Sunshine…Part Four.

Sonya…

Sonya Thompson.

They said that was my name and I guess I believe them. I know it sounds strange and paranoid but the things I’ve heard while I was waking up…Nano-remodelling, and bad companies and being asleep…well in a coma for so long.

Nightmares of fire, of burning aren’t helping me and the fact that they said that someone had set me on fire?

Well there’s a good reason for the nightmares.

But the memory loss is a killer too. I’ve got it really bad, they’re telling me that I’m lucky that I’m not a vegetable like some of the others.

But my physiotherapy is hard, not only am I so weak that it’s scary everything feels strange and alien. I mean even the way the breeze feels on my skin doesn’t feel familiar to me.

They’re paying for us and that’s good I guess but I’m really leery of strangers bearing gifts.

I think the most disturbing thing over the last few months besides re-learning everything is that they let us have access to computers and the net and I looked myself up.

No wonder I’m getting looks from people as I’m getting better, I know I’m very, very good looking I’m filled back out with the diets that they’ve had us on and I’m. five nine, leggy, slender with a nice neck and long graceful arms and I’m very curvy and on my way to maybe my old bust size of 38DD.

But I was an actress, or I was an actress mostly as a kid and a teenager and from the sites and the old news clippings I was really messed up. I was in this huge fire in this immigrant housing complex as a kid and orphaned because of it. They say my family were drug dealers and into the whole gangland thing too. It must have really screwed me up because there’s this long list of shitty semi-famous relationships and drug charges, drinking and riving and then if all of that wasn’t bad enough I went from mainstream actress because of the bullshit I was in all the time I guess to being a porn star.

I’ve watched myself, both in acting and in the porn stuff and…

While I don’t remember being so fucked up I feel it. I feel like there’s something wrong inside of me just waiting to break or something like I’m glass inside or something.

I’m clean so that’s good after being such an addict before but while I’m not craving whatever I was into I feel that telltale fragility that seems to be part of the make up of an addict.

And the porn…lets just say that I did everything and while my brain doesn’t remember my body seems too and some of the movies that I’ve made…they still turn me on.

And I don’t remember any of it.

What a messed up way to discover yourself.

And I think it’s more than a little awkward that some of the staff here has obviously looked me up. Or had been fans since nothing ever dies on the net.

Thankfully I don’t remember Harrison.

Harrison Wheeler the man I had been seeing who was this drug dealer to the stars and into the whole porn star industry…my ex. The guy that had apparently beat me a lot and had gone too far one night and doused me in lighter fluid and lit me on fire.

Karma’s a motherfucker though. While I was under apparent he died of some bad news venereal disease called Kemper, some kind of spore infection that swells and chokes off the sex organs.

They had to castrate him before he died of it.

Sadly at the time there were no cures they could only amputate before it spread and started to clog the lungs or the heart. It got to his lungs and he died suffocating.

Poetic justice if you ask me but it doesn’t kill the nightmares.

I can remember in my dreams burning…actually seeing my hand on fire…pop…pop…sizzle and the sound of fire and the feeling of the smoke in my lungs.

It’s really not fun being in this shape and bolting upright in bed in the middle of the night screaming. At least now in more or less private quarters and of the machines and monitors I’m not having a bunch or nurses running in and everything.

I end up tying off the bag in the trashcan beside my bed and get up and shakily make my way to the bathroom. I’m getting more and more used to seeing myself in the mirror now it’s not so alien seeming to me and the clear and perfect skin doesn’t contrast as bad with the nightmares and the expectation of burn scars.

I brush my teeth and use the mouthwash and get undressed the rest of the way shedding my sleep bra and panties and step into the shower. Taking a shower is one of life’s little pleasures really for me. And no not in that kinky shower head kind of way but actually soaping my breasts is very soothing and sort of erotic for me. Only sort of well because their breasts and they like the attention but more soothing really and I love the feeling of the shower on my back and the almost massage like feeling it has when my scalp is under the spray.

