Chapter Eleven: Memories

                                    

                                          

I woke up crying. 
                          
"Callista!" My mother called, rushing to my side. 
                          
"What's wrong Callista, why are you crying?" She asked gently, using her thumbs to wipe away my tears. 
                          
I couldn't answer her. 
                          
It had been three days since I had regained consciousness, and ever since then I had been plagued by nightmares. Nightmares from my past life. 
                          
Until now, I didn't have a single memory regarding any of my relationships in my past life. I decided that it was a good thing, since any attachments to my past life would probably make me suffer. I was right, and now, I was suffering.
                          
"I'm okay mom, just a bad dream." I said, trying to calm my tears. The past weeks had already been extremely stressful for my mother, I didn't want to worry her any further. She had been staying in my room since I woke up, and I'm not sure if it was her mother's instinct, but she definitely knew that something was wrong. 
                          
"You know you can tell me anything sweetie," She whispered, planting a kiss on my forehead. 
                          
"Yeah," I lied. 
                          
My mother climbed into bed beside me, pulling me into a hug. She had been doing this for the past two nights after one of the maids had called for her to help calm me down after waking up screaming from one of my nightmares. 
                          
"I'll be right here, okay honey." She said into my hair. 
                          
"Okay mom."
                          
After a few hours passed, exhaustion began to take over my body. It didn't matter how desperately I wanted to stay awake, I had lost control, and in the second I closed my eyes, I had already been dragged into another nightmare.
                          
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Dad? ... Mom? ... Where am I?
                          
The ground underneath me was rough and uncomfortable, but I couldn't seem to muster enough strength to get off of it. What had happened again? Just a second ago I was in the car before... Where are my parents?
                          
I tried to move, but my body wouldn't listen. The smell of burning rubber clogged my nose, while a cacophony of shouts and sirens filled my ears. 
                          
"I see someone, it's a girl! Call the EMTs!" A man's voice shouted. 
                          
"Someone will be here soon, hang in there." He said, kneeling down next to me. 
                          
"M-mom," I rasped as I tried to move again. My fingers stirred. 
                          
"Don't worry, someone will be here soon," The man said, and for some reason, I believed him. My eyes grew heavy and I couldn't hold on anymore. Everything went black. 
                          
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I was fifteen years old the day my parents died. The fire fighter who found me decided to take me in after hearing that I had no other family. His name was Christopher. He was kind. 
                          
It took about two years for me to adjust to my new reality. Luckily, Christopher was extremely understanding since also knew what it felt like to lose family. His wife had passed away three years before meeting me. I can't say that the two of us had a father daughter relationship, but we took care of each other, and slowly, I began to look towards my future too. 
                          
Though my grades weren't all that great in high school, I had decided to study medicine. Maybe it was because I wanted to stop people from dying like my parents, but honestly, it was probably just to do something to numb the pain. If I became a doctor, maybe I would feel less guilty for surviving.