ALICE’S POV
I shrieked in pain as the nurse injected me through the vein. It was the first time I was getting injected through the vein. At least that’s what I thought before three little children rushed into the room, beaming with smiles.
Even though the doctor had warned them to be gentle with their hugs, they clearly paid no heed to him as they threw their arms around my neck in a tight embrace.
I was stunned. Who are these children, and why are they hugging me as if we have known each other forever?
“Mom! You frightened us; I thought we were going to lose you just as we had lost grandpa, said the adorable young boy.
I quickly extracted myself from their embrace while prying into their eyes.
“I believe you guys are mistaken,” I replied smoothly. “I’m not married, and I have never given birth before.
I saw them look at each other in shock, then one of the girls spoke up.
“Mom! Are you okay? You brought us to the hospital with Grandpa when he collapsed last night.” I listened with keenness as the little girl narrated a story that I found to be too shocking to be true about my identity.
“We saw you slump, and the nurses caught you before you got to the ground.”
The other two nodded in agreement with whatever she said, and I suddenly began to feel pity for them.
“Okay, kids, I know there’s a mix-up somewhere. Did you ask the doctor about your mom? I believe she will be in one of the rooms.”
I saw them shake their heads simultaneously. “You’re our mother,” they chorused, almost in tears now.
The nurse watched as I conversed with the keys and only stepped into the conversation when she noticed that I was not playing pranks on the kids.
“Ma’am, the kids are right; they arrived here with you yesterday night,” she added politely.
It was my turn to be shocked. I stared at the adorable kids who said I’m their mother.
I could not remember anything about them, nor could I remember anything else.
My mind was totally blank, and nothing was in my head at the moment.
My eyes span the room until they rest on a phone on the tiny table beside my bed.
As I swipe the screen, my eyes behold a picture of me and the three kids smiling gleefully.
They were right. But why couldn’t I remember anything? Not even my name or where I lived.
I could still feel the ache around my backside, and my chest felt quite heavy.
Suddenly, the door burst open, and a very doctor emerged in the company of a young man who rushed to my bedside upon entering the room.
“I am really sorry, Alice. I just heard about what happened to your dad.”
There goes another shocker. Which dad is he talking about?
I blinked hard to swallow the words he said and only looked up when he also gathered me in a tight embrace.
“How are you feeling? The doctor said you passed out on hearing the news.”
“I wouldn’t say I’m feeling any good. My back aches, and my head is spinning.”
He finally released me and went on to circle the kids in an embrace too.
“Your mom will be okay. I promised we would take her home soon.” I watched him smother their hairs with the back of his palm and concluded that he would probably be an uncle to them.
“Uncle Alec, mom doesn’t remember all.”
“Of course she does. She only needs to rest to feel better, that’s all.”
“You don’t understand, Uncle Alec; she doesn’t remember anything.”
I saw his eyes widen in shock, and he removed his eyes from the crying children and rested them on me.
“Alice, is it true? You don’t remember anything.”
I nodded in affirmation, unsure of how to respond to the obvious question.
He dropped to the floor and looked at me in pity.
“No, this can’t be happening right now.”
“Where’s your phone?
I stretched out my phone to him, and he hesitated before asking me to unlock it since the phone was on a privacy lock
“I do not remember the pass lock,” I muttered, glaring at them for a hint.
“I know it,” the little boy replied, filling the space between Alec and me.
He took the phone from me and punched in some keys, and afterwards I watched in amazement as the phone successfully opened and he handed it back to me.
I was convinced that the kids were mine. My convictions were staring me in the face.
The several pictures in the gallery were pictures I took with them in a place that looked like our home.
“That’s grandpa,” the little boy pointed out when I stumbled upon a picture of a middle-aged man in black shorts and a navy blue shirt.
I continued going through the folder until I stumbled upon a copy of a marriage certificate that was signed in my name.
I zoomed through the certificate for a proper view of the name of my husband, but it seemed like the more I zoomed, the blurrier it became.
If I were truly the mother of the children, it meant that I was married, and if I was married, where was my husband? And why is he not here yet?
All these were questions that clamored for answers in my head.
The doctor took in the expression on my face and motioned for the nurse to help me sit up.
“Miss Spicer, your issue seems to be a very unique one.” He continued, “This is the first time I’m having such an issue in this hospital; there is no trace of stress or anxiety, yet you’re down with paramnesia.”
“Doctor, will I ever remember anything?
He looked at me and answered sincerely, “I do not know how soon.”