So thinking about cutting my hair though. Long hair is a pain in the ass really and there are times that I’m so sick of it but there’s others when it’s really nice and its part of why the men stare at me.

I know, I know I’m good looking even if that doesn’t register experience wise or maybe it’s some subconscious porn thing. My shrink thinks so or it’s just damage that’s why my memory is shot on the most basic stuff.

I wash it and then I towel it and while it’s still damp I use the blow dryer and brushes and combs and get it looking halfway descent ay least while I let my body air dry.

I get dressed and struggle my way into a sports bra. Yes I’m not used to them but I really need one if I’m going to go and work out. I get dressed in a decent top and a pair of yoga pants and I head out with a bottle of water to the facilities open gym.

I’m still kind of amazed at just how thin some of the clothes that I’ve been given are. I swear I feel pretty naked sometimes. It’s so strange having so much of your mind wiped out. It’s actually scary as hell really with other people and in my case being sort of semi famous being able to see stuff about me but not me anymore of the net.

I go slowly at first with my physio routine and some slow stretches to warm up and the a walk to start with on the treadmill then a light jog for awhile and it really pushes it me maybe a bit much too and after about ten minutes of that I’m done in.

I really hate feeling like this, I mean when you really lightly jog for just a little while and you’re done in for at least five minutes trying to catch your breath and wiping away sweat.

I know, I’m lucky I’m not a vegetable. There’s people here still on machines and will never be off of them. I’m at least able to get around now. Next is the elliptical machine that really helps with the whole muscle groups for climbing stairs and stuff. That’s another thing that’s still hard going for me. And to finish things and myself off I do a little weight training before I drag myself to the snack area and sit down after getting an almond-soy salad and a mixed juice shake thing that’s good for me and heavily masked from the icky stuff by lots of kiwi.

I sit down at a table not too far from one of the other girls Mandy Pine and sip at stuff. Mandy smiles a bit and is looking as worn out as I am.

“Rough one?”

She nods eating something that resembles meat I think. I’m a vegetarian or so my bio has said and I’m trying to stick to it. Besides with the supplements and other stuff like in my smoothie I’m not missing out.

Aside from the fact I can smell that she’s eating something that had the distinct smell of bacon.

That’s really just.

“Want some?” She offers and I shake my head.

“No thanks I’m really trying to stick to what I used to do, it might jog something loose. Besides I’m getting lots of protein as it is.”

She nods. “Yeah it’s not the protein hon it’s all the other stuff. I’ve got a whole new lease on life and I was like you the last time and denied myself stuff thinking it’d make me stay young or pretty or thin and it never really do much other than make me miserable. Now the memory thing…that’s like the best reason to keep it up I’ve ever heard. I hope it works.”

“Me too because that smells really good.”

She laughs and a few others join us. Some are patients and some are staff we’re slowly all sort of socially blending together like this. I’m eating when I see this guy. Short cut blonde hair about early twenties and wearing a bracelet like the rest of us wear. I usually don’t pay attention to people, well guys and, well you know in the attracted way. I’ve got too much going on for that.

But he’s drawing my eye for sure.

Tall at six one or six two. He’s thin from the remodel/remake and yet he’s filling out really, really nicely he must be working hard at it and he sits down and he looks just so…lost in his head? I know we’re all sort of like that but he really has the look bad.

“Hey Mandy? Who’s the hunk?”

She looks at him then she looks him over and I’m not sure if I’m having the paws off I saw him first reaction or not? There’s just something that draws me to him and something so familiar about him. She shrugs. “I dunno but I’d like to know.”

One of the nurses looks at me.

“That’s Joel; he’s an absolute bonafide hero.”
“Hero?” I look at her then him and then her. “Okay I’m intrigued, how so?”

“He’s an ex-firefighter and he’s got a lot of awards for saving peoples lives and stuff.”

