Night Train

'Don't you remember anything? '
Gianna looked into the face that stared back at her not having a clue who she was looking at but he seemed to know who she was. 'I can't remember much since the accident but you seem somewhat familiar to me.'
He stared blankly before saying, 'Here; come sit with me. Maybe these photos will help.' She looked at the pile of albums on the table. 'Okay, ' she cleared her throat. 'I guess it couldn't hurt.' He watched her as she picked up a black photo album. His anticipation grew as she opened it up. Gianna looked at what appeared to be recent photos of herself. She looked at the woman's face but seemed confused. 'I don't know her, ' she said as she looked down at her own hair as she twisted it inside of her finger tips. 'Why is her hair different? ' she asks him. 'Don't you mean why does YOUR hair look different? ' he questions. 'That isn't me, ' she whispers. 'I don't know anything about her.' 'It will all come back to you I promise Gianna; it will.' 'What if it doesn't? I don't owe her anything! Why did she want to change who she was? ' Gianna demanded. 'She wasn't changing who she was. I mean you didn't want to change who you were, ' he looked suspiciously.
'That's all that we're trying to do Gianna. We're all trying to help you. We want the truth just as much as you do.' 'For one, ' Gianna smiles crookedly. 'I don't trust you. Secondly, I'll remember on my own terms. Thirdly, I work alone.' Gianna grabbed a trash bag and filled it up with the photo albums and a set of keys off of the key hook as she opens the front door. 'Adios, ' Gianna winks back at him. Don't wait up for me.' 'Where are you going Gianna? ' He stormed after her. 'You shouldn't drive or be alone. What if your condition gets worse? '

by Gianna Jett Click to read full poem

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