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I'm certain I know her; there is something about her eyes I recognise from way back. Perhaps it's the way they catch the afternoon light, turning from almost black to dark hazel. I've met her before, I'm sure of it, but just can't place her. Distant dreams flicker through the fog that blankets my thinking, but no name comes to mind, and I'm left with an empty feeling in the bottom of my stomach. As she talks I watch as small creases appear and disapper at the sides of her mouth; her skin dry, her lips pale. She seems to know me, and gently places her hand on my arm. 'Who are you?' I finally enquire, but she just smiles at me sadly.
Without warning, my confusion as to her identity changes to colossal rage. 'Who are you? Get out of my house!' I scream. Startled, she quickly pulls her hand away. But gathering her composure, she tells me I'm in a hospital. 'What? No! This is my house, my bedroom!' I scream in desperate reply, 'That's my television, and there's my window, and those are my flowers.'
Despite my rage, she sits on the bed next to me, and attempts to
take hold of my hand again.
Then,
suddenly her name comes to me,
'You're Betty, aren't you! You're Betty from the office. I haven't seen
you for years. What are you doing in my house? Suddenly, my fury
subsides
and a warm feeling spreads across my chest. 'Betty. What's
happening to me?'
'I'm not Betty, Dad. It's me, Lizzie. Your daughter. You remember,
don't you?
Please remember.'
She sighs
loudly and her eyes become watery. I can see her lips quivering
as she looks down at her hands now clenched
firmly in her lap.
Teardrops trickle
down her cheeks. My hand moves across the crumpled
white sheet and I take hold of her hand. Who is she?
A tall woman strides purposefully into my room, her long white tunic fills my view. 'Time for your medication, Mister Jones,' her voice far louder than is necessary. I know her, I know her. In front of me is a small silver tray upon which are two tiny pills - pale blue and white, and a plastic beaker of what looks like water. I look up into her eyes. There is something about them I recognise from another place, from another time. Perhaps it's the way they focus not on my own eyes but on a point on my forehead. She's deliberately avoiding my stare. More distant dreams flicker through the fog. I try to remember yesterday, but there is nothing there. I look down at the smooth skin on my brown hands, then up at the two women's concerned faces. Outside my window, the branches of a tree are scraping against the window.
Adjectives
hazel:
Greenish-brown in colour.
colossal:
Extremely large.
startled:
Very
surprised, and perhaps worried or scared.
clenched:
Held
very tightly.
crumpled:
Full of folds.
concerned:
Worried.
Adverbs
deliberately:
Done with purpose.
Verbs
catch
the light:
When light shines on something and makes it shiny, or easy to see.
place:
To recognize someone or remember where you have seen them or how you
know them.
flicker:
Here meaning 'to appear for a short time but soon disappear.'
blanket:
To cover deeply.
come to mind: When something 'comes
to mind' you remember it.
be
left with:
To have something remain after other things have gone.
gather
your composure:
To make yourself calm and controlled again.
come
to you:
Here meaning 'to remember'.
subside:
To become less strong or severe.
sigh:
To breathe out noisily.
quiver: To
shake slightly, often because of an emotional reason.
trickle: If
liquid
trickles, it flows slowly in a thin line.
stride:
To walk quickly with long steps.
scrape:
To rub against a
surface so that slight damage or an unpleasant noise is produced.
Nouns
a
crease:
A small fold.
rage:
A period of extreme anger.
fury:
Extreme
anger.
lap:
The area at the top of your legs when you are sitting down.
tunic:
A piece of
clothing which fits loosely, and reaches to the waist or knees, and
often has no sleeves.
medication:
Medicine.
a
pill:
A small solid piece of medicine which you swallow.
a
beaker:
A cup, usually with no handles, used for drinking, made of glass or
plastic.
Expressions
way
back:
A long time ago.