I look at him again. Okay it’s in my head right? Just knowing that drawing me in more?

She’s staring at me looking at him. “What?”

“You two actually have a connection.”

“What? Is he one of my ex’s?” I don’t remember any firemen in my bio.

“No, it’s in your file. He was nearly burned to death saving you when you were like just a kid. Its how he ended up in here too he was one of the first cryo-victims.”

Oh…

I remember reading about that…

And something clicks in my brain. Just this snippet of…

~You are my sunshine…My only sunshine…~

Oh…

There’s tears suddenly running down my face.

I did this to him?

*** Joel……………………….

Well that was a really awkward and shitty morning. My family showed up the whole bunch that was still in the region and there were my kids and grand kids and even a couple of great grand kids.

It was more than I thought might show and it was strained to say the very least. My grand kids and great grand kids were okay with then not really knowing me too much since the whole thing had happened and the in the case of my great grand children I was just a story and stuff.

But my kids it was hard because they’re old, they’re old and they’re grey and collecting social security for heavens sake. And yet there was nothing there. It was like meeting a bunch of strangers that were telling me things about me that just didn’t click anywhere in my head and I could tell that they were getting upset and disappointed but I just can’t help it. It’s all gone and I can’t remember what isn’t there.

But human nature being human nature they kept seeming like they thought the more that they talked about stuff that those memories would just magically materialize in my head and we’d just pick right off where things had left off.

And when they didn’t it turned into blame.

Blaming me for going into a place I had no business going into. That I was retired and that I was breaking the laws. That I broke my family because of that and the fact that all my benefits and other things that should have gone to my wife and then didn’t because of what I did.

Nothing like catching hell for stuff that you can’t remember. I’m literally not that guy any more and that pissed them off or hurt them more and it just got to the point were they just up and left.

Some of the in-laws and the great grand kids and grand kids left me their contact information and stuff but not all of them and it was just.

It was just really awkward and shitty really.

And the whole thing had sat heavy in my head and just kind of drained any fight or energy out of me during me rehab sessions. Stuff like having that happen to you just made every thing I was trying to do or they were trying to do just seem ten times as hard.

And it didn’t get me any sympathy either from the others since I was one of the only people who came out of this with any family to speak of so there was really no one that I could talk to about how much this hurt and stuff without getting on someone’s nerves.

Lonely hurtful shit really.

And I guess it was a good thing that they left because I was sort of getting sick of catching hell for something for as far as I’m concerned a stranger ended up doing.

Fucking sigh.

Sometimes life just seems to want to kick you over and over again just to see how much you can take before you end up screaming from the inside out and curling into the fetal position.

I’m done for the day except the massage torture and some pool time but first some lunch and a break. I get a salad because I usually like something crunchy and green. I go with the Greek one with the spinach but also I like it seems feta and olives too and I get two big cheese burgers with bacon and lots of cooked down onions on them and a super smoothie thing and a thing of yogurt for dessert and I’m wolfing down my first burger in that eye rolling into the back of my skull sooo good craving way. My body is still starving I swear and I’m chewing away when I’m getting checked out by a bunch of the girls. Some are patients and some are nurses and I try a smile with them and finger wave with burger in hand to them. Women still make me nervous, it’s gone back to the I have no idea what I’m doing with them thing all over again.

Well I was married, widower now I guess and even if I did remember I’d still likely be so out of practice with interacting with them on this level I’d flop it anyway.

I look down and take another bite feeling a bit guilty now too.

I mean I should feel guilty since all the stuff with my wife and all of the things that I lost right? Am I doing her a disservice?

But I don’t remember her.

I take another short look up and there’s this stunning blonde woman/girl with really model like looks and really nice breasts…hey they stand out and I can’t help but to notice them especially on her cryo-thinned frame.

But then I notice she’s sort of gone pale and spaced out yet staring at me and she’s crying?

Shit…what did I do now?