There comes a point in life where we all forget something.
Memories.
Dreams.
Whatever it may be.
But for me, well, it's a little different.
Imagine doing something, okay, something great, huge, fantastic.
Now imagine all that being wiped away until there is nothing left.
Your brain knows that something is supposed to be there, but it is, instead, endlessly clawing at empty space.
Something that's always at the tip of your tongue, ready to spill out, yet, you don't know what it is.
That's how my life is right now.
Well, that's how my life has been ever since I woke up.
You see, two weeks ago, I woke up in a hospital with half of my memories gone. Three whole months of my life, wiped away as if there was nothing there to begin with. I was left, helplessly floundering in the depths of my amnesia.
Apparently, I had disappeared from a mental hospital from when I was placed there shortly after my mother died. But I don't remember any of it.
Small, broken memories, sometimes reaching the surface before sinking into its depths again and again. It was frustrating to say the least.
There is this song that, for once, I remember listening to, when I was still lived back home, before my life was turned completely upside down.
I wish I could wake up with amnesia.
and forget about the stupid little things
Well, now, I wish I could wake up without amnesia.
That once again, my life could finally make sense. That I wasn't stuck living at my aunt's house anymore, stuck trying to not be offended every time she looked at me like I was a piece of dirt that somehow managed to find herself in possession of.
If my life were Harry Potter, she would be Petunia Dursley.
Aunt Marge had thin, graying brown hair that she always pulled back in a tight bun, successfully revealing her receding hairline. Her eyes were a dark, beady brown, that seemed to bulge out of their eye sockets, giving her a strange resemblance to a pug.
She hated my mother for reasons I never understood, therefore, hating me even more, believing me to be the devil's spawn.
The day after I was discharged from the hospital, she appeared at the door, her lumpy body squeezed into a too-tight floral dress, giving me the distinct impression of a piece of play-doh stuck in a tube stock. Her dark eyes alighted on me in sinister hatred. Her thin, top lip curled in disgust.
"C'mon girl, I don't wanna' stay here longer than I have to." With that, she turned on her heel and stomped outside. Leaving me to clumsily gather my meager belongings and follow after, tripping on one foot in the process. By the time I had exited the room, Aunt Marge was already at the end of the hall. Motioning me to hurry up with a stubby hand.
She smelt like used cat litter, a smell that I began to become far too acquainted with every time she would pull me into a tight, strangling hug, to prove to the doctors that she was happy to see me again.
I was more than happy when we finally managed to get out of the hospital, and she immediately dropped the tight, fake smile that had been tackily pasted on her lips for the past hour.
"Let's go, I don't want to waste anymore money on you." And so, we traveled the couple of hours until arriving in Conway Springs, Kansas.
A place I had never wanted to visit again.
Conway Springs was a sleepy town of approximately 1,000, lying on the border between Kansas and Oklahoma. I didn't have anything particularly against Conway Springs.
Just one certain person who lived there.
Aunt Marge's house was about in the same condition as her feet.
Which was to say, old and stinky. Due to the 6 cats that constantly hung around the premises, the porch was littered with day-old, curdled milk and cat food. And a putrid smell wafted out from somewhere underneath the building, to be honest, I was afraid to even ask.
The door creaked open loudly, and my aunt entered, the wind chimes hanging above us shaking with the force of her footsteps.
"You get Carly's old room," she said, pointing vaguely down the hallway. I shuddered, if Aunt Marge was Petunia, Carly would be Dudley. Thankfully though, Carly had eloped exactly 3 months ago, leaving her room and all of her useless belongings in it. Which was a bonus for me, since I didn't have to sleep on the couch this time, as well as endure her too strong, vanilla scented perfume every morning.
Unfortunately though, Carly had a strange infatuation with the color pink. The walls in her bedroom were splashed in cringe-worthy magenta, which matched the worn comforter that lay across the small twin bed that sat in the corner. Even the closet door was not spared from Carly's pink wrath, and was decorated with tacky purple and pink flowers that smiled at me evilly.
"Oh no," I managed, feeling my knees weaken at the sight, "this won't do at all." My eyes slowly drifted upward and I gagged. Plastered on her ceiling, were about twenty Twilight and Justin Bieber posters, each littered with lipstick stains on various compromising places.
I took a deep breath, setting down my nearly empty backpack on the bed, cringing when I realized that this also contained a blown-up version of Justin Bieber's face on it, and standing up on a chair that I had unearthed from a mountain of clothing in the closet.
It took about 30 minutes, but I finally managed to take down all the posters, stuffing them in the already overflowing trashcan, and then began working on the rest of the room.
Thankfully, with Carly's abrupt departure, she had left many of the clothes she had deemed 'insufficient', which included, to my extreme pleasure, a few large, flannel shirts and sweats. As well as a soft hoody, which was also too big for me, considering the fact that Carly likened to her mother in many aspects.
I had been honestly surprised when Aunt Marge had told me that her daughter had run off with a man, not just because I had expected Carly to demand a large, overpriced wedding. But also because I wondered who, in their right mind, would be able to spend more than a few minutes with her.
I had finally dismissed it as a Christmas miracle, even though Christmas was still three months away.
A small meow, broke me out of my reverie.
A cat?
How could a cat survive in here?
The small plea filled the air again, and I swiveled around on my heel, searching for the source. It was finally found under the bed, hidden under a pile of dirty clothes. Large, blue eyes peered at me through the darkness.
"Hey there," I whispered as the kitten retreated back to its shelter, "I'm not gonna' hurt you." I reached under, gently coaxing the small creature out of hiding. Picking up its small body in my arms, I held it against my chest, hugging it.
"You don't like it here either, huh?" I cooed, stroking its soft, gray fur, "We should be friends." The kitten mewled in response, purring loudly in my arms.
"You need a name then, if we're gonna' be friends," I whispered to it, placing him on the bed, watching him scamper playfully across the sheets, "You kind of look like a Charles to me, how do you feel about that?"
The kitten seemed to show no signs of listening to my musings, which was oddly relieving considering the fact that I was speaking to an animal, having instead, caught sight of a small circle of light that was being reflected onto the wall. It reared up, his small hindquarters sticking in the air, his tail flicking slightly, before pouncing.
However, his jump brought him a little too close, and he slammed into the wall, then losing his balance and falling into the crack between the wall and the bed.
"Yep," I answered for myself, reaching down and scooping him up easily with one hand, "Charles it is."
GUYS
GUYS
IT HAS HAPPENED, MAGNIFICENT, HAPPY BIRTHDAY
OKAY OKAY, THIS IS THE SEQUEL TO 'WHERE IT ALL BEGAN' AND IF YOU HAVEN'T YET READ THAT, I SUGGEST GIVING IT A LOOK.
I think it's about time for me to stop yelling at you all.. But I'm excited, don't judge.
ANYWHO.
What think ye? Including the various HP references I put in there.. hehe.
Are you ready for this? I'm going to try and make it less confusing then the previous book, so there we go :)
ALSO
I really want a kitten, but EVERYONE in my family is allergic to cats except me.
WHY
BUT SOMEDAY
IF YOU HAVE A CAT, WHAT'S ITS NAME-- AND IF YOU DON'T HAVE ONE, WHAT WOULD YOU NAME IT IF YOU GOT ONE?
FAREWELL
(Gif above is Charles)