Dream Sequence of the Time I Forgot. Ch. 6

I exited my bathroom wiping the last of the makeup from my face. My hair that I painstakingly blow dried earlier was now swept up into a messy bun on the top of my head. I walked with purpose to my stash of journals and whipped open the ottoman. The journals stared up at me. I hesitated. I was so gun-ho just moments before but now I paused. Do I really want to know? Yes, yes I do.

I bent down and pulled a stack of journals that started with ones I know were the ones I last wrote in ten years ago and tossed them onto my bed. I sat down next to them and stared back.

I took a deep breath and picked up Jennifer from ten years ago and began to read.

For some reason I thought there would be more life shattering information in them as I flipped through the pages for highlights.

 

November 15, 2006

Dear Jennifer,

Why cannot I save money for that pair of Uggs already!? I was so close then I got distracted by Ben and bought way too many drinks, now I’m back to zero saved. Friggin Ben.

Love,
Sarah

December 26, 2006

Dear Jennifer,

I GOT THE UGGS! My mom got them for me!

Love,

Sarah

 

February 2, 2007

Dear Jennifer,

I think something is up with Ben, he’s acting weird. We went from talking all the time to him barely IMing me back. Should I be worried?

Love,
Sarah

 

February 15, 2007

Dear Jennifer,

Ben was sooooo sweet for V-day! He got me roses and took me out to an amazing restaurant. We both got steak. The mashed potatoes were to die for. I hope we go there again. Can’t talk too much now, will fill you in more with details later.

Love,

Sarah

 

February 20, 2007

Dear Jennifer,

Ben is an asshole. We hate him now with all our hearts. That fucker led me on to believe we had a future on V-day, and now he’s telling me we aren’t even exclusive!? I just happened to be the lucky one who got him on V-day, while SHE got him the day before. Who the fuck is Emma!? I didn’t even like Ben that much, but still, he … ug.. That fucker… I can’t even right now.

-Sarah

 

February 25, 2007

Dear Jennifer,

After some online stalking I managed to figure out who the hell Emma is. Its he-who-shall-not-be-named’s high school girlfriend. Apparently they saw each other when he went back home for the holidays and ‘reconnected’. That fucking bastard. He wasn’t even that good in bed, why did I waste so much time on him? I’ve been asked out by other guys you know, right? But noooooo, I just had to have that jerk. That’s it not wasting anymore time on him, not going to think about him anymore.

Sarah

 

March 1, 2007

Dear Jennifer

He called me. I may have agreed to see him. What is wrong with me? Here is what I wished I had said. “Go to hell, you fucking asshole! I committed to you and you said you committed to me but you lied. Don’t speak to me ever again, have a nice life with your EMMA.” then I’d angrily slam the phone down because in my head I’m using an old rotary phone that you actually have to slam down to hang up. What I actually said however was, “Oh hi, Ben. Yeah, I guess we can meet up and talk.” I’m such a chicken shit.

Love.

Sarah

 

March 2, 2007

Dear Jennifer,

I saw him. Apparently he misses me. I have to say I miss him too. What is wrong with me? Why did I say that to him? Why did I say I’d give him another chance? I kinda hate myself right now.

Love,

Sarah

 

March 4, 2007

Dear Jennifer,

Nope, I’m officially done with that douchebag. Yup, nope, it’s over. He missed me, but didn’t bother to tell Emma that he and I were going out again. What a fucktard. I said something to him like, “It’s nice to be back together with you.” which would imply that we were in fact dating again, like boyfriend and girlfriend. His response?! “Oh well, we aren’t exclusive, we discussed this.” WE FUCKING DISCUSSED THIS?! When the fuck did we did discuss this you may ask? Oh back after Valentine’s day when I found out I was no longer the only one. You’d think he knew how bad of a reaction I had last time for him to think I’d be anywhere cool with not being exclusive. I really wish I had a drink in my hand to throw in his face, or done something super dramatic like kick him in the balls. Instead I just walked out. Please don’t let him convince me to get back with him.

Love,

Sarah

 

I seconded the thought of past me, that I wish I had kicked him in the balls. I remember Ben, since in my memories that I still had, I was still dating him. He didn’t seem like the type to pull that crap. Maybe I should hunt him down and kick him in the balls, I feel like I could get Eloise on board to help me. She seems like she might have kicked some balls in her day. I couldn’t read Jennifer anymore, I was too angry. No, actually, I was pissed. I knew it technically happened nearly ten years ago, but the wounds were fresh. I trusted him, how could he put me through that!? I knew Ben wasn’t in my life now, obviously, but I had hoped I had at least dumped him in some sort of epic fashion. Why did I have to be so wishy-washy? Why couldn’t I have thrown a drink in face and stormed out, or something equally dramatic?

