The Story Of A Heart

I Wonder

The sun's rays were so weak that barely reached her. The morning was gloomy, damp, and strangely quiet. Agny brought the cup of hot chocolate to her lips, blew on it and took a long sip. The liquid slid down her throat, providing her warmth. She sighed wearily and gazed out the window at the horizon, she could barely sleep. The ghosts of the past kept her awake until five in the morning, the scarce two hours of sleep she had did not help because her brain did not stop working for a second, the nightmares were too real. During the last two decades of her life, Anni-Frid became the center of everything around her, Agny worked and lived for her; that girl was the light in her eyes, but not everything was precisely light in their life. Synni was not there and that shadow would follow them both forever, Anni-Frid needed her but she could never have her, she herself needed her and despite the years she couldn't get over her departure. But she was holding onto her granddaughter. On the other hand, there was the shadow of the man who was supposed to be her father. Alfred, he left one day leaving her daughter heartbroken and pregnant. The revelation of that morning twenty years ago meant a revolution in the family; that the youngest of the Lyngstads was pregnant by a man who was supposed to be her enemy was appalling. But they overcame it, with difficulties but they did it. And now seeing Anni-Frid, Agny regretted nothing. She didn't want to know anything about Alfred and, although she might wanted to, she couldn't. However, he wasn't needed here.

Agny left the cup on the nightstand and left the bedroom, she couldn't keep putting off the inevitable, she needed to chat with her granddaughter. Anni-Frid, like her, spent the whole night locked in her room, most likely having a worse time than herself. In the end, the most affected of this whole situation was Anni-Frid.

The door was closed and no sound came from the other side. Agny turned the latch —which was surprisingly unlocked— cautiously opened it and poked her head out; the room was dimly lit, yet she could see Anni-Frid asleep in the middle of bed; her brow was slightly furrowed as were her lips, she had bags under her eyes and shaggy hair. Agny made her way across the room and took a seat next to her on the bed. It weighed on her heart to see her treasure like this. She brushed a couple of strands from her forehead and Anni-Frid shrugged, her green eyes suddenly coming to life as she woke up.

Anni-Frid felt dazed and it took a moment for her clouded mind to process the images; Agny sat next to her, looking terribly sleepless, most likely just as she did. All night she did nothing but cry until got tired enough to give in to sleep. Two hours earlier she woke up to overthinking; perhaps her reaction was exaggerated, but she couldn't help it because that's how she felt and she needed to express it so as not to go crazy. Benny was a total revelation to her; he showed her new things and with him she discovered new feelings. Last night he brought pain to her unhealed wounds, but it was not his fault. Being surrounded by his family touched her deeply, reminding her about the opportunity to have her parents sitting at their table was taken away from her. What she experienced last night with the Anderssons was nice until Laila made that comment, until memories betrayed her. Still, she couldn't live permanently in the shadow of her bitter memories, today was a new day and even though getting up was hard, she had to get on with her life. Agny was right— knowing the truth about her roots would not change anything, and maybe it was better not to know because she might find something that would change her indeed, but negatively. She was strong but also knew that, if there was bad news about her parents, she would rather not hear. Better stay with the illusion.

Anni-Frid stretched and the blanket slipped a little. She sighed wearily and, still lying down, turned to Agny. "Hello," said sheepishly. She hated arguing with her grandmother. Although last night was not an argument as such, she certainly felt guilty.

"Hello, honey," Agny gave her a small, sad smile. "How you feel?"

It was not a routine question, although in reality Agny always worried about how she was doing, but Agny wanted to know how she felt today in the midst of the chaos of her mind. Anni-Frid had to open up if she wanted to heal. "I'm so tired," she answered in a whisper. "And confused, and sorry."