Writing prompt...
I was reading the NaNoWriMo forums and looking at the writing prompts. I've never done those before, so thought I'd find a good one to practice my writing. I need to do a lot more writing, especially if I plan on getting a whole novel next month! Anyway, I rather liked the first one I came across and thought I'd give it a go, so here's my attempt. The time limit was 15 minutes and the writing prompt was "What are you gonna do?" I went through 15 minutes, and ended with a word count of 550.
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Dear Diary,
Is that how I usually start these things? I don't know. I guess it's as good of a start as any.
So. I woke up this morning in the hospital. Some woman was there and she told me I had been in a coma for weeks. They didn't know if I'd ever wake up again. Oh, yeah, that woman is my mother. At least, she says she is. According to the nurse, I wouldn't know, because I have retrograde amnesia. I think I can believe her on that, because I don't remember anything up until I woke up in the hospital bed. I also met a man they tell me is my father, and I seem to have two younger sisters, Anna and Lizzy. I keep getting them mixed up. I think Lizzy is the one with the brown hair, but I'm not sure.
I've been trying to piece together what my life is like, who everyone is and all. They tell me I like to write a lot, that I wanted to be a freelance writer. My mother suggested I start this diary, in hopes that writing about things might trigger some memories. She said I've always kept a diary, but that I've also always kept it hidden, so she couldn't get it for me. When I get home, wherever that is, I should poke around my room and try to find it. If I could read over that, maybe I'd remember some of the stuff I'd written about.
This amnesia stuff is weird. I can remember how to talk, how to eat, how to walk, and all that stuff, but I can't remember anything about my life. It's strange how the brain works that way. Like if I can remember how to live, you'd think I'd remember my life.
It's weird for everyone around me too. It must be hard on my family for me not to remember them, and some of the friends who have stopped by have had a hard time grasping it too. A girl named Jennie, apparently one of my best friends, came to visit, and started talking about some trip we had taken, or maybe we haven't taken it yet and were going to. I don't know. Anyway, she started talking, then realized I didn't understand, and it got pretty awkward for her. Not so much for me. Everything is awkward to me, so that wasn't much different. Awkwardness seems to be my life now.
I'll write more in a bit. My family just returned with some stuff from "home."
Okay, back now. They brought me some things they thought might help trigger my memory. I have a big fuzzy white teddy bear named Jack sitting beside me. Seems I got him from a friend last Christmas and named him Jack Frost. Then my sisters brought me some of my favorite music and have been playing it for me. Seems I'm quite the Sinatra fan. It is rather nice music.
I'm not sure how much longer I'll be in the hospital. Hopefully I can get out soon. Maybe going home will help. But what am I going to do now? How do I piece my life back together, when I don't even remember my own name?
It's Maggie, by the way.
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Dear Diary,
Is that how I usually start these things? I don't know. I guess it's as good of a start as any.
So. I woke up this morning in the hospital. Some woman was there and she told me I had been in a coma for weeks. They didn't know if I'd ever wake up again. Oh, yeah, that woman is my mother. At least, she says she is. According to the nurse, I wouldn't know, because I have retrograde amnesia. I think I can believe her on that, because I don't remember anything up until I woke up in the hospital bed. I also met a man they tell me is my father, and I seem to have two younger sisters, Anna and Lizzy. I keep getting them mixed up. I think Lizzy is the one with the brown hair, but I'm not sure.
I've been trying to piece together what my life is like, who everyone is and all. They tell me I like to write a lot, that I wanted to be a freelance writer. My mother suggested I start this diary, in hopes that writing about things might trigger some memories. She said I've always kept a diary, but that I've also always kept it hidden, so she couldn't get it for me. When I get home, wherever that is, I should poke around my room and try to find it. If I could read over that, maybe I'd remember some of the stuff I'd written about.
This amnesia stuff is weird. I can remember how to talk, how to eat, how to walk, and all that stuff, but I can't remember anything about my life. It's strange how the brain works that way. Like if I can remember how to live, you'd think I'd remember my life.
It's weird for everyone around me too. It must be hard on my family for me not to remember them, and some of the friends who have stopped by have had a hard time grasping it too. A girl named Jennie, apparently one of my best friends, came to visit, and started talking about some trip we had taken, or maybe we haven't taken it yet and were going to. I don't know. Anyway, she started talking, then realized I didn't understand, and it got pretty awkward for her. Not so much for me. Everything is awkward to me, so that wasn't much different. Awkwardness seems to be my life now.
I'll write more in a bit. My family just returned with some stuff from "home."
Okay, back now. They brought me some things they thought might help trigger my memory. I have a big fuzzy white teddy bear named Jack sitting beside me. Seems I got him from a friend last Christmas and named him Jack Frost. Then my sisters brought me some of my favorite music and have been playing it for me. Seems I'm quite the Sinatra fan. It is rather nice music.
I'm not sure how much longer I'll be in the hospital. Hopefully I can get out soon. Maybe going home will help. But what am I going to do now? How do I piece my life back together, when I don't even remember my own name?
It's Maggie, by the way.
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