one sick joke

by Adele Schultz

It had been around 4 days since the incident. 4 days since I had found out my husband, the man I haven’t seen in years , had lost his memory.

It was hard, probably the hardest thing I've ever done, to try and process it. He didn’t remember me. He hated me. He didn’t remember his past, his life, everything he’d worked up to. So, I decided, one way to cope was to do something he couldn’t do now; reminisce.

My memories brought me back to when we were young, around seventeen years old, so around a decade ago. The two of us had been dating for a couple of months. We had already been through so much together, too much for kids that young. We were sitting on the roof of the temple our little group of friends were living in at the time. The sun was setting and he was munching on something. I think it was a cookie or sweet of some sort. I examined his face. A face I could never forget. His pale skin contrasted with his orange hair and his blue eyes were focused on the skyline. His mouth was busy with eating and telling me a story about his childhood. His sleeves were rolled up, exposing his freckled arms. Scars scattered across his skin, most of which he refused to tell me the true story of.

He made a little joke, one he didn’t even mean to, which made me chuckle. He looked over to me confused, raising an eyebrow.

“It wasn’t that funny,” He said, still holding the sweet in his hands.

I shrugged, “it was kind of funny.”

He nodded, as if he was accepting praise, “I guess I'm so funny, even when I don’t try to be.”

“Hey, don’t get too cocky.”

He shrugged and took another bite of the snack, looking back to the sunset.

“You are pretty funny, though,” I muttered, smiling, still looking in his direction.

“Is that why you like me?” He replied, leaning to me.

I leaned my head back and pushed him away jokingly, “Ew, no.”

He raised his hands up in defense, “I’m just asking, I'm just asking.”

He turned his gaze away from me, focusing back on the sunset.

We sat like that for a bit. It must’ve been a minute or so. I kept my direction on him, as if memorising what he looked like. The sun shining on his orange hair made it look even more beautiful then it usually did. His blue eyes now looked like a whirlpool of colours. I shuffl ed my knees up to my chest, wrapping my arms around them, leaning my cheek against my knee. If only our lives were always like this. Always this peaceful.

“So, you don’t like me enough to admit I'm funny but you’re fi ne with ogling me?” He said, keeping his gaze on the sunset.

My eyes widened and I put my hands over my face, embarrassed he had noticed my staring. He began laughing, his loud and annoying laugh. Him sounding like a dying hyena tied in with his comedic timing, made me burst in laughter, my hands still covering my face. I remember peeking out through the crack of my fingers to catch a glance at him, who was still cackling. His eyes were closed and his smile pushed the skin on his cheeks up to his eyeline. He looked so carefree.

I opened my eyes. The memory fading into black in my head. I took in a breath, calming myself from the whiplash of the memory, his smile and his laugh. I would do anything to hear his loud, annoying cackle again.

Instead of looking back on the memory with a smile and sigh, I did something my love would’ve been disappointed with. I brought my hands to my face just like I did as a teenager. But I didn’t laugh. Instead I broke down in tears hysterically.

BIO: Adele Schultz is a 15 year old student at Lillian Osborne Highschool. She has been working on these projects in her Creative Writing class. She enjoys writing fiction, horror and everything in between!