'You're not abnormal Bella, know that?' the father figure of my life said looking straight into my eyes with my hands captured into his larger one.
I smiled through my car's driver side window and gave him a squeeze, 'I sure do, Albert.'
'Have a safe journey, dear.'
'Bye.' For the last time Albert gave me a squeeze and let it go. I left the house named 'Spencer's'.
Every one does not have some unique qualities, but those who have, world becomes a tough place for them. In another word, that quality makes them to be different separated somehow. And then comes a day when they start asking themselves, 'am I normal?'
This is my story. I'm Isabella Bradshaw. Don't ask me any further details because I can't satisfy you. I don't know my past. That's why I needed to come to my Councillor, Albert Spencer.
In his words one day he found an eighteen year old girl freezing beside some dustbin barely clad with adequate clothes on an evening of chilly December.
He took pity on that girl and brought her home. He gave her warm clothes, provide her food. And the girl slept until next afternoon. Then that betrayer ran away from his house. The only thing she took with herself was the chart he made collecting information from this girl.
That chart said that my name was Isabella Bradshaw. I was approximately 5'9"; my weight that time was 120lb. I represented a shaven head, an anaemic, ill-nutrient skin and some other medico stuff that didn't penetrated my thick skull. Only one thing I memorised; my name. I recited it like that was the only word I had ever learnt. I roamed about for several days but ultimately gave in and returned his house.
There his tried his best to make me recall my past. But I was too blanked out. I was helpless and ready to give in but he made me realise that even without knowing much about ourselves like anyone.
'You're the one who has lost her memory Bella, not the one who has lost her past,'
'But what the difference does that make?' a frightened young girl cried in severe insecurity.
'It does Bella. We live in present. Neither past, nor future dictates what we should do and what should not. But every passing moment does. If you believe in God I must say, he has given you the chance to make the one of your own. He took away your past so that it can't be an obstacle in your future. He has done this because he wants you to make your future brighter. Not anyone has this chance Bella. Don't put your back against it.'
Albert's soothing words were like warm blessings to me. He did everything for me even knowing I might not co operate. About one and half year later I found myself in a better way, a newer Isabella Bradshaw.
My health recovered and I coped up with strong muscles. My physical fitness and quick reflexes made me eligible for the job Police. Not in higher ranks but it was enough for me to bear my own expenditure. But the main problem with this job was they used to transfer their employees throughout the state. So when my transfer letter came, Albert, the sixty five year old 'kid' cried at the news, as if he was separating from someone of his own. I came to know gradually that he had a five year old grandchild who died four years ago. My heart ached seeing his eyes get moist. But I convinced him somehow and left for my job at Seattle, Washington.
Since that day I used to spend my holidays at Olympia with Albert when ever my busy work schedule provided time. And I came to know the fact that I love driving. The journey from Seattle to Olympia was always great; it always felt like homecoming.
But returning Seattle was difficult. Today was no exception. When I hit the Highway my eyes pricked and started getting wet. Every 'good-bye' from Albert made me pathetic. As I discovered myself I found I wasn't that 'crying' type of girl? Even in much pain I don't feel like break.
I was a peculiar girl and the most peculiar thing about me was I was a Mentalist.
It didn't hit me until I wasn't at Seattle.
It was one of the early days of my work. I was investigating on some murder case and my duty was to interrogate a suspect. As I remained looking at his eyes, everything went black for an instance. Then it filled with bright white light and later the picture in front of me was a room. As if I was sitting in someone's living room. It felt too known to me. But that instance I couldn't remember the exact place. But a cold wave passed through my pine as I saw the lady arguing with someone. She was the lady who had been murder a day ago. The scenes kept going on and I just watched how the lady was murdered. Then again every drop of light washed away and I was back in interrogation room.
I was totally spellbound. What had I just seen? Was that real? Did I dream that? Oh God! For heaven's sake, I couldn't now start daydreaming with open eyes!
I felt nausea tic for a moment and I went for washroom. I splashed cold water on my face over and over. Then a realisation hit me. I didn't know the clothes the lady was wearing at the time of murder. I even didn't hear about the name Will Parker anywhere in her history. But when I was in that trance I knew his name, as if I was into that suspect's body. As if he witnessed the crime.
It was bullshit. But it was so real. It felt like if I wished I could almost touch the lady.
But the fact was that the suspect was not her murderer. I didn't know my senior officers would listen to me or not but I had to save that innocent person. I took a deep breath to gather my courage and asked my fellow officer to search this Will Parker, the nephew of this older lady.
Any information about the case was true and Will Parker ultimately confessed his crime.
But I went sick with the realisation about the fact that I was some kind of Freak!
I thought for a psychiatrist and contacted him. He informed that it was normal for some people to see what was not real. He kept on telling his bullshits and I started getting distracted bit by bit. Then I felt goose bumps rose at the back of my neck as I kept looking at the picture kept on his table. It was a picture of baby girl. I saw for a moment that the girl fell form cliff into the sea and died. My eyes broadened as came to the reality. I gulped and asked the doctor with breath caught in my throat,
'Where's Rosie?'
He stopped as if someone had slapped on his face
'What the hell you're talking about?'
'She is in Florida, with your wife. Isn't she? Call her immediately and tell her to stay away from any cliff or anything.
The words came out from my mouth but I wasn't actually saying them. I was horrified and terror captured me like it was going to engulf me. I left the doctor's chamber immediately and started running through the Alley. I didn't know where to go or where to find rescue from the terror. I felt extreme terror to look at anyone or make eye contact. I put on a sunglass even at night and roamed about. After two or more hours roaming aimlessly I stepped inside a bar and drowned myself in the alcohol.
Next day when I woke up I felt my whole body ache with pain. But in my mind I was too numb because I had cornered myself as a psych. I don't know when I called the doctor; his secretary informed that he left for Florida where a pathetic accident happened to his child.
The earth down my feet engulfed me as I remained there standing with the phone kept in my hand. The day passed like blur. I didn't know what to do with myself. I felt the terror again, terror to face anyone. I thought if I look at anyone I'll watch them die. I locked myself in the apartment and called sick at office. I paced back and forth in my apartment trying to figure out, trying to rationalise incidents happened with me.
I thought over and over but found nothing to recall from my past. I wasn't sure if it happened with me or not because I had no memory. But the way behaved in both incidents like I knew what I had to do. As if I knew I had to tell the doctor about his daughter as early as possible so that I could save the girl. It almost felt like an easy going reflex. As if I was familiar with these type of incidents. But unfortunately I had no memory to recall.
I kept locked up in my apartment for next two days. Then that night I saw him.
Earlier at Albert's I used to have night mares. Those were most of a particularly topic. I dreamt I was locked up in some tube with my hands tied up in hand-cuff. I was naked. My head was spinning with severe cold with in the tube. As I opened my eyes in surge need I saw the face smirking with evil smile. This time he said something. He said, 'welcome home Bella'.
When I woke up I was shivering even under two blankets. I was horrified, scared, frightened, and insecure. I didn't know how to win that face which always intruded my mind.
Next morning I woke up and even without the second thought I went for Albert.
He listened all of it with great attention. Then he stopped for w while and said, 'as you describe, it looks like I found you just you ran away from him. But I don't have the minimum idea what the hell he wanted to do with you.'
'Albert, how did you know my name? I mean when I woke up I couldn't remember my name. Then how did you?'
'It surprised me too when next day you couldn't remember your name. Because it was the last thing you said before you passed you that night.'
'Did I tell you my name?'
