Earlier in the week, Sydney had been released from the hospital. She still had a scar on the left side of her forehead and bandages around her chest, but she’d spent almost a month recovering in the hospital, so she was getting better, physically at least. She still hadn’t remembered anything new, except for the fact that she was able to walk, which was a miracle to the Doctor.
“Look like you retained almost everything except your memories,” Dr. Schmidt had informed her earlier in the week, “You might’ve lost a couple things that you’ve known for a long time, but I can’t be positive.”
Sydney was at what was supposed to be her home now though. She didn’t want to go to school, since she wouldn’t remember anything, and she didn’t want to go outside, because of the scar. The woman who claimed to be her mother was being awfully nice to her though. Sydney didn’t feel comfortable calling her mom though, so she just called her Janie. She brought her chicken noodle soup, even though she didn’t have a sore throat, and she made really good deep fried calamari for dinner almost every night.
“This was your favourite,” she’d told her. Sydney could see why.
The only thing Sydney wasn’t happy with was the man who claimed to be her father. He was a drunken, abusive man, and Sydney had hated him from the second she’d seen him. The first thing he’d said was,
“Well, now maybe we can convince her to finally do some things around here!”
“Oh, shut up Chris!” said Janie.
“I’m serious! She has no idea what’s wrong or right! We could beat her!”
Sydney had been scared stiff when she’d heard this. She’d immediately ran to the room Janie had pointed out as hers and shut the door. Everything seemed so strange; it was as if Sydney was in someone else’s room.
Every night Sydney listened through the toilet-paper-thin walls to Janie and Chris yelling at each other. Every night she’d hear Chris yell about how he can’t deal with a “mangy, amnesiac daughter,” how he’d rather, “send her off to boarding school or some third world country!” Every night Sydney cried herself to sleep, not understanding why.
By her third week at “home” Sydney was ready to be shipped off to boarding school, in fact she prayed for it. She’d wake up every morning and plead to open air to leave the house. Finally, by the end of her first month out of the hospital, her prayers were answered.
“Sydney?” called Janie from the kitchen, “Could I talk to you for a minute?” Sydney jumped off her bed and walked into the kitchen.
“Well, Chris and I have been talking and we’ve come up with an idea,” Janie had been cooking on the stove and now she looked around at Sydney. “We’re going to send you to boarding school,”
“THANK YOU!” Sydney tackled Janie, wrapping her arms tightly around Janie’s waist and hugging her closely, “Thank you, thankyouthankyouthankyou!”
“Wh . . . what?” Janie’s eyes bulged out of her head as she looked down at the girl clinging to her waist.
“I really wanted to leave here, no offence, but you and Chris fight a lot!”
“You can hear us!?”
“Have you seen your walls?” asked Sydney, taking a step back, “They’re paper thin!”
Well, at least I didn’t have to deal with a screaming 16 year old, thought Janie.