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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1977282-Not-Here-Again
by Janie
Rated: E · Short Story · Other · #1977282
How the life and love of so many people hangs on the tips of the words on a page.
  Not here again, not now not ever. Why does this always have to happen to me? I remember, I swear I do. Don't make me go back I don't belong there anymore, it isn't my time, that's not my place and I don't want to do this again.

It certainly wouldn't class it as a room but it definitely wasn't freedom. Though I could roam wherever I wanted I knew I would never find sanctuary, sanity or even my own trail of thought. I knew from experience I'd been here before. I always end up here and it never ends differently. You'd think for I woman with no memory that it would be a surprise to me. Ending up in a foreign land, unknowing of anything and everything, but it wasn't, not anymore. You see, this is the place where memories are lost and never made. Never found or ever used, at least by me anyway and I've never seen another living soul here so how would I know? It's not as if I haven't tried, I do every time or I used to anyway. There doesn't seem like any point anymore. My only memories are of me being here and I don't see the point of knowing that if every time I become trapped in what I can only presume is a hell of my own creation.

Why would they sit you in a window like this? Were they hoping that letting the sun burn your retina and wake you up? "Good morning mum" I lent down kissing her forehead and smoothing her warm cheeks with the slender of my hand. She was ever so frail; I'd notice this every time I saw her and every time she'd be just a little paler or just a little thinner. But it's been a while; I've missed her so much. "Do they always put you in yellow? You never liked yellow. Is this even yours? I've never seen it before". Then again, it's been weeks since my last visit. Maybe her styles changed, do you even notice? Can you even care?

I think it reminded me of a forest, except there weren't any trees or at least I don't think there are. They don't feel like trees or look like trees, oh if only I could remember the smell of trees. Like when I would take little Hilary to the park, she would laugh in the cutest of ways. Her eyes would sparkle like the greenest emeralds excavated from the deepest caves. But that was her all over; she was my light in the dark. She always there, depending on me, needed me; forcing me not to mess up but now, now I have no idea what she's like. Or if she's even here. I hope she isn't, I hope she hasn't seen me in this state and that's she's off living her life. Being the brilliant young lady I always wanted her to be. Not caring for me, now that would truly be shameful. I never wished to impede on her life and god I hope I haven't. Nevertheless, I would give anything to say good bye, to let her know that I'll be fine and she will always be in my heart. To truly let her go, so that we can both move on. Now that would be a dream come true.

They startled me, just bursting in like that. Not a moment of privacy but then again in a place like this I guess it's not really necessary. They said they needed to feed her 'they' needed to. As if I was incapable, she's my mother. I'd do anything for her but I can't do everything, not all at once and not on my own. I'd visit more if I could but I'm the one who has to foot the bill for this place, do excuse me for taking a double shift to cover my study as well but I didn't choose for my life to end up this way. I didn't want to put her in a home but I couldn't take her to university with me and I don't think leaving her home with the cat would have done her much good. They look at me as if I'm the worst person to wander the earth but I tried, I am trying and I can't change what's already happened.

Do you know what it's like not to be able to do anything? Not here anyway.

Elisabeth.














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