Generation 3, Chapter 12: Each day is a gift and not a given right

I had never figured the ride to Starlight Shores to be so long.

Where others had the luxury to travel by airplane, I was afforded none of those. God, I hardly had any money left, not having gone to work in months, and of course, the pig-headed bosses at the university thought I didn't deserve to sap anymore of their limited funds for paid vacation.

So, in retrospect, it was truly a good idea to head back to my parents' home.

It was the only place I had fit in. True, I had never really felt too comfortable there, with Charlotte's constant nagging in my ears and my parents who regularly fought during my childhood over the fact that my dad might be leaving us, but in the end, it was the only place I could turn to.

Of course, there was always the small possibility that my parents no longer lived in Starlight Shores. After the death of Charlotte and all the memories that remained in that house, who could blame them? I certainly wouldn't have, but at the current moment, I hoped with all that I had that they were still there.

The rental car came to a quiet standstill on the opposite side of my childhood home. The lights were on already, even though it was barely 6 AM. Someone lived there. Now the question was: Who?

With feet slowly and hesitantly trudging towards the front door, it gave me time to observe the inside of the house. The furniture was still the same. There were two possible explanations for that. One, they rented/sold the house with the same furniture in it. Or two...they still lived there.

The hair, possibly that of a man, poked over the back of a couch. The color was identical to that of my father's.

So they still resided there. And they were awake.

Time came to a eerie standstill as my finger hovered over the doorbell. What would they say about the fact that I just appeared at their doorstep, or the fact that I hardly contacted them at all through the past few years?

I had no idea whether or not my mother and I were on better terms, but if it were up to Richard, he would have forced me to communicate with her again. However, with fifteen years of memories gone, I had no way to know for sure.

My index finger jabbed the button, and I quickly pulled it back. The melodious sound of the doorbell actually made me jump. What had happened to me? I had all of a sudden become someone that was afraid of every little crack and thud. I was a true coward, running away from my problems and seeking refuge with my parents.

All of my doubts receded as the door slowly opened, and my mother's head poked through. "Hello, can I help you?" she asked, one eyebrow raised questioningly. Her eyes scanned me from head to toe. Inside of her mind, it must have clicked. "A-Amelia?" she stuttered.

"Mom...," I croaked, barely able to contain the tears that were close to brimming over my eyelids. Eventually, I couldn't keep them under guard, and they started flowing in full force. I felt like a true idiot, crying in front of my mother. To save any dignity that I had left, I covered my face with my hands. "I messed up real bad, mom."

"The last time I heard anything of you was when Richard called and told us about the coma...," she breathed. "What happened, Lia?"

"I...don't know," I whimpered helplessly. I knew what had happened, of course, but at that moment, the thoughts I kept in my head jumbled together, not making any sense. "I...it's...The coma... When I woke up, I seemed to have lost fifteen years of memories. And then I went crazy."

"Amelia!" my mother gasped. "Sweetheart, you still remember us, right? Then why return? You always said you weren't happy here."

"It's all that I have...," I cast my gaze to the ground.

"Oh, sweetie, please, come in. You can unload all your burdens here. You're father is on the couch, you can start by talking to him a little," my mother beckoned me forward, wrapping a arm around my shaking shoulders. She gave them a small squeeze before steering me towards the living room. "Welcome home," she whispered with a smile.

How my parents found it in their hearts to forgive me was beyond my comprehension. After all the things that I had said to them at one point, completely pushing them out of my life... How could they be so nice about it all?

I didn't let that trouble me for long. At the moment, I had someone who cared about my problems, and who would actually listen to me. I was going to take full advantage of it while I had the chance.

"I always thought you deserved someone nicer than that Richard-boy...," my dad muttered, keeping one eye on the football score.

"That's because you thought that no man was good enough for your daughter!" my mother called from the kitchen. "But you did say that Liam seemed like a nice person."

Fantastic. My parents seemed to have thought that Liam and I would have made the perfect couple. If only they knew.

"Yeah, but he told me he was too focused on his career. I wanted grandchildren, so a career fanatic was out of the question."

"Could you two stop your incessant complaining about the man I chose in the end," I hollered, switching my gaze between the two. "Actually, can anyone tell me why I chose Richard?"

"How could we ever complain about Richard? He's just like your father, in many ways, just...nicer," my mom put the emphasis on the last word. "It's like they say: Opposites attract. He was intrigued by you, you hated him. Simple as that."

"Sounds like a recipe for disaster," I grumbled.

