Reset Your Password

Reset your password…

Zoe stared at the screen just as she had done a thousand times earlier that day, the day before that, and the day before that. Three words that, a few months ago, would have just been a minor irritation. But now, it meant her life.

Zoe sat in what she had been told was her favorite chair: a dark blue rocking chair, but years of use had chipped away the color. On the seat was a multi-colored striped cushion; in contrast to the worn-looking rocking chair, the cushion looked almost new. This rocking chair on the porch was becoming Zoe’s favorite spot. Along the front of the house was a long table that had miscellaneous items; Zoe would often use it to keep her art materials. When she wasn't drawing or painting, she would keep her art materials in various containers and leave them under the table.

Next to the rocking chair was a small table that was just large enough for a mug and a small plate. Zoe loved working on her art, but something was soothing about sitting in that rocking chair, sipping on raspberry tea, and eating her favorite sandwich: tuna on a toasted bun, with lettuce, a thin slice of tomato, and bacon, lots of bacon.

The front yard was big with a graveled driveway that was several yards away from the street. Zoe liked the fact that a large tree shaded her from the sun and could give her a little privacy without being excluded from the outside world. But the reality was that Zoe didn't need a large tree to make her feel separated from the world. Her mind was doing a great job of that all on its own.

It’s not that Zoe didn’t remember, she remembered a lot: the crooked teeth of her second-grade teacher; the way her dog, Nippy, would jump on her lap every time she sat on the floor; her epic graduation party; her first kiss…Memories were not in short supply, so why couldn’t she remember the people who claimed to be her family?

She was told it was a skiing accident that caused some brain damage. Although her brain recounted many of her memories, it seemed that the people closest to her were just vague images. Zoe would constantly walk through the house staring at the pictures on the wall hoping that something would look familiar. Nothing. It didn’t help that most of the pictures were outdated,

Reset your password…

Resetting her password would not be an issue, Zoe already had one in mind: #love2eatmytuna. But it was asking for answers to her security questions: What’s your mother’s maiden name? That was easy, she just asked her mom. What’s your favorite city? Her parents had named several places that she had supposedly visited, but none of them was the right answer. She noticed she had more memorabilia from San Francisco than from any other place; turns out, that was her favorite city. But the last question had her stumped: What was the name of the dog of her secret friend in second grade? Zoe felt annoyance as she wondered why she had to create her own question. So, she had a secret friend who had a dog…great.

If she could unlock her laptop, she could see pictures she saved and read emails sent with the hope that something would look familiar. Her doctor kept telling Zoe that she wasn’t just dealing with a slight memory loss, she had suffered major brain damage. It could be months or even years before her memory was partially restored.

Partially. That word irritated Zoe the first time she heard it, and ever since, she cringed when it was spoken. Partially. Not full but less than. It was something that Zoe refused to accept. She was much too young to let this be her life. She couldn’t pinpoint it, but she felt the answer she needed was probably something that was hiding in plain sight.

After spending a few hours outside on the porch, Zoe decided to rummage through the attic. Her parents always seemed a bit uncomfortable when she mentioned she wanted to look through the attic. At first, they would gently express their “concerns” but after time, Zoe could sense how uncomfortable they were, even though she didn't know why. So, to avoid the awkward exchange, she would just wait until her parents left the house. They both worked from home so that opportunity didn’t come too often.

Zoe was enjoying her time on the porch, but when her parents came out to say they were going to an event to support a friend, she knew she wanted to use that time to go to the attic. Her parents never forbade her from going to the attic - she was too old for that - but Zoe knew it would be best just to wait until she was alone. The day was so beautiful it was hard to go inside, but Zoe knew that if she didn’t use this time now, it could be days before she had another opportunity.

A secret friend who had a dog. Interesting. What was she hoping to find? She chuckled at the thought of finding a picture of an invisible friend. Funny but spooky, but maybe she could find some clues. When Zoe first came to the attic searching for clues of her past, she would look through boxes randomly. After about a few weeks, she knew she needed to be more organized in her search, so she decided to place any items she had already looked over in the far left corner of the attic; anything that hadn't been looked through would be moved to the right corner, but if something seemed to look even vaguely familiar, she placed it in the large rustic-looking blue trunk.

Although she had only looked through less than half the items in the attic, Zoe felt like spending more time going over the contents in the blue trunk. Zoe had already seen everything in the trunk, but today, she decided to study each item, almost as if she was commanding them to speak to her. Great…so now not only did she have amnesia, she was going crazy.

She fondled a blue crochet bag with yellow flowers. The contents weren't anything earth-shattering: a few coins, gum that was as hard as a rock, a ticket stub, and a small bag of pebbles (Did she use to collect pebbles?).

As Zoe was about to place the bag back into the trunk, a folded piece of paper fell onto the floor. She unfolded it to see a drawing of a girl in front of a house, a smiley-faced sun, light blue puffy clouds, and lots of flowers. Zoe knew she had looked through the bag before, but never noticed this paper. The drawing was definitely from that of a child, but one who had more advanced coloring skills. For whatever reason, Zoe felt comfort in that drawing because it gave her a small connection from her past to the present.

Zoe decided to hold onto the drawing, perhaps find a frame to hang it on her wall. Just as she was about to place the paper on the floor, something in the drawing caught her attention. A dog. It was hidden in the flowers, but it was without a doubt, a dog.

But something else caught her attention: the dog was blue. Her favorite chair was blue; the mug she used almost every day was blue, and of all the boxes and trunks in the attic, Zoe chose the blue one to store the items that resonated with her the most.

As Zoe sat there on the attic floor staring at the picture, it suddenly occurred to her that almost every piece of clothing she had been wearing had the color blue in it. Was that her favorite color? Zoe felt almost giddy at the thought of stumbling on a connection from her past. And with a jolt, Zoe sat up straight. Without a second thought, Zoe knew she had found the answer to the question.

As she made her way downstairs to her room, Zoe could feel her heart pounding. As she picked up her laptop, almost instinctively, she made her way to the porch to sit in her favorite blue chair. That has to be it, she thought.

Zoe read over the question again: What was the name of the dog of her secret friend in second grade? Carefully, she typed the letters B-L-U-E. Correct. She was connected. And now, with tears in her eyes, Zoe read over the prompt that had caused her so much frustration in the past that she now read with the excitement of what was to come:

Reset your password…