I paused for a bit to let being dumped sink in. I just kept reminding myself it didn’t just happen, but it really felt like it did. I had a pit in my stomach and my eyes watered as I tried to hold back tears. I got up and washed my face with cold water. I took a deep breath then went and picked up Teddy for a change of pace.

Teddy was a bit more easy to read. The entire journal that I left off in covered the span of about two years and for the most part just talked about movies and television shows I wanted to watch or had just watched and wrote some sort of review. I started dog earing pages for things I thought I should watch. Then I just pulled a blank notepad and started writing a To-Do list.

I also had a few pictures of my cosplaying at comic-con with my friend from high school, Raina, in Teddy. I should connect with her again. I added her to my To-Do list. Though I do remember seeing her on my Facebook page so I may not be as out of touch with her as I think. I’m glad I did put some mementos inside my journals over the years. I did notice when I had a cursory glance at my journals many had random candid shots, though as the years went on it appeared I relied more on digital social media for my photographic evidence of life.

I felt I was mentally appeased enough to actually dive back into one of my journals that might hold a bit more hard hitting stuff, including the mysterious Cole.

I picked up Thomas again, and stroked his cover before opening the first page.

 

April 28, 2013

Hello Thomas,

My name is Sarah, we’re new to each other. I needed a new confidant. My normal friends I just didn’t feel comfortable speaking to. I sort of mentioned to the others but it just felt off. All the weird stuff happened a few weeks ago when I was coming home from a bar. I met a random guy from Tinder for a quick drink. Let’s call him The Asshat. I wasn’t too enthused to go out with him to begin with. He showed up 45 minutes late. The only reason I stayed was because I ordered food and it just got to me when The Asshat finally showed up. Stupid stomach wanting food. Anyway, pretty sure he was late because he was coming from a different date before me. He smelled like J’Adore perfume, which last I checked men didn’t usually wear as cologne. I digress however, I really couldn’t duck out of this date. I’m pretty sure he wanted a one-nighter. I managed to escape only to discover it had started to rain. I would have called an uber but I was afraid if I lingered at the bar he’d figure out I left. Kinda a dick move, I know, but trust me it was necessary. So I figured I’d just walk home since it was only about a half mile away and I was wearing flats. I tried to walk fast and the streets were empty. I was maybe halfway home when I realized something was following me. Something, not someone. When I looked behind me it looked like a dog, but a really BIG dog. It was raining so hard that it was getting hard to see, so I tried to walk as fast a possible without actually running. Because dogs will chase someone who runs, go go being a dog walker for a few years. I think the dog read my mind and came after me. I was an idiot and turned the wrong corner thinking I was going down a side street but it was actually a dead end alley. The dog, it was bigger than anything I’ve seen. It was bigger than a mastiff and was jet black with gleaming red eyes. I’ve never been so scared in my life, I couldn’t even scream for help. I was paralyzed in fear. I know what the deer in headlights feels like now. He lept for me, I know he bit my arm, it almost felt like he tore it off, but clearly my arm is still intact even though there are nasty scars. When I woke up in the hospital the police mentioned there was so much blood they were surprised it hadn’t killed me. A man saved me. Cole. I don’t remember him at all except for a glimpse as I passed out. He was tall, or seemed tall as I was laying on the gross alley ground. He looked Indian, he was sexy. I do remember that he was sexy. It’s weird what you remember in hindsight. I don’t know if he scared the dog away or what. But suddenly the dog was gone and he was carrying me to an ER only a few blocks from my apartment. I just was released from the hospital. I’m still trying to process what I do remember seeing. It really felt as though my arm was torn off, the dog didn’t look natural, but what other explanation can there be? And Cole, he seemed to glow when he carried me, but it was raining and dark with random street lights. So maybe it was that? I don’t know. I have to think about this some more.

Thanks for listening.