"In many ways, yes. But you two...you were so good together. He made you smile when you were depressed, he was there for you through hard times. I may not like the fact that my little girl got married, but at least I know the guy she's with isn't someone that would abandon her." My father chuckled lightly. "Plus, he's a hell of a football fan."

"Oh, daddy, you're so obsessed."

"I've told him that multiple times, but does he listen? Nope. So stubborn," my mother shook her head, starting to set out the plates on the dining room table. 

"Fine, I have an obsession with football and betting on it. But what about your fanaticism with shoes? You have an eternity to do anything that you love, and you start collecting shoes?"

"..." My mother fell silent, squared her shoulders and turned back to the stove. The smell that lingered in the air told me she was making French Toast, her specialty. It was the one thing she could cook and not burn to cinders.

"That's what I thought," my dad accepted his victory graciously, and turned his full attention back to me. "So, what exactly happened? You seemed quite distressed when you came in."

"Uh...," I hesitated. Truth be told, I wasn't exactly comfortable with talking to my father about my problems. That's what mothers were for. I knew she would never judge me, or poke fun at it sometime. My father, on the other hand, would. "It might be awkward if I started talking about it..."

"Trust me, throughout the past few years, I've had a lot of those."

"Like the incident in the men's bathroom," my mother called from the kitchen.

"Ooh, what happened?" I sat forward in my chair, intrigued by this topic. It sounded like many jokes were made over it.

"Nothing," my father quickly dismissed our words. "We're not here to talk about me, young missy. We're here to talk about you." The fact that he used "missy" in a sentence meant that he was done with joking around.

"Yes, sir," I answered immediately. "So, I, uh... You know how I don't have any recollection of my feelings towards Richard? Well, uh, because of that... I, uh, sort of had a fling with Liam." There. Finally, someone knew about it.

"Lunch is on the table," my mother called, providing an escape from an awkward situation. My dad definitely seemed to be dumbstruck, his face frozen in surprise.

"So that's the reason why you fled, huh?" my mother whispered as she placed the toast in front of me. "Did Richard find out?"

"No... It's more like I'm caught between the two of them. I thought I had feelings for Liam, but they proved to dissipate. And there's just something that's different when I'm with Richard. Maybe it's because I now know of the past we shared. I didn't really want to betray him like that, you know..."

"I don't know," she frowned, "but I'll try to understand to the best of my capability."

The delicacy in front of me smelled wonderful, and I started digging away at it immediately. The taste of Golden syrup was enough to make me shudder in delight. The combination of the two proved to be exquisite. "Do you think I could crash here for the night? Or maybe for a week, even? Just till I know what I should do."

The question seemed to unsettle her. "Actually... Your room has some, uh, occupants. We have guests over."

"Really? Who, exactly?"

"Just some old, nearly forgotten family members," a male voice chuckled, appearing from around a corner. "I'm Alex," he introduced himself.

"Oh..." I blinked, observing his facial structure. Something seemed extremely familiar about him.

"Yeah... Keep using that sarcasm, dad," my mother replied tersely. "Just look how many people in this room give a damn. Oh wait, no one does."

The man named Alex sighed. "You have your mother's wit, and of course, her uncanny talent to bear grudges."

Something my mother said was bothering me. She called him dad, as in...

"Woah. You're my grandfather?" I nearly yelled.

"Huh. That sounds strange. But yes, I am. Please, call me Alex. You must be Amelia, then."

"That would be me...," I chuckled, the atmosphere turning more awkward by each passing second. "So where's my grandmother?"

"Sightseeing, as she always does. The artist in her is in love with Starlight Shores. I'm actually on my way to go join her, so, see ya soon." He waved, and quickly slipped through the front door.

"We should also be going. I have something to show you," reaching for her keys, my mother stopped mid-reach to look at me. "Eh, I never did ask, but did you want a change of clothing? I'm guessing you've been wearing that for quite some time."

I almost hugged her out of gratefulness. "You have no idea."

As I stood in front of the mirror, something seemed wrong. The clothes that belonged to my mom fit snugly, and it didn't bother me to much. Perhaps it was the small comment my mom had made when she observed the image in the mirror: "You look a lot like your grandmother..."

It was no secret that I was the lucky one, inheriting the famous deep blue eyes that belonged to the Rose family. I had received compliments upon compliments. Where in the past I had accepted them graciously, now, I had a feeling I would be disturbed.

I never liked being compared to anyone.

"You ready to go?" I felt her hand on my shoulder.

"Yeah, just a minute. Where are we going, exactly?"

"Oh, that's not too important. But I can tell you this...we're walking all the way."

Switching out high heels for boots ended up being a fantastic idea.

