Operation: Threads of Connection

one step at a time

Anya's POV:

In my dreams I see him. I see a dark haired boy, his eyes a light hazel color, his lashes long, enhancing his eyes even more. His smile was contagious, it was like a ray of pureness, who was he? and why does he appear so frequently in my dreams?

"Anya, honey, it's time for you to wake up," a soft voice spoke. I slowly began to open my eyes, crouching by the bed was mama, her smile full of warmth. I began sitting up, stretching my arms as I gave her a smile back.

"Thank you, I will try to do better in waking up by myself," I said embarrassed. Did the old Anya wake herself up without worrying her parents? So many questions I ask myself everyday. Ever since I lost my memory, it feels like I'm trying my best to meet everyone's expectations. But is that truly who I am?

"No need to apologize sweetie, today is your first day back, so let's make sure we have enough time to get you situated," Mama replied as she began standing up. Her stomach had a very noticeable bump, I was still not used to seeing her pregnant. Apparently she was having twins, I realized that I was going to be an older sister. Regardless if I regain my memory or not, it wouldn't matter to my siblings, they never met the old Anya...

"Yes, of course, let me start getting ready!" I said as I began making my way to the bathroom. I looked in the mirror, my face looked like me? but at the same time, it didn't feel like it was my face... I began applying a thin layer of foundation, trying to mask the uncertainty I felt. I applied some mascara and applied a bit of lip gloss. Content with my makeup, I proceeded to comb my hair, I decided to do a sideways loosely braid, letting a few strands fall naturally around my face. It felt both strange and familiar, like a shadow of a routine I used to follow. Once satisfied, I took a deep breath and exited the bathroom, heading back to my room to put on my school uniform.

As I adjusted my tie in the mirror, I couldn't help but feel a sense of disconnection. The uniform felt like a costume, something that belonged to the old Anya, not the person I was now. On my vanity there was a headband, it had a pair of little horns on each side. I picked up the accessory, looking at it carefully. Based of all of the pictures I had around my room, I know I used to wear these all day, everyday... but right now, I don't seem to have the urge to put it on... I sighed before gently placing the accessory back on the vanity. I grabbed my backpack and made my way downstairs, the sound of my shoes echoing softly on the wooden steps.

In the kitchen, Mama was preparing breakfast. The scent of scrambled eggs and bacon filled the room, and I could hear the sizzle of the frying pan. Papa was already seated at the table, sipping his coffee and reading the newspaper. He looked up as I entered. His eyes widened for a second, before he quickly clearing his throat, giving me a warm smile.

"Good morning, Anya. Ready for your first day back at school?" Papa asked, folding the newspaper and setting it aside. Every day since the accident has been a struggle to piece together who I was and who I am now. The doctors said my memory might never fully return, but I can't help but hope that it will.

"I think so," I replied, though I wasn't entirely sure. The idea of returning to school was daunting. Would my friends recognize me? Would they treat me the same? The questions swirled in my mind as I nibbled on a piece of toast.

Mama placed a plate of food in front of me and kissed my forehead. "You'll do great, sweetheart. Just remember to take it one step at a time."

I nodded, giving Mama a smile. She was truly so kind, memories or not, I know she has been and always will be a great mother to me.

With breakfast finished, papa insisted he drive me to school. I agreed only because I had no idea where I was going. He has mentioned that some of my friends would be waiting for me at the entrance. entrance. The drive to school was quiet, the scenery passing by in a blur. My heart pounded as we approached the gates of Eden Academy. The building loomed to the prestigious reputation it held. Do I attend this school? Was I actually smart?