âToday is Stephieâs first time being hospitalized for treatment. Peter said Stephieâs condition isnât severe. She can live a normal life like else with proper treatment.
everyone âToday is Stephieâs second time being hospitalized for treatment. Peter said Stephie is getting better and is starting to play games with other kids.
âToday is Stephieâs third time being hospitalized for treatment. Peter said Stephieâs condition has worsened.
âToday, Georgie ran away from home. We searched for a long time before finding out that it had sneaked into the psychiatric hospital to look for Stephie.
âGeorgie hasnât been eating or drinking since returning home. Itâs been lying at the door, looking sad. I know itâs waiting for Stephie.â
The photo was taken by my mother. Georgie was lying at the door with its head down, looking lonely.
My heart ached as I gently touched the photo with my fingers, wanting to touch Georgie.
I had no memories of Georgie, but seeing his photo still brought tears to my eyes.
âPeter said Stephie can return to a normal life now. We can take her home. Iâm so happy. I cried all night yesterday. We can finally bring Stephie home.â
According to the diary, I went to Peter for treatment three times. The final hospitalization lasted half a year, and the entire treatment process took a whole year. What did Peter do to me during that year? Why couldnât I remember anything?
It was like that part of my memory had been wiped clean from my mind. I couldnât remember a single thingâ¦
âStephie and Georgie.â
After completing my first treatment at the psychiatric hospital, Georgie was still alive.
I successfully entered kindergarten. Although I was a bit socially isolated, I could still live a normal life with my friends and teachers.
When I was eight years old, the same year I met Steven, I was admitted to the psychiatric hospital once again.
The reason was that I stabbed a child at the orphanage. It was not fatal, but everyone was terrified.
According to the diary, I killed a chicken at the orphanageâ¦
I rubbed my eyebrows, feeling a headache coming on as I looked at my motherâs diary entries about me.
Was I so reckless as a child? Why would I kill a chicken?
The scariest thing was that looking at these entries made me feel like I was looking at someone elseâs life.
It was like the memories from that period didnât belong to me at all.
Who was I before I lost my memory?
Michael was wary and afraid of me, yet he said he loved meâ¦
The person Steven was obsessed with, protected, and loved was also the me of that timeâ¦
Was I really much better back then than I was now?
I was lying despondently in bed. I stared at the ceiling, unable to fall asleep.
Strangely enough, I felt a bit jealous of myself.
Although I didnât know why I lost my memories, I found myself jealous of the version of me who still had those memories.
âMs. Stephie, itâs time for breakfast.â
Around 7:30 am, Angel came and knocked on the door.
I didnât respond to her.
After another half hour, Angel came again. âMs. Stephie, itâs time for breakfast.â
I reluctantly opened the door, only to see Michael standing outside.
âStephie, come downstairs for breakfast.â He was about to knock on the door, but he was relieved when he saw me open it. âDid you sleep well last night?â
I looked at Angel warily and asked Michael, âDid you sleep well last night?â
Angel subconsciously glanced at me. Out of Michaelâs sight, she made a hush gesture and gently shook her head.
I was stunned for a moment, my body stiffening.
What did she mean? Did she discover me in Michaelâs room last night?