Sarah

 

So, that was the dog attack. I looked down at my arm that had a light bandage and brace on it still and tore it off. I didn’t really need the bandage and brace as it was mostly healed, the doctors just suggested I have it to protect it for a little while longer to avoid any long term damage. I examined my arm. I had looked at my arm while showering when I had taken the brace and bandages off before but now I really looked at it. Knowing the dog had nearly ripped off my arm made me see the jagged scar above my elbow in a new light. I had previously thought it was part of my more recent accident but now I saw it was fully healed and much older. My newer scars were still pink and slightly swollen, but this one was a silvery flat scar.

I traced the scar around the circumference of my arm. It was jagged in some areas where the skin tore but overall pretty straight around my bicep. I looked for more older scars on my body that I didn’t recognize. I pulled my shirt off and tried to look in the mirror and I saw more silvery scars laced across my back, some looked like claw marks, others on my stomach and legs were smaller points like something had pierced the skin. They must have also been from the dog attack. The dog must have been very large.

I pulled my shirt back on and replaced the brace on my arm. I sat back down and picked up Thomas.

 

March 1, 2013

Dear Thomas,

I feel like I’m going a bit crazy. What I remember from that night, and what people tell me what happened just don’t add up. I know I’m not a doctor or anything, but my wounds seem far more healed than they should be. My mother just chalks it up to good genes, but its not that. I have full use of my arm, despite it being nearly ripped off. It’s been just about 3 weeks from the attack. My arm doesn’t even hurt, it’s healed and scarred, the bones don’t appear to be even broken. I broke my arm in fifth grade, that took a good 6 weeks before I got the all clear by my doctors. And my doctors are acting like my seemingly miraculous healing is nothing. Why is no one else thinking this is strange!? Eloise and Claire seem to keep forgetting I was even attacked by a dog. How can they forget that? It literally just happened. I mentioned how fast my arm healed to them and they were like “oh you hurt it?” I took pictures of my injury and I made sure to print them out and label them to track the healing progress just in case I start forgetting myself.

-Sarah

 

This is getting weirder and weirder. Eloise and Claire did seem to forget I was attacked by a dog until they really thought about it. And based on what I wrote in Thomas it seemed like it was a pretty awful and gruesome attack. At first I thought their lack of recollection meant it wasn’t that bad. But now I’m thinking something else was going on.

 

March 5, 2013

Dear Thomas,

I think I’m going to have to find Cole. The guy who saved me. I vaguely remember what he looks like, I think. Maybe the hospital could help me out finding him. He was there so he could tell me what happened better than anyone else.

-Sarah

 

March 8, 2013

Dear Thomas,

Well the hospital was a waste of time. They literally had no record of Cole bringing me in. No one on that night remembers him either. How the F is that possible? I somehow carried myself to the ER on my own? And they gave me a “this chick is crazy” look when I asked to look at the camera footage from that night. Apparently you need things like a “court order” or something in order to request such things. So I went to the police, they at least had a police report that mentioned Cole, but the police officer who questioned Cole didn’t think it necessary to get any of his contact information. Isn’t that required or something? At least he sort of remembered him, and agreed that Cole looked Indian, though his description didn’t involve my pain addled description of sexy. The cop did tell me where exactly it happened since I can’t quite remember myself. It was down the alley between a Food Mart and a closed bakery on 2nd Street. So I went there next, during the day, don’t worry. No need to get attacked again in the middle of the night. Despite the rain from the night of the attack weeks ago, I could still see blood stains on the ground. A LOT of blood stains. I’m wondering if some of it was the dog’s because if I had lost that much blood I should be dead. I took some pictures, then walked the direction the cop said Cole said he was coming from just because. I didn’t spot anything strange, though I wasn’t really sure what I’d expect to see.

-Sarah

 

I looked for my “crime scene” and injury pictures but didn’t see them inside the journal anywhere. I must have put them somewhere else. I tried to think of a place I might have stashed them. What would old Sarah do? I glanced around the room but nothing really stood out. There were a couple shoe boxes that had pictures in them that I knew of already, but I had already gone through them and I think I would have remembered seeing pictures of bloodstained pavement.

I picked up Thomas again and did a quick flip through the pages to see if any pictures fell out. One did. It fell face down and I picked it up. The back had my handwriting saying “Me and Cole”. I turned it over quickly. My face stared back at me along with a beautiful Indian man.

“There you are.” I whispered.

This was the mysterious Cole. The man who saved my life and was a large portion of my life from what I could see for the past few years but disappeared without a word. I clearly found him before without many clues, so maybe I can find him again. It was becoming pretty evident that he was the only person I could answers from. Hopefully I put some details in my journals about how I found him in the first place.

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