[CONTENTID3]I Do Remember[/CONTENTID3]

[CONTENTID2]Chapter 2[/CONTENTID2]

[CONTENTID1]

"Welcome back, Irene," Dad said, when we stopped in front of a three-story house. It was a lovely, modern house, and I loved it. But still, no memories flashed through my mind. 

"Let's go in," Mom patted my shoulder, as she was the one pulling my luggages towards the house. 

"I'll bring my other luggages," turning my heels towards the cab. 

"Your Dad and I will handle it, Irene. You must preserve your energy, first." Mom grabbed my hand, and led me inside the house, the house being lit up with bright lights. 


Eveything inside the house was new to me, as in everything. What memories have been implanted here in this house? How did I live? Did I even have any friends, nor siblings? 


"Do you like it?" Dad asked, after moving all the luggages from the cab. 

I nodded. "I don't know, but I guess it's a new start for me." 

He sighed, and laid a hand on my left shoulder. "You can do this, Irene. We know you can," planting a kiss on my head. 

"Wanna see your room?" He asked. 

"Absolutely," I smiled. 


While walking upstairs, my hand soothed on the railings of the staircase, and it felt new and different. The paintings can even be smelled. Is it just me, or is the house re-constructed and built?  A lot of curiosity wandered in my mind, but I didn't dare to ask Dad. 


Once we reached the last step of the stairs, he led me to the farthest room or door. I knew it was my room. His hands shuffled in his pockets, as I heard the keys. He inserted the right key to my door, and swung the door open. And of course, it was dim and dark. I tried to find the switch, but failed to do so. Instead, Dad did it for me. 


The lights flickered for a few times first, before flashing the brightness in the room. I like how the 'old me' kept it in a simple way. White walls, beige comforter and white pillows, a study desk, bookshelf, and a cabinet. The colors of the room were such a pleasant to my eyes, and I really admired it. 


"It seems like some part of you haven't changed," he laughed. 

I took a step forward to admire the room more, and chuckled. "I may have forgotten everything, but my likings haven't changed, I guess."

"Dad?" 

"Hm?"

"What kind of person was I?" I asked


There was a pause for a moment, and I didn't know for sure if it were a good or bad thing to ask. I saw him his lips, which it became moist.


"She was such a bright kid," he murmured. 

"A bright kid, who always used to smile and laugh everyday," his voice getting louder. 

"She was always happy," he smiled sincerely towards me. "And, I hope she would find that happiness somewhere again, never letting it go."

I nodded slowly, "She will find it, Dad. She will." 




"Good morning, Irene," Dad greeted behind his newspapers. 

"Good morning, too. Where's Mom?" Even though I knew that she would probably be in the kitchen, cooking for breakfast. 

"In the kitchen," he responsed. 


I was about to go to the kitchen, when I saw Mom coming out from the kitchen, with plates on her hands. I immediately went to her, and took some of the plates from her hands. 


"Oh, thank you." Mom and I set the table, and we called Dad to join us in for breakfast. 

"Did you sleep well, Irene?" Mom asked, while she placed a pancake on my platter, though she didn't need to. 

"I slept well, actually," having a taste of the sliced-pancake. 

"You feeling better?" another question has been asked. 

"You don't have to worry about me anymore," wearing a smile on my face. 

"We just couldn't help worrying about yo