now just showing. My memory loss may be linked to a brain tumor that I might have and it could be too late and I could have just a few more weeks to live.

So much is going through my head, and so much fear dwells in me right now that it makes my head spin.

“You are not sick,” Kevin says when he notices that I did not respond to him. His voice is more confident than it was before.

“I hope so,” I say under my breath.

A knock sounds on the door and Kevin and I look in the direction. It is the professor, he must have explained my case to the nurse. He gestures for me to go into the office and I stand to my feet.

“You are not sick,” I hear Kevin say once more before I enter the office. When I am in, The nurse closes the door shut, leaving Kevin sitting outside alone. His words keep playing in my mind and I use them as an anchor to keep me from freaking out.

I take a seat in the chair that faces a wooden desk that has a rolling chair behind it. The professor sits in the other empty chair that is available.

The lady whom I assume is the nurse walks away from the door when she has closed it and sits behind the huge mahogany wooden desk. The desk is shiny and has a lot of medical-related things on it.

“So Mr. Wells here told me about what is going on with you. He told me that you explained everything you remembered so far,” She says to me, her smile is contagious but not just contagious enough to make me smile.

“He said that you don’t also remember your whereabouts last night,” She continues and I frown.

“Yeah, but how does that help me?” I ask her and she maintains her smile, trying to make me feel as comfortable as possible. Well, it isn’t working.

“It would help us understand what happened to you and then we can help you,” She replies to me and I see the professor nodding in agreement.

“That’s the thing, I don’t remember, why don’t you people get it?” I ask in annoyance.

“Ryan, you were at a party last night, one of your best friend’s,” The nurse says after a few seconds of silence.

I really wished I could have a clue of what she is talking about, but I do not. I don’t remember last night nor do I remember a party. I don’t even remember having a girlfriend whom I have been dating for four years, then how would I even remember a best friend?

“We think you took some drugs that may have triggered your loss of memory,” She adds.

“It’s very likely that your brain is just trying to adjust to such drastic changes caused by the drugs and that may be why you can’t remember,” The nurse keeps talking.

“And how did you diagnose me, by me just walking through the door?” I ask her in a sarcastic tone and she chuckles.

“No need to be rude, Mr. King,” Professor Wells scolds me but I ignore him.

“We have had a lot of similar cases, Ryan. Maybe not as serious as yours, but very similar,” The nurse says and I scoff.

“Has any one of the cases you have had with drugs been a loss of memories?” I ask her and she wags her head as to say no.

“But...” She begins but I give her no time to speak.

“Can you please call my parents so I can be taken to an actual doctor?” I ask and both of them look shocked by what I just said. I don’t regret it one bit.