We'll always have Paris

I sprinted out of the theater. I had to find my mom before she left town for good. I couldn’t remember where she lived. I couldn’t remember her phone number. If I didn’t stop her before she left, I could never make up for the time lost between us. I headed towards the end of the street and went straight for the hospital. Maybe she hadn’t left, or maybe the doctor could help me find her. If the doctor got past the fact that I ran away... It wouldn’t matter. Nothing would get in my way. I rounded the corner and nearly ran into another girl. Something was bothering her, as I nearly knocked her over and she just passed by without so much as a glance. I watched as she headed towards the apartments deep in thought. I came to realizing my purpose and turned. Again, I nearly ran into another person. He looked every bit determined and enraged. Yet another passing without acknowledgement. I can’t imagine how I ever got along in such a place...

Without many other distractions, I finally made it to the hospital.
“Doctor, quick is that woma... my mom still here?”
“Oh there you are! You know, it’s not good for a patient to go running off mid-treatment.”
“Okay, whatever, I know. Please, my mom?”
“She left after you ran away.”
“Do you know where she was heading?”
“I’m sorry, I didn’t catch her life story.”
“Well look, I’m sorry I ran away, but I’m a little bit confused right now. I can’t remember most things, but I do know I need to find her.”
“...I’m sorry I really don’t know.”

The tears just wouldn’t stop coming. I failed my father, and now my mom would forever think I hated her. I didn’t even know how bad I had treated her. All my plans of using this amnesia and starting anew completely went down the drain. Now I was stuck in this stupid town with no recollection of where a live for a start. I headed back for the theater, the only home I apparently had left. Sirens blazed by as I went back across the street. People were crowding around the apartment building as police ran inside. Here I was feeling sorry for myself, when someone in that very building was seemingly having a much worse day than I. I couldn’t go on like this. I had to get over it. I missed my chance, but I could learn for the future. Forgive and forget. I had to from now on.

I opened the doors to the theater and realized I heard a tv on in one of the nearby rooms. I had forgotten to lock the doors... I creeped up to the room and slowly opened the door. The person in front of the tv was facing away. I took another step when the person jumped up and turned around.
“Heather!! I scared the heck out of me! I was so worried about you. I had no idea where you were, so I came here. I thought since your father loved movies so much, maybe you were here.. but then I heard about a murder! There was a murder, and you were out there all alone with no memory of anything. What if it had been you? What was I to do! If you had been killed or anyth..”
“Mom.. It’s okay. I remember enough now. I’m sorry. I’m sorry for how I treated you before. Although I can’t remember it, I know it can’t have been good. I understand everything now. I don’t want us to be separated anymore.”
Tears came into her eyes.
“I... I never thought I would hear you say that... I’ve missed you so much... I’m sorry I left...”
Tears came into my eyes.
“It’s all my fault not yours. Can you forgive me?”
“No.”
“Oh... well...”
“No, there’s nothing for me to forgive. We both messed up and that’s that. It’s in the past. I love you. I always have.”
“I love you too mom.”
“Now what do you say we get out of this crazy town of murderers and depressed people as soon as possible?”
“I’d be up for that. This town is full of people feeling sorry for themselves. I don’t want to do that anymore. How can anyone feel sorry for themselves, when there’s a family out there dealing with a death? That’s much worse than anything I can be dealing with. I don’t know why I ever came here.”
“Let’s go sweetheart. Here’s the start of a new life for us both, no, here’s the start of a new adventure. Here’s looking at you kid.”

Forgive me for ever having mistrusted you, darling. But you have been a little distant these past 7 years

My mind came back to the present just as the credits rolled up the screen. Now it made sense. The spontaneous beach trip. The list of his favorite movies. That sad, sad smile... My father knew he was going to die, he knew he was sick. It was only 7 months later. Why hadn’t he told me? Was he worried about the burden it would lay on me? I couldn’t even remember what happened two weeks ago anymore, why these memories, why now?
I searched for the door to the projector room, and walked up the 7 steps to turn off the movie. My hands seemed to have the muscle memory of what to do to take off the reel. I opened up the reel case sitting on the nearby table. With 7 turns the reel was rolled up and I began packing it away. Just as I was putting the lid back on, I noticed something taped to the inside. I carefully ripped it off, and flipped it over. My name was written on the front. I unfolded it to reveal a letter.

