![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png)
![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
A walk down memory lane (4/11)
jaemin
PG
angst, fluff
937 words (total: 4654)
not betaed
Memory is a tricky thing. Love is too.
parts 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11.
Broken
"Once men are caught up in an event, they cease to be afraid. Only the unknown frightens men."
~Antoine de Saint-Exupery
The medication made you drowsy. You didn't like it even if took away the pain. They had told you you were lucky to only have a headache and a broken leg after having been hit by a car.
You thought you preferred a worse physical state with intact memories. The doctor had performed a little and quite strange exam on you - you couldn't remember what he had called it, you were stuck at the "mental" word and you knew there had to be "examination" in the name, and never mind because you had more important things to remember like, who were the people that came to see you. What you did remember was the diagnostic: retrograde amnesia.
You had forgotten memories of before the accident. And it was more than a few minutes or months, so they told you. The last memory you had, was the ceremony ending your last year of Junior High School. It was a happy one, you were fifteen, you had top marks, you had friends with whom you played basketball and you had all your life ahead of you.
He said it was most likely temporary, even though it was uncommon to lose so many years for your type (meaning mild) of brain injury. He was vague on the time it would take you - days, weeks, months, years - but did tell you what could most certainly help your memories to come back: seeing, hearing, smelling, tasting, touching and simply living familiar moments would perhaps compel you to make associations that would trigger some memories.
Going home was one of the first steps and it would occur the following day. They wanted to keep you forty-height hours on observation. You didn't mind staying at the hospital a bit more. The truth you were a bit scared of going in a foreign place with foreign people. You were even in a foreign country, which explained why your parents hadn't come. They had been very afraid when they learnt you were in an accident and even more when they heard you had lost memories. They had been cheered by the fact you had recognized their voices.
"Hey."
Four persons entered your room. Apparently you lived and worked together with them. Even though you tried hard, the only knowledge you had of them was from after. Before and after. Those two words were now very familiar but you couldn't help but wonder if they would continue to govern your life forever. Seeing their tired faces you pried that not.
While your thoughts had drifted, they had taken place around you. Yunho, the serious one with the gentle smile, had taken a chair and sat on your left. Yoochun leant on a window frame, his eyes wandering outside. You sometimes noticed an emotion a lot like guilt every time he looked at you. Junsu was sitting on your bed, already helping you to sit and arranging your pillow so you could be more comfortable.
Softly thanking Junsu, you turned your head towards Jaejoong, who looked uncertain. You patted the side of the bed that was still empty and he rewarded your effort with the saddest smile you had ever seen.
He sat and an uncomfortable silence settled in the room. You felt guilty.
"You remember when we said we worked together, well, we've brought our songs so you can listen and perhaps..."
Yunho put down on your lap an mp3 player. You frowned.
"It's yours."
The mp3 player was nice but it wasn't really what made you confused and he knew it.
"Our songs?"
"We are a group. We sing for a living and we are quite popular."
Yoochun snorted.
"Quite popular, you're underrating our success, Yunho."
"Want to scare him?!"
Junsu gave them a fearsome look.
"Well, if he wasn't afraid before, he should be now. Thanks, guys."
He took my hand and squeezed it.
"But you shouldn't listen to them. We do have a lot of fans but there is nothing to be afraid of."
Yoochun snorted again and you wanted to say that you were scared, more than ever in your life, but that you would be even if they told you you were a salesman or a doctor. Your work was just another unknown and like the majority of people, the unknown was your worst fear. It was even more frightening when you were the only one who didn't know your own life.
The light had always driven away the monsters hiding underneath the bed. Once known, there was nothing to be afraid of.
You put on the earphones and pushed play.
Yoochun's voice filled your ears. A soft introduction. A hopeful melody.
And somehow, when you understood the Japanese words, you felt like one day everything would be okay again.
You closed your eyes, some tears escaping from their corner. A laugh bubbled out from between your lips when you heard yourself sing and you thought the lyrics were strangely appropriate.
I’m just like reality
In the darkness of the night I am terrified
But I am not alone
At the end of the song you were drained. Ignoring the hopeful stares, you pressed stop and wiped your tears. You hadn't remembered anything. Yet. But you would soon and basking in this certitude, you asked Junsu to help you to lay down.
"Thanks."
