Lost Memories

Being in a mental hospital could never be easy.

That's what nineteen-year-old Amelia realises when she meets Bradley Hunter. A guy who manages to make her feel like she's worth something, in the midst of battling her own demons and walking the road to recovery. They develop an intense, strong emotional connection that is unlike anything the both of them have ever experienced.

But Amelia feels as if Bradley is oddly familiar, the sense of safety and comfort she feels with him is something she has never witnessed.
Bradley struggles with the memories that come back to haunt him, but will they be the reason for Bradley to lose Amelia forever, or to heal her wounds?


4. Chapter Four.



I dug my nails into the purple comforter beneath me, my eyes fixated on the floor. My breathing was heavy, almost as if a ton of bricks was laying on my chest. 


My head turned up to face Dr. Johns, who was nearing me carefully as if I was a wild animal who she needed to protect herself from.

''You haven't showed up a lot today, are you alright?''she inquired, sitting next to me. I sighed and curled my knees against my chest.

''Yeah, just like to be alone sometimes,''I said with a small smile, hoping she wouldn't see through my act.

Dr. Johns was silent for a moment, before standing up again.

''You should come join the others, they seem to be having a good time,''she smiled before walking out. I took a deep breath, made sure I didn't look like complete death, and decided to follow Dr. Johns's suggestion.

As soon as I walked to the entrance, Bradley was just exiting and his eyes locked on me. I stood there, frozen into his stare, until he finally broke the deafening silence.

''Did I do something wrong?''he asked, turning around to look at me.

''No, and I'm sorry for leaving like that,''I said, my eyes on his hands and the memory of them on my skin flooding my mind.

''Talk to me, Amelia,''he took my hand into his, and I felt how much bigger his was than mine, but the contact made my skin tingle.

I looked into his eyes, the hurt and confusion in them making my chest hurt even more.

''There's a lot, very, very wrong with me,''I said as low as a whisper, feeling him squeezing my hand even tighter. It didn't even hurt, in some odd way it gave me comfort instead.

''There's a lot wrong with everyone here, otherwise they wouldn't have ended up here,''he spoke, taking a step closer to me. Usually, I would back away at any close human contact, but my feet stayed steadily in place.

''I was afraid. I've not felt something as ..nice as that in a while,''I said honestly, biting back tears from all the memories written on my neck.

All of the bruises.

All of the pain.

He looked down at me with a smile, holding both of my hands in his. 

''Would you hang out with me tonight?''he asked, a grin lining his lips. 

The offer seemed so simple but somehow it made something ignite in my stomach, a feeling of happiness and excitement.

''I'd love to,''I said with a smile, and he lead me inside his room. Only now did I realise and see that the walls had at least six holes in them, and that shreds of paper lined the left corner of the room. I also noticed a frame with a picture of a small boy holding a woman's hand, both smiling into the camera.

I figured it was him and his mom. I took the same spot on his bed as I had a few days ago, and he sat beside me.

''Is Dr. Montgomery nice?''I asked, and when he let out a chuckle I felt shivers run down my spine.

''As nice as a therapist can be, I guess.''

I smiled in understanding, because I knew exactly what he meant.

''Is that you and your mom?''I inquired, looking over at the picture. His eyes darted that way too, but he seemed to stiffen up at the sight.

''Yeah.''he ran his fingers through his hair, and I itched to do the same. I clutched my hands underneath my legs, to keep them in place.

''How old were you here?''

I took the frame into my hands, looking more closely at cute little Bradley. As my eyes fixated on his mother, it was almost like I had seen her somewhere before. I brushed it off and thought it was probably just someone I'd ran into on the street.

''5,''he said shortly, and when I looked at him, I saw that a sense of darkness had come over him at the talk of this picture. If it bothered him that much, why did he have it here?

''Do you and your mom get along?''I chose my words carefully, not wanting to make him feel like he needs to tell me anything, although I was dying to get to know him and what had brought him here.

''We used to, quite well actually. But then I got into the wrong gang and she's kept her distance from me ever since,''he spoke, his eyes trained on the book shelf next to his bed. I knew this subject probably hurt for him, so I took his hand into mine and brushed my fingers across his palm. I wanted to be there for him, to support him.

''I'm sorry,''I said sincerely. His eyes remained on mine as his hand travelled to the small of my back, which made my whole body feel things I'd never felt before. My heart rate increased when he stroked my skin, the act seemingly tiny but had such a large meaning to me. 

''It's okay, it's no one's fault but my own.''

I could see the sadness in his eyes and his being, so much that it made me feel a need to help him, to make him better. 

''What about you? And your mom?''he asked, his hand still on my back and still causing butterflies in my stomach.

I fixated my eyes on the floor and began speaking. ''I was really close with her until she got with my stepfather and turned into someone entirely different.''

I forced myself to keep the tears in and not let myself break down in front of him. I shoved all of the painful memories away in my mental mom box, where I'd stored each and every bright, happy, and what most of them were, sad memory I had with my mom. It was easier that way and I didn't have to think about it.

I felt Bradley lightly brush his fingers in a pattern on my back. ''It's fucked up, isn't it?''

''What is?''I inquired, turning to face him. 

''All of the reasons that have brought us here.''his eyes looked into mine like he could see every inch of me, like I was basically naked in front of him at that moment.

I took a deep breath. ''Definitely.''

''Thank you for telling me,''he spoke quietly, and when a small smile tugged his lips, I was in awe of his beauty. His sharp jawline, his eyes and how they reminded me of the bluest ocean. His hair that was perfectly messy and the firm muscles that were noticeable underneath his shirt. 

He placed his hand on my cheek, and brushed a strand of hair away from my face, tucking it behind my ear. The feel of his fingers against my skin made goosebumps appear all over my body, and at least 100 more butterflies fly around in my stomach. 

His eyes fixated on my lips, and all I could think about was how badly I wanted him to kiss me. For me to feel his lips on mine, I was starting to imagine how it would feel and what it would make me feel. 

Just as I thought he was actually going to do it, he pulled away and stood up, ruffling his hands through his hair again. Disappointment flooded me and I stood up just as quick, swallowing the lump in my throat. 

''Um, I'm gonna go,''I said, needing to get out of there.

''Amelia, wait-''he called, but I closed the door and quickly made my way to my own, falling to the floor and holding my knees against my chest.

Images of my stepfather abusing me consumed my mind, and I couldn't stop shaking or crying for hours.


I hope that you enjoyed, let me know what you think of the story so far! xoxo

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