Who I Want to Be

Anna's Worry

"Ah, no worries. No, I'm hoping to next year, though."

"Fair." Tobias shuffles next to me. Slowly, he straightens his legs, then rises to his feet.

"I should probably get going." My stomach sinks a little. Tobias flashes me one last grin.

"Okay. I understand. See you tomorrow."

"Yep," he replies effortlessly. "See you." After he walks away, I open my notebook back up. Words still don't come, but the desire for them is stronger than ever. Instead, I flip to the blank pages at the end, and doodle for the rest of the period. All I seem to draw, though, are hearts and smiling girls.

*****

I return to the cave after avoiding it for days. The forest is darker than I remember; in its silence, any sound reverberates enormously. The crackling of leaves beneath my feet or the cold breeze rustling nearby bushes - they echo and reflect relentlessly. Colours echo loudly too - vibrant and brilliant and grotesque against the empty night. Everything becomes eerily unsettling. I keep my glance forward, square on the growing cavernous shape.

Azi is resting by the entrance, hands clasped over her lap. When she sees me her face brightens, her body illuminates a circle around her. Small patches of grass and mud pronounce that they are finally found, exhilarated by the spotlight. I, on the underhand, feel abruptly tired, slowly backing away.

Gabrielle. We have all missed you. Azi walks up and embraces me. Where have you been? Her voice tickles my left ear. I don't resist her warmth, but pull it closer to me, wrapping my arms around her like I'm suddenly afraid to lose her.

"I'm sorry," I croak out. "I'm so so sorry for what I said last time." Azi pets my head.

Hush now. There is no reason to apologize. You did nothing wrong, I just needed time. She pulls me back and faces me. I'm sure you needed time to grieve after the loss of your mother too, right? I nod and Azalea smiles approvingly. Then you understand. Everything inside me seems to calm down, and I want more of this feeling. I begin to walk towards the cavern, but Azalea's strong grip on my arm holds me back. I look up at her. Her eyes hold an unsettling, undefinable gaze.

"Azi?" She smiles with sorrow.

I need you to do me a favour, Gabrielle dear. Her hand lets my arm loose and trails down to my hand. There, her thumb presses into my palm before letting go. My hand falls to my side like a leaf in the woods - silent, lifeless. And in this dark woods, Azi's light becomes everything.

"What is it?" The silence is only disturbed by my beating heart. A rhythmic drum that has me shuddering.

I fear that Lily and Aster may not be so willing to accept reality. That Jen has passed on. Azalea sighs, recalling things I cannot fathom. They are much younger than I, and less learned. I want to protect them from such sorrow. With every breath her light reaches and recedes; a tide to which Azi is the moon. I fear it may break them.

A gentle tear escapes her left eye and trails down her cheek. It reflects her light so that it looks like delicate glass. And so does Azi; I fear if I touched her, she may shatter in the same manner I once thought my mother would. So please, don't mention Jen's fate. The single tear has reached her chin. It hangs like an icicle before diving into the pool of light. Then it is lost to the moss on the ground, where it shall sink into the earth and the soil.

"I understand." Perhaps I don't, but I want to. I want to know, to grasp their sorrow, to not fall behind but see ahead. And I definitely do not want to hurt anyone. No more broken hearts, please.

Thank you so much, Gabrielle. Azi's grateful smile melts all the ice inside me. Come, let us go in together. We have all been wanting to talk with you again. I do not resist as Azalea takes my hand and leads me forward, into the darkening cave. Despite it being a cold night, I feel so incredibly warm.

*****

When I return home at dawn, I sneak through the back entrance. This time, though, the kitchen light is on. Anna sits at the table, eyes squared on me. I stop in the doorway and freeze. As the door swings shut it hits me in the back.

"Where have you been?" Anna frowns at me. I have no words. Instead I stutter beneath her glare. "I was worried sick." Her voice is choppy; her bottom lip quivers. The warmth I felt just a short while ago quickly evaporates. Now I am shivering cold.

"I'm sorry." That seems to be the only thing I can say.

"Jesus, Gabrielle, where have you been!" Her raised voice shakes the house.

"I'm sorry, I really am." Tears escape me and I have no idea why. Yet, they continue to flow.

"I'm trying so hard, Gabby. So. Hard." Anna is crying too: big, blue tears. They trail down her face and soak her freckled cheeks.

What am I supposed to say to her? I don't know, I never know. Instead, I just keep apologizing, and both our tears keep flowing. Eventually, Anna lifts her hand up from the table, revealing a worn book beneath. It has a red leather cover, and a name tag stuck on the front.

"You know," Anna begins, pulling the book onto her lap. "I've seen this behavior before." She points to a chair across the table. "Please, sit." Cautiously, I take a seat in the chair. My whole body is vigorously shaking. The sunlight leaking in through the windows gives an eerie air of twilight - of sinister and macabre. "With Jennifer. Your mother." A wave of unsettlement washes over me. "Leaving for whole nights, exhaustion, sorrow, I've seen it all before." Anna looks down at the book and gently brushes it with her hand. "But I was young and stupid, so I didn't do anything about it." The universe goes silent as Anna turns back up and meets my nervous gaze. An empty, anticipating vacuum of nothingness.

"I am not going to let that happen to you." I freeze with my mouth glued shut, my eyes locked on her. Anna sighs, then smiles sadly, then nods her head. "I promise," she declares, "on my life." Stuck to my seat, I watch her rise then walk over to me. She reaches out her hand with the book like an offering. "Take this. It was your mother's diary." I can now see my mother's signature messily scribbled onto the name tag. "I think you should read it." After a moment of hesitation, I take the notebook from her grasp. It is surprisingly light and soft. I turn to a random page, which is filled with her writing. It overwhelms me, so I quickly shut it.

"Thanks," is all that comes out.

"Alright then. Go to bed." Anna points to the clock. "I want you to go get some rest. I'll call in to say you're sick, then drive you in for the afternoon. Luckily it's my day off."

"Okay," I respond, before leaving and walking up to my room. I hold onto my mother's diary tight. Despite the temptation, and despite Anna's request, I will not read it. The words scribbled on there, the words my mother wrote, would hurt too much - they would gouge me out. Instead I bury it in my sock drawer, where it will remain for as long as possible.

I shut the blinds and fall into bed. But I cannot sleep. My mind is too busy imagining all the stories inside those pages. All the parts of my mother that I never knew, scribbled then promptly forgotten. Right there, in my room, lies proof of who my mother was - not who I always thought she was. That scares me. That terrifies me. I shut my eyes. Only in the darkness can I create my whole world. And that is exactly what I do, until Anna knocks because it is time to go. I create this world where I am loved, where I am beautiful, where my mother is alive and exactly who I thought she was. This perfect, incredible existance. My dream world.

I pray it never ends.