Recognition of a Memory

Do you know who that girl is? Yes, the one over there.

Her soft hands hang limply by her side. Tears slide slowly down her face as soft sobs racked through her body. Her face, pale as a sheet, is framed by a mass of wiry black hair. Slamming the door shut, she shuffles into the dimly lit room, stumbling slightly over the objects that lay scattered about the room.

Books lie in a heap by the dusty table. Bags are thrown haphazardly across the floor. Torn and crinkled sheets of paper are strewn everywhere. By the unmade, light blue bed are pieces of used, torn tissues, lying in a massive heap. An open first aid kit peeked out from under the bed, white bandages tumbling out. An ebony photo frame lay on the floor, broken and shattered.

Amidst the sparkling glass sat the glossy paper of an old memory. Memories of a beautiful autumn breeze whistling through the air and making leaves dance upon the glistening lake. The soft waft of freshly baked apple pie would waltz through the wooden cottage. Damp morning dew glistened in the early sunrise. These memories captured the very essence of beauty, love and peace, shown with the faces of two smiling people. The smiling faces of you and me in the memory.

You, with your eyes dancing full of life, had the biggest grin on your face. I, with my silky raven hair blowing in the wind, didn’t have a care in the world. The soft creases of your face bring out your warm chocolate eyes, contrasting with the sapphire blue lake. Leaves float around the cottage before landing smoothly into the calm water, tracing the rays of sunlight. This memory of beauty, love and peace now resides in a shattered frame of loss, hate and pain.

That was the old me. The new me is someone I barely know. The girl that’s crying in the corner of the dark and dusty room, covered in bruises, cuts and scars seems to be completely different. Her sunken, gaunt face is buried between her knees. She hugs herself tightly with her frail arms, trying to protect herself … hold herself together. Her face is twisted in pain, mouth hanging open with a silent cry of agony. Her eyes are begging out for help.

Now do you recognise her? Do you know who that girl is?