You pushed play and closed your eyes, dreaming of bright suns and sad smiles.
jaemin
PG
angst, fluff
937 words (total: 4654)
not betaed
Memory is a tricky thing. Love is too.
parts 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11.
Broken
"Once men are caught up in an event, they cease to be afraid. Only the unknown frightens men."
~Antoine de Saint-Exupery
The medication made you drowsy. You didn't like it even if took away the pain. They had told you you were lucky to only have a headache and a broken leg after having been hit by a car.
You thought you preferred a worse physical state with intact memories. The doctor had performed a little and quite strange exam on you - you couldn't remember what he had called it, you were stuck at the "mental" word and you knew there had to be "examination" in the name, and never mind because you had more important things to remember like, who were the people that came to see you. What you did remember was the diagnostic: retrograde amnesia.
You had forgotten memories of before the accident. And it was more than a few minutes or months, so they told you. The last memory you had, was the ceremony ending your last year of Junior High School. It was a happy one, you were fifteen, you had top marks, you had friends with whom you played basketball and you had all your life ahead of you.
He said it was most likely temporary, even though it was uncommon to lose so many years for your type (meaning mild) of brain injury. He was vague on the time it would take you - days, weeks, months, years - but did tell you what could most certainly help your memories to come back: seeing, hearing, smelling, tasting, touching and simply living familiar moments would perhaps compel you to make associations that would trigger some memories.
Going home was one of the first steps and it would occur the following day. They wanted to keep you forty-height hours on observation. You didn't mind staying at the hospital a bit more. The truth you were a bit scared of going in a foreign place with foreign people. You were even in a foreign country, which explained why your parents hadn't come. They had been very afraid when they learnt you were in an accident and even more when they heard you had lost memories. They had been cheered by the fact you had recognized their voices.
"Hey."
Four persons entered your room. Apparently you lived and worked together with them. Even though you tried hard, the only knowledge you had of them was from after. Before and after. Those two words were now very familiar but you couldn't help but wonder if they would continue to govern your life forever. Seeing their tired faces you pried that not.
While your thoughts had drifted, they had taken place around you. Yunho, the serious one with the gentle smile, had taken a chair and sat on your left. Yoochun leant on a window frame, his eyes wandering outside. You sometimes noticed an emotion a lot like guilt every time he looked at you. Junsu was sitting on your bed, already helping you to sit and arranging your pillow so you could be more comfortable.
Softly thanking Junsu, you turned your head towards Jaejoong, who looked uncertain. You patted the side of the bed that was still empty and he rewarded your effort with the saddest smile you had ever seen.
He sat and an uncomfortable silence settled in the room. You felt guilty.
"You remember when we said we worked together, well, we've brought our songs so you can listen and perhaps..."
Yunho put down on your lap an mp3 player. You frowned.
"It's yours."
The mp3 player was nice but it wasn't really what made you confused and he knew it.
"Our songs?"
"We are a group. We sing for a living and we are quite popular."
Yoochun snorted.
"Quite popular, you're underrating our success, Yunho."
"Want to scare him?!"
Junsu gave them a fearsome look.
"Well, if he wasn't afraid before, he should be now. Thanks, guys."
He took my hand and squeezed it.
"But you shouldn't listen to them. We do have a lot of fans but there is nothing to be afraid of."
Yoochun snorted again and you wanted to say that you were scared, more than ever in your life, but that you would be even if they told you you were a salesman or a doctor. Your work was just another unknown and like the majority of people, the unknown was your worst fear. It was even more frightening when you were the only one who didn't know your own life.
The light had always driven away the monsters hiding underneath the bed. Once known, there was nothing to be afraid of.
You put on the earphones and pushed play.
Yoochun's voice filled your ears. A soft introduction. A hopeful melody.
And somehow, when you understood the Japanese words, you felt like one day everything would be okay again.
You closed your eyes, some tears escaping from their corner. A laugh bubbled out from between your lips when you heard yourself sing and you thought the lyrics were strangely appropriate.
I’m just like reality
In the darkness of the night I am terrified
But I am not alone
At the end of the song you were drained. Ignoring the hopeful stares, you pressed stop and wiped your tears. You hadn't remembered anything. Yet. But you would soon and basking in this certitude, you asked Junsu to help you to lay down.
"Thanks."
You pushed play and closed your eyes, dreaming of bright suns and sad smiles.