My dear Heather,
I don’t know when, or if even, you will find this letter, but I do know that if you do, I will already be gone. I apologize for not telling you of my sickness earlier, but I didn’t have the courage. I meant to tell you on our final trip together, but alas you wore such a cute smile the whole time, I just couldn’t bare to tell you. I understand if you feel any anger towards me, but you must not feel any anger for your mother. She was forced to leave. We discussed it, and we both felt it was the best decision. I single letter can not describe the situation, so I urge you to talk to her. I know you have probably not spoken to her in a very long time, as you were known to be hard headed, but she will gladly explain to you the details. Just listen.
Remember I love you very much, and as long as you keep your imagination with movies, I will always be by your side.
Love,
Dad

I stood there, staring at the paper, for what felt like eternity, but in reality only 7 minutes passed. The paper was the last bit of my dad. His swooping handwriting, with i’s that looked more like 7’s. His last words, and he wanted me to forgive my mother. I had very few memories at this point, so I had no reason to only guess at my relationship with my own mother. Perhaps it was time to forgive and forget. Perhaps it was time for a happy ending.

We're From Out of Town

Looking at the town while I tried to find the theater from the man’s directions I realized something. I must have been insane to ever want to live in such a place. Everyone I passed either seemed a little crazed, or had a very suspicious look on their faces. I suppose people were friendly enough, but everyone I talked to obviously had something else on their mind. I certainly seemed like the town wasn’t all 100% present (mentally of course). As I looked up at the apartment building that seemed to be the focal point of the town, for the life of me I could not figure out what dragged me into the town. I started backing away when I turned around and ran right into someone, knocking them onto the pavement.
“I’m so sorry about that! I was so lost in thought,” I said to the woman as I helped her up.
“It’s no problem, really.” She looked a little bedraggled, but I don’t think it was from the fall.
“Hey haven’t I seen you somewhere... which is saying something since I can’t seem to remember a thing.”
“Oh, yeah, I think I saw you running out of the hospital this morning. You almost ran into me then too.”
“Oh.. yeah, sorry. Funny running into you again ...?”
“Spring.”
“Heather.. um.. well, I guess I’ll see you around..” I turned and walked away as quickly as possible. She obviously didn’t want anymore to do with me.
I suppose I was just as lost as everyone else in the town. Could it be that’s the reason for me fitting in and living in the town? Or did the town just do that to people?

After who-knows-how-long, I finally found the theater. The only reason I could tell it was a theater rather than an abandoned sawmill was from the kiosk tacked on the side. I walked up to the door and attempted to open it. Locked tight. There had to be answers in here. From the little I could remember, there just had to be, but I had no idea how to get in. I put my hands in the pockets of my jeans in contemplation of my next steps. There in my right pocket, was a small metal key. “There’s no way...” I put the key into the slot on the door and turned. -click- I pulled open the old rotting doors and walked in.

In the darkness my feet carried me to a huge switch on the wall. I pulled it and the whole theater came to life. The screen blinked on and a voice said, “I think you're all fucked in the head. We're ten hours from the fucking fun park and you want to bail out. Well I'll tell you something. This is no longer a vacation.” I sat down to watch the scene, just as the darkness fell in again.
        ---
His laughter was loud and bouncy. The kind of laughter that could make you laugh in itself.
“Nothing better than a good movie about a vacation, to start off a vacation!” my father said.
The hotel room was small and simple, but it was possible to hear the waves crashing on the beach. I smiled back at him. I couldn’t feel happier. We were at the beach together, and my dad had brought all of his favorite movies for a week long marathon between beach visits. Once the movie ended I asked, “Daddy, why do you like movies so much?”
“Because.. they can offer an escape or just add to the world of imagination. When I was little and whenever I had a bad day, my dad would sit me down and put in a movie I’d never seen before. I haven’t really had the opportunity to show you any movies since I’ve been working so much, that’s why I thought this vacation was a good chance.”
“Oh, that makes sense. I want to watch all the movies in the world!”
That booming laughter came again.
“Perhaps you could, but promise me this, when you’re older and you’ll be living off on your own, you’ll keep watching movies. That way I’ll always be with you.”
“I promise, cross my heart and hope to die! But you’ll always be with me anyway! I won’t have to pretend!”
All that came in response was a smile, but it wasn’t really happy. It was kind of sad...