Being out in the outdoors, where everything seemed familiar, felt great. Starlight Shores was beautiful in every way possible. Even the broken down buildings looked as if it had a strong sense of character, rather than being neglected.

"How far are we gonna go? I mean, I need to use a bathroom..."

"Amelia," the tone of disapproval came through strongly. "You seriously need to work on your stamina."

"I know...," I sighed. "But hey, I've been asleep for two months, and if I was ever fit in my life, I forgot all about it. So it's back to square one for me."

"Not entirely," she chuckled. "We're here."

Her words were puzzling. In front us stood the enormous gate that separated the graveyard from the road. My mind didn't provide an explanation to what her motive could be.

"The graveyard... Why did you bring me here?"

"Closure," she looked me straight in the eyes.

I never wanted to face the reality that my sister was dead, even though I had already experienced hallucinations of her in it. It was comforting, not thinking of it too often. But now, my mom forced me to think of it.

She lead me to a corner of the graveyard that was secluded from the rest. There stood a tall monument, flowers decorated around it. Charlotte's little corner. Her grave mirrored her personality and life: Colorful, and loved by all.

"All of these flowers...?"

"Some are from us, and some are from her friends. People still care about her, Amelia. I just wanted you to see that."

"That doesn't exactly help me in any way," I challenged her opinion.

"I thought it would. In part, you submerged your memories behind a barrier because of Charlotte's death. So many times I found you doodling away at your computer, writing diary entries. I knew they were writing about Charlotte. You never processed her death, Amelia, because you never did say goodbye."

She had a point: It was the first time I had come to the graveyard, and the first time I had come to visit Charlotte's grave. Perhaps that one stupid decision on my part was the cause of everything that went wrong. I never did find closure.

"Kaylin?"

My mother froze, her eyes widening. She apparently knew who was approaching us. "Oh shit," she muttered under her breath.

"Huh?" I was absolutely clueless as the person, who was definitely female, judging by her attire, came closer.

"Whatever you do," she whispered, "don't tell her who I am." She slowly turned her body away from me, hiding her face.

"Kaylin, is that you?" she asked again. From what I could guess of this character, she was going to pester us until she got her answer.

"Uh...," I turned to face her. She seemed to be in her mid-forties, maybe even fifty already. Could she be someone from my mother's past? She never really did reveal any of the dramatic tidbits, or who her friends were. The situation called on me to start lying. I didn't have a problem with that any longer. Deception seemed to be a new talent of mine. "I'm sorry, you must be mistaken. My name is Lydia, and that's my friend Tamara over there. You'll have to excuse her, she's very shy. She's also deaf, so she tends to sneak away from social encounters.

"Oh...," the hope that was in her voice faded. "I could have sworn..."

"That's alright, we all make such mistakes at least once in our life. Is, uh, this Kaylin person a relative of you? Is she buried here?"

She smiled slightly. "Not exactly. We were best friends once, almost thirty years ago. Sadly, when I was going through a hard time, I pushed her away. I have no idea where she is now, whether or not she still lives in Starlight Shores... Oh, where are my manners! My name is Janelle."

"Pleasure to meet you," I shook her hand. "I...know how you feel. I lost a best friend too. Funny thing is, we were never on good terms, yet we cared for each other."

"Ah," she nodded," I see. Is...that her?" she pointed to the grave.

"Yeah, it is... She died in a car accident. I was with her, which made it so much worse. While she didn't have a scratch on her...she died. Too much trauma to the spine, apparently."

"I'm so sorry... How long ago was this?"

"Twenty five years," I answered softly.

"And you still come to visit her? Wow... You're a true friend, then, Lydia."

"I wish I could have been a better one..." my gaze shifted to the clouds above. All of the thinking was taking its toll on me. The pain of the memories were there, battering away at my heart. I knew there was a good reason why I didn't think about it.

"You know," she started, following my gaze," my mother always said to me... 'Janelle, each day is a gift, and not a given right'. I don't know, she must have gotten that piece of advice from that one Nickelback song. I never really did care about what she said, until she died. Her words carried wisdom, and they helped me a lot. Sure, I don't live life to its fullest anymore, but you young people should. You have all the time in the world. It doesn't help looking back on the past, regretting things that you did. Live each day as if it were last and all that. It sounds clichéd, perhaps, but there's a life lesson behind it."

She was right. Not only were her words inspiring, but it gave me hope, and my solution was clear. I couldn't run away anymore. That was what my mom always did.

No. I would face my problems, even if they could lead me into chaos.

I was going to get my memory back, no matter how long it took.