Only one light lit the building’s façade; all the other rooms were dark.
She tested the front door. It was unlocked. She walked inside and into the elevator before pressing the round button with the number seven on it. The doors closed and she began to rise. When the small room reached the next floor, a tiny bell rang through a speaker. She listened to the bell six times before the doors opened silently and she stepped into the hallway.
The carpeted floor silenced her footsteps. The door on the right was ajar, and artificial light spilled onto the opposite wall.
She walked up to the entrance and looked inside. A middle-aged man with greying hair and small glasses sat at a wide desk, tapping rhythmically on the keyboard and glancing up at the monitor every once in a while. She made her presence known by tapping on the open door.
The doctor jerked his head up quickly, surprised by the sound. He watched her for a long moment, and then sat back in his chair. He took his glasses off and placed them carefully on the desk’s wooden surface before speaking.
“Rebekah. A bit late, is it not? How can I help you?” he swallowed uncomfortably. Rebekah took a step in. She hugged her arms, feeling small: but to the doctor, the room seemed to make her presence bigger, more obvious.
“Well,” she started softly, “Dr. Jalez, you could start by using my real name.”
Dr. Jalez tried to hide his anxiety without success. “What do you mean?”
Rebekah’s hands trembled slightly, “They- they came back,” she choked. Dr. Jalez watched her with horror. She bit her lip and looked out the window, “I remember everything. Except my name. Names. Both of them.” She chose that moment to look at the doctor. He gripped the armrests tightly, and his face had drained of color as he watched a couple of tears run down Rebekah’s face. When she saw that he wasn’t going to say anything, she took a deep breath and wiped her cheeks with the back of her hand. “But it’s going to be okay,” she continued, “because we can-”
“No,” he interrupted her.
She watched him for a long moment, “What?” she whispered.
“I- you can’t do it again,” he started, standing up and rubbing his hands together nervously.
Rebekah smiled bitterly, but there was no life in the movement. She looked tired, and wasted, “Third time’s the charm.”
“You can’t ask that of me!” Dr. Jalez paced to the window, “Your chances of surviving a third operation would be minimal.”
“That’s what you said last time, too,” she whispered. Neither of them spoke for a long moment. Then she broke the silence, “What was my name? My first one, I mean.”
The doctor turned to look at her, and his face was pained, “Alice. Alice Brunin.”
Alice nodded thoughtfully, “I’ll keep my first name, this time.”
“What about your sister?”
Alice reached into her duffel bag and tossed something onto the desk. The car keys clanged noisily.
“Meredith is busy at the moment.”
“Looking for her car keys?” Dr. Jalez demanded, disgusted, “And hoping her sister hasn’t pulled the plug yet?”
“This is my life,” Alice answered angrily, “Meredith has no idea what I’ve been through. I can’t live like this…” she trailed off pleadingly. Dr. Jalez looked away. “Please,” she pressed.
He pressed his fingers to his temples, “Assuming that you do survive a third operation, you’d end up even more changed than before. You wouldn’t be able to compute normal thought process. You’d have to be fed orders, all day, every day, for the rest of your life.”
“I’ve already made arrangements with someone.”
“Who?” he demanded.
“It doesn’t matter. Are you going to help me or not?” Alice ignored his provocation, for she knew, she knew it all, but there was no other choice. Even now she felt a hole inside her, slowly eating away at her existence. She couldn’t carry on like this. The hurt was too great.
“Not.”
“Then I’ll go to someone else,” she threatened, “I’ll find another doctor to help me.”
“Don’t be stupid,” he admonished, “I am the leading expert in this field. You would have even less chances of survival in someone else’s hands.” Their gazes met, and he was unable to look away.
“That’s why I need you.”
“No.”
“You said it yourself, that you are my greatest chance. You have to help me, Dr. Jalez. You have to help me forget again.”
![[send message]](https://www.writerscafe.org/images/mail.png){kind=small}
![[befriend]](https://www.writerscafe.org/images/friend.png){kind=small}
Share This
Email
Facebook
Twitter
Read Request
My Library
Flag Writing