Sixth Sense

Fully recovered from the dumpster incident, I walked back out into the street. The theater. That's what my mind kept telling me. Then I realized I had no idea where the city's theater was located. I walked across the street and down the next, there seemed to be a lot of stores, so maybe I could find someone to direct me. I walked down the street and came to a stop by a bowling alley. It definitely wasn't anything special, seemed downright sad in truth, yet it seemed to be well populated. Someone had to be nice enough to show me the theater. There was even someone standing right outside in front of the alleyway. But then I recognized him. From the flashback. The man standing there, I saw in my memory in a coffin. How could my dad be standing right here, when from what I knew he was dead.
I walked closer to him, and he turned and went further into the alley way.
"Wait, dad! Where are you going?"
I ran around the corner. He stopped and turned. I stopped dead. His eyes were blank, just solid white. I don't know how long I stood staring at... my father... when I heard a grunt from the garbage. I looked down and there was a man passed out among the plastic bags. I rushed over to his side and checked his pulse and breathing (not sure how I knew what to do, but I did). He seemed okay besides the fact he was unconscious.
"What a day for people passing out beside dumpsters eh?"
I took his arms and dragged him out of the alley. At the mouth of the alley, I remembered my father. I glanced back and he was gone without a trace. Whatever just happened didn't make much sense, but I had to help this man at my feet. I ran inside the bowling alley and borrowed their phone to call 911. After my last experience at the hospital I decided it would be best for me to disappear so I told the alley's manager to stay with the man. I asked him where I could find the theater and headed back out across the street, just as the ambulance drove up.

I have this condition.

And you, my father, there on the sad height,
Curse, bless, me now with your fierce tears, I pray.
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

My black dress was itchy. I think it was one of my older cousins or something. I hated hand-me-downs, they never fit like they were supposed to. I looked up at all the adults around me. A few had tears, but most just looked solemn with their fancy black dresses and suits. I don't know why, but the tears just wouldn't come. It couldn't be really happening. The hero always comes back. Any second now he would just pop out from behind a grave stone, ready to save my day once again. He would take my hand and walk me to the movie theater again like we did every week. He'd pick something hollywood style, where every one lives happily ever after to pick up our spirits.

Yet here I was, watching the coffin into the ground. The tears started flowing. The hero wasn't coming back. My grandmother grabbed my hand and squeezed it. It was done. Everyone started going back to the reception. I couldn't, wouldn't leave. My grandmother had to pick me up and carry me inside.

I didn't want to talk to anyone so I hid in the corner away from the noise. They were playing soundtracks to his favorite movies and that killed me. It made it worse. Then I saw her. Sadness turned to anger in a second. She saw me and started walking over as I continued to glare.

"Honey, don't give me that stare. I miss him too. I know its hard for you to understand, but you have to listen to me," that woman said.
"No, you left. Daddy told me to forget about it and forgive you, but he was the good guy. You are the bad guy. And now he's gone and the bad guy won." I said.
"You make it sound like I wanted him to die. This isn't one of your stupid movies."
"Movies aren't stupid. Daddy liked movies. I'm not stupid, you are."
"How dare you call your own mother stupid! That is complete disrespect. If today wasn't what it was, you'd be going into time out."
"You aren't my mom! I hate you! You can't make me do anything. All I want is daddy."
"Daddy isn't coming back, you know that. If you would just listen, we can leave and I'll explain everything to you. Why I left too. I didn't want to leave."
"I'm not listening to you! I'm not leaving with you! Leave me alone. Forever! I'm going with granny."

I ran off without another word. She yelled something as I left; it sounded something like, I loathe you or I love you. I didn't know what loathe meant and there was no way she would say love. I jumped in my grandmothers arms for comfort.
  --------------------
I slowly opened my eyes. The smell hit me first; it was awful. I looked up and there was the dumpster. In the distance I saw someone running away and I remembered the mugging. Some help I was, I thought. Although I must have smelled awful, luckily I landed in the pile of garbage to catch my fall. I ached my way to standing and started walking, unsure of where to go.

As I walked away I realized the dream I was having was actually a memory. My father was dead, and the woman in the hospital was my mom, but she left.. or something. For some reason I didn't like her, so I couldn't go back to her. Yet in the memory she said she loved me... Why did she leave?

I decided to put those thoughts away for now and figure out where exactly I could shower and sleep. The memory told me to start in the movie theater.

No plan. No backup. No choice. Expect the Incredible.

My mom? I think I would recognize my own mother, and I had no recollection of this women sitting in front of my hospital bed. Yet then again, now that I thought about it, I couldn't put a face to what my mom would look like... I didn't know what kind of plot these people were planning, but my throbbing head wasn't making it any easier to think out a plan. I tried sitting up only to realize I was strapped down.

"We had to strap you down in case you woke up with any memory problems. We don't want our patients running out of the hospital in a panic. We recently had another patient run out of the hospital yelling something about the sins of the hospital... we can't have that happen again."

Yeah right. Who straps a patient down to the bed? Last time I was strapped to a hospital bed it was with handcuffs, and that was because I was wrongly accused of blowing up the Kremlin. These people obviously didn't know who they were dealing with. I ripped open the straps and jumped out of the bed.

"Honey, what are you doing?!" said the woman, aka 'mom.'
"Now Heather, please calm down. Just lay back in bed and everything will be okay.." said the 'doctor.'
"My name is Ethan Hunt... wait... isn't Ethan a guy.."

