You know those days when you wake up and your head is pounding so hard that you think someone might be genuinely trying to get into your skull with a chisel and hammer, the proper old-fashioned way?

I guess that’s the price of memories.

I couldn’t bring myself to take any more of those pills. It was the first coherent thought I had when I opened my eyes, after all the panicked ‘why is my head hurting oh God my head feels like it’s gonna explode damn this is Hell’ got out of the way. I don’t care what the psychologist offers me, there’s no way I’m putting myself through that.

On the plus side, the headache has worn off a little bit. Unfortunately, I sorta have to believe that she was right about them giving me energy, because despite the pain, I feel a lot more like actually doing something today. Not that the energy’s particularly helpful, being locked in here, but at least it’s something, I guess.

I don’t know. I’m struggling to come up with positives in this situation. Wait… I hear tapping.

Conversation with Helen

-considering she’s tapping on the other side of the wall, I start to tap on my side, and then she abruptly stops tapping-

Her: You could have said ‘hello’, you know.

Me: I was going to write you an essay in morse code about how much I appreciate you being my ‘other-side-of-the-wall-buddy’, but now I don’t feel like it. (I stop tapping here)

Her: I don’t know morse code, so that would have been pointless.

Me: Me neither. There’s not really a point to anything I’ve been doing recently, though. Psychologist lady gave me some pills.

Her: The three a days?

Me: You’ve got them too?

Her: They’re not exactly inventive in here. If you stick around for long enough, you’ll realise all the questionnaires start to sound the same. They’re all from the same template.

Me: Do they give you headaches as well?

Her: The questionnaires? Not literally, but they’re as annoying as one.

Me: What? No, the- never mind. I’m not taking them again, though.

Her: Where are you taking the questionnaires? You’ve been let outside already?

Me: We’re not on the same page here, are we? And what do you mean, outside? You’ve gone outside?

Her: I thought you said you went outside. With the questionnaire?

Me: Right, no. No questionnaires – we’re not talking about questionnaires. I was talking about the pills. (trying not to get too annoyed at the only sane person I can talk to in here)

Her: The three a days?

Me: Yeah, those. (very relieved we’re back on track)

Her: What about them?

Me: The headache! I feel like I was half-cut last night or something. Worst hangover ever and all that.

Her: Oh. I’ve never had any side effects from them, really. To be honest, I’m surprised they didn’t start you on them sooner. Maybe you fell out of bed in the night, hit your head on something.

Me: I think I would realise if that happened by, y’know, waking up on the floor.

Her: Good point. Might be something from your medical history messing up with them in your system, to be fair. Could be… no, ignore me. I forgot.

Me: Eh?

Her: No, no, it’s nothing. Maybe you’re just not used to the caffeine.

Me: …the what?

Her: Don’t tell me you don’t know what caffeine is.

Me: I’m not fucking stupid, I know what caffeine is. But are you telling me that’s all they are?

Her: No, I’m telling you that they’ve got caffeine in them. There’s other stuff too. Some lovely mixture of chemicals to keep us quiet and barely functioning.

Me: I don’t know, I mean, I feel better now than I did before I took them – apart from the headache. But you’re saying that’s not normal?

Her: I’m saying I don’t get headaches. But there’s a world of difference between me taking them and you taking them. We’re different people.

Me: Well, that’s true. I could have cancer or something.

Her: Your mind went straight to cancer?

Me: I remember barely anything about myself. I only just figured out what job I had.

Her: You’re getting memories back?

Me: Just the one. Working in a supermarket. Pretty sure it’s what I did before I ended up here. Some kid was sick all over himself, and most of everything around him. Awesome memory, right?

Her: A supermarket? Public-facing, then. And kids. Yeah, that makes sense.

Me: What makes sense?

Her: Nothing. Ignore me. Just figuring some things out.

Me: You’re worse than that psychologist for not telling me the important stuff, y’know.

Her: I know. But unlike her, I’m doing this for your own good.

-there’s a pause for a few seconds, and then I have a serious thought-

Me: You’d tell me if it was cancer, wouldn’t you?

Her: What on earth do you mean?

Me: If I had cancer. Have cancer, I mean. And that’s why I’m here. And you have it too. Experimental treatment, that could be it. They’ve been doing a lot for cancer lately. All that new research. What if we’re the guinea pigs for a cure? A really amazing super-cure that just fixes it? But you’d tell me, right? Because I’ve worked that out on my own, so you really should tell me.

Her: Jesus, it’s not cancer. At least, I don’t have cancer. I don’t know about you.

Me: So it might be cancer?

Her: If they were keeping us here for cancer treatment, we’d be in hospital beds, not locked rooms. There’d be – oh God, I don’t know, chemo and stuff like that. Our families would be allowed to see us. And you’d be sick, really sick. You’d notice.

Me: You promise it’s not cancer?

Her: With all my heart, it’s not cancer. You’re not going to die here, unless they keep us for so long that it’s of natural causes.

Me: But then why… why the medication?

Her: Look, in every pharmacy in the country, there’s thousands of people taking thousands of different pills and tablets and creams and who-knows-what-else, for all sorts of reasons. I’m not going to tell you why we’re here until you remember on your own, because honestly, it’s better if you don’t know. Right now you’re confused and frustrated, and I get that, because I was too. Knowing doesn’t make it better.

Me: But not knowing is driving me insane, Helen. We’re in the same boat. I assume we are, anyway. I need all the information.

Her: Just wait for it to come back to you naturally. If the three a days help, then take them. It’s better to ease yourself into it anyway. You’ll work it out, and then you’ll see I was right.