Subconscious Mind

Part 5

His dad was home too for dinner, so his mother went straight to the kitchen to finish it.

“Gareth, dearie, could you please bring the plates to the table? Dinner is ready!”, she shouted from the kitchen only minutes later.

His father headed right to the table coming from the living room when he saw his wife and son coming from the opposite direction, their arms filled with plates of steaming food. Once the plates were on the table and the family members seated, they would have prayed when he was a child, but it had been more like a ritual for children to be thankful and devout, so that faded, when he grew older.

“I’m glad, we have you here again, son”, his father broke the silence and made Gareth involuntarily look up from his plate where he had been occupied with carving the unmanageable meat. His mother wasn’t a bad cook, she just didn’t like meat, so she never intended to get it as perfect as everything else she prepared.

After dinner, Gareth wanted to go upstairs, but his father stopped him.

“Your phone”, he said and held it out to him. “You lost it during the accident. And your mother forgot it when she went to the hospital to check in on you.”

Gareth took the phone and passed the dresser with the family portraits—which, much like in the song by P!nk, looked better than it often was by the time the pictures were taken— which he had to circumnavigate to get to the stairs. Suddenly, he stopped. He stepped a few steps backward, looked closer to a certain picture showing him and a somehow familiar green-eyed girl hugging each other intensely, and eventually took the picture frame from the dresser to inspect it even more. Who was this girl? He knew her. She wasn’t his sister—that was for sure.

“Dad …”, he started, unsure how to ask without sounding too stupid. “Who is this girl?”

The addressed sighed. “The doctor said, it might happen. But the amnesia will fade away in a few more days, he said. That’s why you’re certified sick for the rest of the week. This is …” he stopped a moment, thinking. “… your girlfriend.”

Part 6

“You don’t like her, do you?”, Gareth tried to remember.

“That’s true. But … when you sai