1 A Blurred Memory

Heavy breathing. Vision giving away to the fog of mind. She is trying to run faster but the feet are giving away as if they no longer belong to her. She must run away. She must. The light there is light at the end of the tunnel. Just forty more paces. She can reach it. It's coming closer. A loud bang! She opens her eyes. The same dream over and over replaying in her mind. She woke up covered in sweat as if she had been boxing but she knows. She got up her breathing was not normal. "Count to twenty, Anne" she muttered out of breath. One, two three...

The room was dimly lit only the light of the moon which entered scattered through the window laminated the room. There were just a bed and a study table in the room. She put on her crocs. Jumped out of bed. It was chilly after all it was the middle of November. She made her way to the kitchen. Her aunt had forgotten to put a glass of water today so she must fetch it herself. For the Anne of winter of last year this was no big of a deal but this Anne this changed Anne who was now scared by the sight of her shadows this was no less than a nightmare. A nightmare, equivalent to the one she woke up from. The door creaked a little when she opened it. Her heart raced a little but soon it calmed down. Fortunately, the hall was lit. Perhaps, her aunt was awake. She glanced at the grandfather clock placed at the very end of the hallway. One of the night.

She felt her way through the hallway downstairs. Her aunt was asleep. She quickly made her way to the kitchen. Poured a glass of water. And quickly almost ran to her bedroom. She locked the door again and hid under the sheets. Sleep would take its time to come and she tried not to overthink. Listening to her breath made Anne uneasy. Why it was so calm but her mind was racing.

In the streets of pines fall right now no one was found. The streetlamp flickered in the dark the sky was soft and cloudless stars were glittering the winter wind danced in the streets, merciless.

It took about an hour or two for her to enter her leftover slumber. Life was not easy for Anne winters but she was a fighter, she was brave, she was alive after who knows what.

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The sun had risen. The sweet aroma of pancakes filled the house. Anne made her way down to the kitchen. The sunlight lit the whole room. Ingredients on the counter, aunt singing merrily and making pancakes. Good at both the activities. Anne quietly sat down at the table and her aunt presented her with her finest pancakes.

"Chocolate syrup?" she questioned.

"Did I use to like it?" Anne looked puzzled.

"Not really. You were more of a banana person." Aunt smiled. The small white teeth in her mouth glimmered.

"Hmm, nothing changed I guess then". Anne tried to force a laugh. But it was helpless. Tears rained instead.

Her aunt sat by her side." My dear, everything might have changed but sometimes we have to move on."

"What is it that I am forgetting?" she said sobbing " I've tried countless time... to... to..." she broke into another hysterical cry.

"It's alright dear, don't think about it too much, don't think about it at all". She rubbed her back." We all have to face choices sometimes. In such choices moving on and forgetting what's forgotten is the best".

"But... is it easy?"

"Not all good choices are easy."

She went up to clean herself.

The tap water was running. She looked into the bathroom mirror. What has changed in me? What is it that everyone notices? Why do I Have the same recurring dreams? It's like my life is a puzzle and nothing is in place yet the picture is complete. Such thoughts ran through her mind.

She noticed her eyes were the same emerald. Same round face. Red hair. Nothing had changed yet everything somehow had. She noticed she was paler than her pictures before. Before what? she didn't know. There was a part of her life lost. No memory at all. It haunted her from time to time.

Downstairs the breakfast table was all set.

"Dear, I am going to the office now." Her aunt sighed.

"But aunt I am not well" she didn't want to be left alone in the house again.

It's alright. You know I see improvement plus I have already taken so many days off, I might end up losing the job which by the way is not half bad but you know I have to earn." Aunt tried to make her understand.

"What if I am frightened again?" the town was awake by now as the newspaper landed on the front door with a thud.

"If you feel lonely again you can visit Mrs. Wood next door. I've already informed her and she is more than happy to have you at her place." Her aunt gave her hand a little squeeze. "Darling, it's time to move on."

"Move on from what?!" she shouted.

Her aunt was startled. There was a sudden silence. As if the wind had stopped blowing. But the wind was blowing. The cars were honking now in the street. The silence was only forced in the room.

"Move on from this nothingness" there was a softness motherly softness in Theodora's tone.

"You don't know what it's like to have voices in your head. Have your dreams played as a bad DVD stuck somewhere on repeat? Like nothing. It's like I am... I am... empty." The feeling rose again. She could hear her gentle breath, fast yet gentle. It was cringing her to the point of bursting into tears.

The silence took over the dining hall again. Her aunt was looking into her lap as if her eyes were hiding the truth. If she gazed into Anne she will let the secret out.

Anne wasn't crying she didn't feel like it anymore. She just wanted to know. To know what was wrong with her. After a while, her aunt rose.

"Follow me." She said putting a hand over Anne's shoulder.

They stopped in front of the storeroom." You wanted to know what you were like? I'll let you know. Maybe you might be able to find your way back." It was like aunt was talking to herself. Like Anne wasn't there.

"You were quiet," she said as she opened the door.

"Too quiet, never spoke much but you were observing ah yes, always observing."

Theodora pulled a box from inside.

"You managed to note the smallest detail in things."

She opened the box and pulled out a notebook. A big drawing pad.

"That's what made you a good artist."

She handed it to Anne. Anne flipped through the pages with nice illustrations some had little paragraphs written in the corner some were just beautifully painted.

"You were brilliant in it."

Anne took her time flipping through. she stared at the illustrations wondering if it really was her. She had a small recollection of liking vibrant colors but there was fear lingering in those memories that prevented her from even touching them.

"Maybe if you were able to draw something now, practice something maybe you can find the Anne that was." Theodora broke a silence which Anne wouldn't dare to.

"Why can't you tell me everything?" the words had forced her back to reality, not that she was lost in her mind in the first place.

"It's for your good that you find it yourself."

Afterward, her aunt got ready and left. She had told her to at least visit Mrs. Woods. She told her she'd like her.

The November wind kept on blowing. There was a chance of a snowstorm that day.

She slowly walked back upstairs to her darkroom where even the sun wasn't allowed to trespass. The moon, however, had a few tricks up its sleeves.