‘The most traumatic experience in my life happened when I was young, much younger than I am now. I’ve only heard stories of the accident. How my mother dragged my limp body out of the car and the multiple times my heart failed to beat. Doctors say my memories of the day may never come back. It’s a protection mechanism apparently, where certain times in our lives may seem fuzzy or won’t come to mind at all. The trauma of the incident would likely be too much to bear.

For some reason, not just the incident won’t come to mind though. I can’t remember even a minute of my childhood before the incident. This wouldn’t be overly concerning except for the dreams that began a few days ago. Dreams of grandeur and frightening realism all set during different periods of my childhood.’

“Hey, Tim! How are the new advertisements coming along?” I quickly snapped back to reality and minimized the story I was writing as my boss Jeremy walked up. He was a tall, rather handsome guy with a beard that made him appear more as a lumberjack than a middle manager.

“Morning Jerry! I’m almost done with the first five. We should be able to send them out for testing tomorrow.” I showed him the half-finished advertisement I had pulled up on my computer. The image of a smiling man celebrating with friends was all I had for the advertisement so far.

Jerry smiled and said, “Great job! And I hope to see you at the bar this weekend! Just you and me partying like the old days. Just with a lot more money and a much worse tolerance for alcohol.”

I chuckled and swiveled toward him, “Speak for yourself.” I patted the beer gut that was beginning to form. A desk job and little free time had not been great on my body. “I wouldn’t miss it though. We haven’t been able to go out like this in years.” It was then Jerry’s secretary appeared, whispered something in his ear, and with a quick goodbye, he went hurrying off to whichever section of the company now needed him.

My smile slowly dropped once more as I swiveled back towards the luminescent screens of my monitors. Jerry and I go back to our college days where we were roommates as freshmen. He was always the more outgoing one. Always being involved in campus activities and the like. I was his exact opposite. I disliked many of the activities frats, sororities, and the student government threw together. It’s not that I disliked other people I am just a much more withdrawn person than others and prefer spending time alone. This never stopped Jerry from inviting me out with his friends, to social events, and eventually offering me this job. I owe him more than I could ever hope to repay. With his help, I became much more outspoken and confident in who I am. Other than the small gut I now had I was still in decent shape and had a full head of hair which helped as well. I’m surprised at how many people at thirty-five have receding hairlines or are already bald. It’s a staggering amount when you look for it.

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Before getting even more lost in thought I turned my attention back to the story I had minimized. Thinking again, it might be more appropriate to call it a journal. I began typing once more.

‘My first dream took place two nights ago. In the dream, I was a weak, sickly child in a barren bedroom. I can’t remember the color of the room. Brown maybe? I just know that the room was painted one shade of an awful color. I awoke with a gasp scanning the room unsure of who or where I was. I tried standing up, but my legs crumbled underneath my weight and I fell to the ground in blinding pain. My screams echoed throughout the room only causing me to panic further. Two men came bursting into the room and helped me back up onto the bad. Even after I was laid down the pain wouldn’t stop. With immense difficulty, I looked down only to see a bone sticking out of my right leg. The odd thing is I can remember the color of the bone. It was a deep shade of blue. I didn’t get a good look at either of the men’s faces. One was shouting anxiously on his phone while the other was sitting on the bed next to me holding my hand. I just focused on the warmth of the man’s hand, but the pain was overwhelming. Once I lost consciousness I woke up in my bed at home. That morning I checked my right leg for a scar where the bone was sticking out, but my right leg is covered in scars from the car accident. There’s so many that I can’t pinpoint which one might be from that incident if it ever happened.

I often don’t put much importance on dreams, but this one was so vivid and I could remember so many details afterward that I haven’t been able to let it go. The dream I had later that day only further increased my hesitation on whether these dreams could be the childhood I have been missing for so long. ‘

I saved the document and went back to work on the advertisements I had left untouched for longer than I should have. I needed a break from those memories. The dreams felt too real. It was frightening. I pushed back those memories for the time being and spent the rest of the evening working on and finishing the advertisements. I am always the last one to leave the office so after quickly packing up my laptop and notebook I walked out of the empty office building and drove back home. The sun had already set by the time I arrived back at my two bedroom apartment. I’ve always lived alone. I find coming home to an empty, silent home to be soothing in comparison to a loud, full one. After eating a bland microwavable meal in comfortable silence I laid down in my bed for another dream-filled sleep.