A throbbing pain shot through my head and my vision went to black.

"Are you okay?" said the doctor, "You just collapsed all of a sudden, after you had a few... mismemories."
"Yeah, I'll be fine as soon as you let me go," I said.
"We can let you go, but you have to remain under the care of your mother, in case another incident where you black out occurs."
"Right. No."

I don't know why, but something told me whatever I did, I shouldn't go home with this woman, mom or no mom. This time I just sprinted right out, no commentary needed.

 I ran as fast as I could down the street, without stopping. I stopped by a place called "Isabella's Cafe," (the decor told me it was a strip club) as I was certain no one was following me. What the hell was going on? How come I couldn't remember most of my past? That's when I noticed a group of people in the back alleyway behind the strip club. It seemed a little odd when I saw someone sneak out and hit another  guys head. My gut feeling told me that my super strength would stop the evil-doer in no time. It was unfortunate that I didn't have my sleek black mask and my red, yellow, and black super suit.

I made it to the dumpster when all went black again.

You'll Shoot Your Eye Out

Boy was it starting to get cold. I'd been debating sleeping in the theater as the temperature dropped below freezing, but it's just so not classy to sleep in the workplace. Since sleeping in a tent is definitely very classy. Alas, I couldn't let the weather get the best of me, it's supposed to be the jolliest time of the year! People always like a good holiday movie to escape the rush of the holidays, or at least that's what I'm hoping for. I slowly crawled out of the warmth of my sleeping bag and pulled on the many layers of my winter clothes. Thank god for the dense tree cover or the tent would have collapsed from the weight of the snow. I maneuvered out of the clearing and rode off out of the park.

I've never had such a hard time navigating the streets. "I've got a bad feeling about this," I thought as I approached the first busy road, covered in a nice sheet of ice. People had still decided to 'brave' the streets and drive. Riding a bike is clearly the better option in freezing weather, right?

After finally getting my waffle and coffee for breakfast, I approached the theater in as little holiday cheer as was humanly possible. Some person at the Casa d' Waffles thought it would be funny to replay the chipmunk version of every Christmas song known to man over and over again. Whoever thought it was a good idea to invent talking chipmunks was seriously disturbed. Grumbling while listening to "Baby It's Cold Outside" in high pitched voices in my head, I put on the first Christmas movie of the season. Christmas Story was always funny and would hopefully brighten my mood. I realized I started the first movie later than I usually do, but I figured it wouldn't make much of a difference.

The phone in the office started to ring right at the sound of, "Oh fudge," in the movie. Who could possibly be calling me? And in the morning no less? "Hello?" I said.
"...Heather is that you?"
"Who is this?"
"I just wanted to wish you a Merry Christmas, I know its a little early, but I don't know if I'll get the chance later."
"...Mom? Is that you?"
"I know it has been awhile but.."
"No, why would you think to call?! Oh wait, it's probably because you didn't think. What makes you think I want to talk to you after what happened?!"
"I want to say sorry."
"It's too late for that, goodbye."
I slammed down the phone, not waiting for another word. As tears begged to come rolling down my cheeks, I ran outside.

The blast of freezing air took my breath away as I opened the door. I wasn't going to cry, not now, all these years later. I glanced up at the icicles hanging off the edge of the marquee. If anything was going to ruin my holidays it wasn't going to be this. No, she would love that. "I'll just go get some popcorn and sit in the theater and watch the movie," I said to myself. It was always an escape then.

Trying to forget the phone call, I started to turn around back into the theater, when I saw a paper fly by on the sidewalk. My conscience told me to pick it up, save some poor bird or something I'm sure. I glanced down at what it said, it was a pamphlet from the other theater next door. COMING SOON: THE PRODUCERS was displayed across the top in big letters. Then it hit me. Literally. Stars started coming into my vision as I realized a large icicle had broken off and struck me. As more stars spotted my vision, I knew I was going down. The last thing I remember was a man walking towards me, mumbling something that sounded like Charlie Brown's teacher. "Maybe a Charlie Brown Christmas would be nice..."

I opened my eyes. I looked around. I could not remember a thing for the life of me. What was I doing here in this perfectly clean, white room. "Am I dead?"
"No darling of course not. Your in a hospital, lucky to be alive."
The voice came from a lady in the corner. Something seemed familiar about her, but I couldn't quite put my finger on it. A man walked in, wearing a white coat, the doctor I assume.
"Do you remember anything?" he said.
I thought, and tried to remember.
"I don't know. What am I supposed to remember?"
"What's your name?"
"Heather, duh. I'm not stupid."
"Who is this woman."
"I don't know, I've never seen her."
"Heather, this is your mom."