SHANE. “I don’t think that had anything to do with it, Ripp,” I said as I sat up in the hospital bed.

“Well, why they want to keep ya over night? Don’t make sense,” Ripp responded.

“I don’t think Shane would be nervous about the fight either. He fights all the time, and never gets nervous. It’s probably a lot of things. Diet, training, nerves, everything combined,” Kace said from the edge of the bed as she squeezed my hand.

“Well, they can say you had a nervous meltdown, but if they want to keep ya for more tests, they don’t know shit. I’m gonna talk to that prick when he comes in here,” Ripp said.

“Ripp, leave it alone. Just let them do their tests, and I’ll be out of here in the afternoon tomorrow. It’s not a huge deal. I guarantee you it’s nothing else. He’s signing a release for me to fight,” I assured him.

“Well, that’s the biggest thing. I don’t want you lying to me, you fucker. Having a fucking brain hemorrhage or something and telling me it’s a hemorrhoid,” he laughed.

“Not gonna happen, bro,” I said.

Kace turned my direction, squeezed my hand, and smiled. I couldn’t ask for a better woman than her. Finding someone who was more devoted to me, supportive of my career and generally concerned for my well-being would be impossible. Kace was a beautiful woman in her appearance as well as in her being. I squeezed her hand and smiled in return.

“Well, what about training?” Ripp asked as he paced back and forth across the floor.

“Ripp it’s fine. Jesus, go home. I’ll be back in training in the next day or so. There’s nothing to worry about. Just go home and get some sleep. You two need to go eat anyway. And I’m beat, I need to get some sleep,’ I said in an effort to convince him to leave and relax.

“Yeah, I imagine you are tired, with all those tests they ran on ya. Fuckin’ idiots. I’m hungrier than a motherfucker. What time is it?” Ripp asked.

“Ten after eight,” Kace responded.

“Yeah, maybe we ought to let the man sleep. How you gonna get out of here tomorrow?” Ripp asked.

“Well, one of you two can come get me. She has to work in the morning, so I imagine it’ll be you,” I said as I smiled at Kace.

She scowled at me and squeezed my hand in an exaggerated fashion.

“Oh, shit that hurts,” I joked as I pulled my hand away from her grasp.

“You’re gonna think hurt. I’m going to come when he gets you,” Kace said as she slapped my shoulder.

“We’ll both come and get him, Shorty. I’ll come get you, and we’ll both come up here. How’s that?” Ripp asked.

“Sounds good,” Kace responded.

“Well, if you’re sure you’ll be alright, we’ll get out of here,” Ripp said.

“Yeah. I’ll be fine, and we’ll all go out tomorrow and eat or something, I just need to sleep,” I said as I held my hand to my mouth to cover a fake yawn.

Kace stood from the edge of the bed and leaned over to kiss me, “I’m sorry, all of this just scared me. I’ll see you tomorrow, Shane.”

“Don’t worry. I’ll be fine,” I responded.

“Love ya, bro,” Ripp said as he held his fist over the bed.

I clenched my hand into a fist and pounded it against Ripp’s hand. He pounded against mine in return.

“Alright, let’s do this,” Ripp said as he put his arm around Kace.

“Take care of her, Ripp,” I said as they faced the door.

Ripp turned his head, looked over his shoulder and said what I expected him to.

“I got this,” he smiled.

I got this.

Ripp was better at being a friend than most people were at being family. We are stuck with our family; we don’t get to choose them. We choose our friends, and I was certainly glad I chose Ripp. As I lay in bed, I wish I could have chosen my family. I reached up to my neck to make sure my dog tags were gone.

I never wanted to see them again.

The doctor ran every type of test he could to determine if there was brain damage. After all of the tests results came in with the same result - negative, I told the truth about what I knew regarding my collapse. I didn’t know what caused it, but I knew to some degree what I felt immediately before it had happened. Additionally, I could clearly see the differences in myself afterward.

Some strange combination of Kace seeing her mother, the crying, and emotion triggered a nightmare while I was asleep in the living room. When Kace and I walked into the bedroom, I felt strange. When she opened the footlocker, something inside of me snapped. My head filled with the memories of my childhood, depicted as a dozen little movies all trying to play inside my head at once.

It was more than I could make sense of, but any fool would have been able to understand the content of the memories. They were all the same.

My father was beating my mother.

I’m not certain if I chose at some point in time in my life to rid myself of those memories, or if my brain naturally did it to try and let me live in some form of peace. I know for my entire adult life I have not been able to recollect any memories of my childhood. I had always attributed the lack of memory to the fact we shuffled around from house to house when I was a child.

I now knew the memory loss had nothing to do with moving from home to home. Now, as I lay in the hospital bed, I was beginning to recall memories of my entire childhood.

And I didn’t like any of it.

My father was a savage.

My mother left when I was a child. Now, I knew why. I had spent my late teens and entire adult life standing up for every woman who had been abused and now I had a clear understanding why I felt such a desire to assist them. I wanted to vomit. As I tried to make sense of what was developing in my head, the door opened the door.

“Dekkar? Shane Dekkar?” the doctor asked.

I sat up in bed, “Yes sir.”

“How are you feeling?” he asked as he approached the bed.

“Fine sir. I’m a little confused. I have new memories running around in my head and it’s strange, really strange. Hard to explain,” I said as I rubbed my temples with both hands.

“The human mind is a fabulously complex piece of equipment,” he stated as he leaned closer to me and looked into my eyes with a light.

“Well, I have a thousand questions,” I said as I tossed my legs over the bed.

“I’m afraid I probably won’t have any of the answers you’re looking for. I’m a family practice doctor. You’re going to need to talk to a psychiatrist. We’re going to want to keep you here until tomorrow, if that’s alright with you. I think it will be best,” he said as he leaned away from the bed.

“Well, I have some questions about not so much why this happened, but what to do now?” I asked.

“Again, I’m not going to be a big help. Actually, I really won’t be any help at all. There are considerable improvements a psychiatrist can make, I’m sure. He can address everything tomorrow. Get some sleep and we’ll talk in the morning,” he said as he approached the foot of the bed.

“Improvements? I don’t want improvements. I need this to stop,” I pleaded.

“Again, I can’t do anything for you right now. I can get you something to help you sleep, but that’s about it,” he responded in a matter-of-fact tone.

I shook my head. Drugs were the last thing I wanted, “No, I’ll be fine. Tomorrow it is.”

He nodded his head and walked out.

I raised my legs up onto the bed and relaxed. As I looked at the ceiling, it wasn’t what I necessarily wanted to admit, but any recovery from the memories was going to be on my own. There wasn’t a doctor, psychiatrist or psychologist who was going to cure me.

Without a doubt, they would all tell me the same thing.

You’ll need to just accept it. The sooner you do, the sooner you’ll start healing.

I closed my eyes and attempted to come to terms with the fact my father was a man I would beat the absolute hell out of if I was given a chance.