5. Nilda Meyrick: Lost and Forgotten.

He looked at me and I could see the pain and sadness on his face, the worry quite apparent on his features. My husband, apparently. And I was staring at him, hoping to find a spark of recognision that just never came. I hadn't said a word for a while, just sat there listening to him telling me about how we met. The things we had done together, or atleast a few of them. And nothing he said made me remember.
His hand reaching out for mine, trying to show me the feelings we supposedly had for eachother. But I flinched away, to me this man was a stranger. In the memories I still possessed I hadn't even kissed a man before. Let alone be married and have his children. The confusion was overwhelming but what bothered me most was the discomfort of sitting here. How was I supposed to react to him? Who was I at all with this man? From everything I had heard up untill now nothing had sounded like myself. Fighting wars, leaving home.
Sure, there has been times that I had pondered about leaving. But actually gathering the courage and guts to tell Paps about wanting to leave home. Leave the farm and him, it sounded too far fetched for now. The scars told me that atleast something of their stories must be true, scars of which some he managed to explain.

On the middle of my stomach, three large patches of shredded skin. Bullets. I had been shot to protect the man before me. Nearly died but was saved by a man he said was named Eloresh Silversmith. It didn't ring any bells.

“Nilda...we'll find a way to get your memories back. I'll make sure of that.”

His voice sounded so far away to me, his words even further. Together? With him? I wasn't even sure if that is what I wanted at all. The man, Morty, kneeling before me at my feet. Holding my hand with his fingers caressing the rings. The rings ... one of them a family heirloom, our engagmentring. He told me how he had proposed to me on my nineteenth birthday, in Hillsbrad even. Frankly he had told me too many things, most of them somewhat forgotten already. I can't keep track of the things I'm told. They're just stories to me, about a woman. A woman named Nilda Meyrick who has left her home and became a sergeant of the Argent Crusade. And even if that woman has the same name as me, she simply isn't me.

Shaking my head at Morty I try to stand up. My leg still bothers me greatly and hurts with every step I take. When he found me, or when I found him he had taken me into his arms immediatly. Relief on his face that I was back, yet worried about the state I was in. Asked me what happened and where I had been, and all I had managed was stare at him blankly. Remain non-responding to his embrace. Lieutenant Miller had told me the name of my supposed husband. So I knew for certain this was who I was looking for. But how had I ended up with a man nearly twice my own age? Would Paps have approved?
I can't ask him, I can't go back home. Paps is gone, it's something I don't want to linger on right now. In a single moment I had lost my memories, and my father and home all over again. It was just unbearable. It kept me awake at night and the headaches have become more frequent too.
I'm like a half-empty shell at the moment, I remember everything clearly up untill nearly two years ago. Why I can't remember I don't know, why I am this injured I can't recall either. Time will tell?

Where do I even start? Normally I should stay here, with him. With my “husband” but I really don't want to. Perhaps I have indeed fallen in love for him, gladly formed a family together. But at the moment I'm feeling nothing. Not a single spark ignited to remind me of what is supposed to be there.
The children.
Twins they are, Sarah and Garvian. My mams name was Sarah, we named the girl after her. That did sound like me. They are undoubtably part of me, some of their features reminded me of myself, or even somewhat of paps. But when they crawled over to me, away from their nanny I didn't even know what to do. Bright smiles and grabbing hands with a rather incoherent blabbering I didn't understand a single word from. Well none aside from “Mommmmyyyyyy”.
I feel horrible, these toddlers wanted my embrace, my kisses and my love. And all I did was staring at them with tears falling down my face out of sheer helplessness. What was I supposed to do?

I ran away, I walked out of the door. When everything at once is shown to you and nothing of it feels familiar of brings back a single distant memory...
Panic is all I feel right now, what if my memories never come back and I have lost nearly two years of my life forever? Can I learn to love my husband again? Will I develop that bond with my children nonetheless?
I am so scared, and there is nobody I can go to. Nobody I actually remember trusting, not a single person I -know- that I can turn to. I can't even go home.
I feel so lost and alone, I don't want to be in this city anymore...