P.O.I (Person Of Interest)

I am Helen, well I was Helen, and then something happened. Something weird, something traumatizing, something mysterious. Follow my journey to find out how i solved the biggest investigation of all time.


4. Reality

So now you know the past, let's get back to the present.

I could hear the rhythmic beeping of the machine next to me and the pattering of peoples feet constantly going up and down. Yet I was unable to move, unable to speak. In my mind an episode of the accident was about to come to an end, when almost simultaniously I woke from my deep slumber. The beeping of the machine increased briskly and three doctors flooded into the room. I reached outwards and screamed for Samira. The doctors looked at me, confused before instructing some nurses to hold me down. I screamed and fought to get them off me, but they just held on tighter. I was injected with a clear fluid, then a sudden wave of weakness enveloped my every urge to fight back and I slumped back into my pillow. I was alone and weak. I wanted the only person who really cared about me - Samira. Even if it was just for a second. My eyes drooped until I had no more energy to hold them open.

It seem like I had been sleeping for weeks. When I finally woke up, I realized my sleep had only lasted a few hours long. The sleeping drug hadn't worn out yet so I was still feeling like death warmed up. The room was bleached white and completely empty except for the large bed and the monitor.

A doctor entered the room, dressed in a blue scrub. He had blonde spikey hair that had been gelled up and the bluest eyes I had seen in my life. I recongined him as one of the doctors who had injected me. He grimaced as he read a file in his hand.

"Afternoon Miss...Smithson."

I looked at him venomously and turned my head away. Not only did not get my name wrong, I had many questions to ask, but I didn't want it to look like I wanted anything from him.

"Miss smithson will you please co-operate.."

"My name is not Miss Smithson." I shot back.

He looked at me sympathetically and shook his head. He then turned around and left the room.

Soon after, he returned with an older looking doctor with grey hairs. He wore specticals and a dark blue scrub with a white doctors coat. He looked up from the file that he had snatched from the blond doctor afew moments earlier and said;

"Afternoon, My name is Dr Channing. Maam you seem to be experiencing some very major memory loss and loss of identity. You are Miss Clara Smithson, 17 years of age, you live in London and an orphan since birth".

My head spun rapidly as I took in the information that has been said to me.

"No, No, NO. I am Helen Barker. Daughter to Pertunia and Tom Barker, I go to Dane High school, My maids name is Samira, my boyfriend name is Danny , I' m head cheerleader, my friends names are se..."

Dr Channing silenced me with a finger to my lip. He gave me a taunting look and said;

"Child, don't worry everything will soon be fine.."

Then suddenly I was held back again and blond doctor was coming towards me with an apologetic look on his face and another injection in his hand. I decided this time I wasn't going to let it happen, I kicked and screamed with all my might. I was starting to contemplate biting Dr Channing, when a deep authortive voice echoed around the room.

"Leave her alone ,you bunch of imbeciles".

I sat up to see a man in a black suit and two police men standing behind him.

The two doctors jumped back from me. And I could have sworn blondie did a little courtesy . 


"Wilson and Channing, leave and don't come back until i tell you to.."  

The guy in the suit addressed the doctors in such an informal manner. No matter how funny the looks on their faces were, I dared not laugh. Suit guy's looks could kill. 

"Yes Mr Dean, Whatever you want Mr Dean" they fretted as they backed out the door as fast as they possibly could. 

The door slam shut behind them and Mr Dean and his guards stood staring at me. 

Moments later Mr Dean broke the silence ; 

"Miss Smithson, you will need to inform us of the events that occured just before the accident." 

I nodded obedienctly and began telling the police man what happened from the morning til the time of the accident . They nodded and smiled in appropriate places and as I reached the part where I met my parents, I suddenly realized that I hadn't seen them. That they hadn't replied when I shouted their names before I blacked out, That they might be dead. 

I stopped mid sentence and cleared my throat. I looked up, straight into one of the policemens faces and asked, 

"Sir, where are my parents?" 

He looked at me anxiously and looked at Mr Dean for confirmation as to if he was allowed to tell me. Mr Dean nodded and grimaced as he looked to the floor. The police man began; 

"Maam your parents died when you were born in a car accident, you didn't have the accident in a limo or in a carpark, maam you were in an accident in London airport. Your taxi crashed into another one as tried to make your way to your hotel." 

Only then did I realize their accents. Their english accents. That only meant one thing, I was in London. My parents were apparently dead and I was now an orphan. I shook my head violently so as to erase the life changing information that had been relayed to me. I didn't know what to do I felt helpless and alone. I could feel all eyes on me and I just wanted to dig a hole and jump in. 

We could give you a file that has all the necessary information about your life to help you recall your identity and we could also get some specialists to help , but that is as much as I can do for now." 

He placed a large brown file on my bed and instructed the policemen to not leave my room under any circumstances. I told Mr Dean i didn't want them here so he told both to stand outside my door and check on me regularly. They introduced themselves as Agents Cho and Silverton before leaving the room. The room was empty again and my life was now in shambles. Is my name actually Clara, Clara Smithson, Where are the parents I've know all my life and Maybe Mr Dean is part of the bad people my parents were talking about.  

Overwhelmed by all the commotion, I curled up into a ball and cried and cried and cried. I cried for Samira, I cried for my parents and lastly I cried out of fear of the events that may occur tomorrow.

Soon enough I had no more tears left, I sat up with as much conviction as a snail in the sun and I grabbed the brown file that Mr Dean had left on my bed. I took a deep breath in and I opened it sceptically and read the first page.

"Name: Miss Clara Smithson.."  

I was soon getting bored of the hereditary information when I looked at the legal guardians box. 

Inside was written King William and Queen Catherine.

I sat on the bed dum found by the words and came to the unwanted conclusion that I was royalty. I continued reading realized that the king and queen were my uncle and aunty. I had two cousins ,Fredrick aged 18 and Estelle aged 19. I lived in a mansion in the countryside and I loved to sing and dance.  

This felt more like I was stealing somebody elses identity rather than fitting into my assumed ID.  

I read on further to find out that, the day of the accident was my first time in London as my foster mother had died and I was sent to come and live with the king. I scanned through the document to find information on my step mother, and was deeply depressed by the information that was on the second to last page. My foster mother's name was Samira Ali and she had been murdered 4 weeks ago. My head spun violently. In a space of 5 hours i had lost everything that was important to me and gained nothing. Samira had been supposedly shot dead by the people who had planned the accident at London city airport. I slammed the file down on to the marble floor. I was confused and furious. Samira wasn't my guardian she was my maid and best friend, how could she be dead?

Mr Dean walked into the room accompanied by the specialists he had promised to bring. After an afternoon of memory excerises, my dinner was brought in. It was cold chicken salad and a desert of jello and an orange juice. My stomach growled as I stuffed the food spoon by spoon into mouth. Although the food wasnt great, I was contented.  

By the time I had finished my food I had thought up a plan. 

I will go and stay with my unvle and aunty, find a part time job and save up my money. When I have enough I will find Samira and my parents and find out why the doctors and police think my name is Clara Smithson. I was going to be hard but I am ready.

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