Ghost in my Head

“And how are you feeling today Mandy?”

“Like I drank five bottles of wine last night.”

“Well, did you?”

Angela Gardener is one of the best therapists in Cambridge, so why my parents sent me to her I’ve no idea.

“Would I remember if I had?”

She laughs it off and writes a note in her book. Everyone always says they hate that therapists do that or that they’re too curious, but the scribbling of ink on a page to help her figure out, my diagnosis isn’t that interesting. I’ve been going to therapists since I was 12 after some kind of car accident, which cause my amnesia. The only problem is that Angela was my mom’s roommate in university so she tells her everything that happens, after our sessions.

“Alright, let’s try a new question,” she starts, ruffling through her notebook, “in that fun night of drinking, did you happen to remember anything?”

Bright flashing lights pinch the back of my eyes and blurry voices yell in whispers, before I’m blinking them away.

“Nothing.”

Grabbing at her necklace which sits on her pale skin, she thinks of a way to rephrase her boring words said to me, on repeat, for five years.

“I want you to try something new this time,” she exclaims, twirling her hand around in excitement. “Look at me.”

“And?” I scoff, staring into her brown eyes framed by pale lips and black hair.

“And-

“You alright, Mandy, love?” my mother asks, walking into the room. “Who are you talking to?”

“To Angela…” I drift off as I turn back to my therapist. “It happened again, didn’t it?”

“It’s okay darling, she’s gone, it’s normal to miss her.”

“Sometimes it doesn’t even feel like she’s gone,” I sigh as my mother wraps me in a hug.

“I know sweety, the roads were so icy it happened faster than anyone could have known.”