The Ghost of Our Past (ON HOLD)

Remember

She didn’t disappoint anyone. Kiera crumpled into a shrieking and shaking wreck, kicking and clawing at approaching staff. Some patients continued on, oblivious. Some started crying themselves and balled up, rocking their body. Some cheered and laughed.

She heard herself moan out words but she couldn’t remember what she said. She grabbed the volunteer’s arms, saw the fear in his eyes and spat in his face. He reeled back and allowed the doctor to push forward with assistants.

A sharp pain caused Kiera to thrash more violently but her mind started to feel groggy. As she lay there, surrounded by people like in her nightmares, Kiera opened her eyes once more and saw the woman with brown hair standing a bit further. Her face had shock all over it, mixed with sympathy and disgust. 

The months spent in the institution felt like everything good was sucked out of her, left with skin and bones, despair and grief. That night, it was gone for a while.

Kiera lay on the bed, her breathing in a regular pace. Drugs had that effect. They take away the waves of terror, discomfort and loneliness that made it difficult for Kiera to sleep. Lulled by the calm, Kiera allowed herself to remember.

 Remember. Her aunt’s pinched expression as she tried to understand soap operas. The taste of chocolate cookies her cousin sneaked in for her. The way her uncle ate his pancakes, drowned in enough syrup to give  her aunt have a heart attack. The scent of soap of her blankets when she buried her face in them. The games she played with Greta…

Greta.

 Kiera was always envious of Greta. Greta was a beautiful child. She had locks of golden that caught the sunlight and a smooth white complexion. Her eyes were green though, just like Kiera’s imaginary woman but they were round with long eyelashes. Kiera’s imaginary woman had eyes shaped in almonds with short, almost non-existent eyelashes.

But wasn’t Greta a figment of Kiera’s imagination too? Kiera smiled sleepily, her emotions numb. How was it that she remembered such details? She asked herself, amused. I’m crazy. Mad. Madder than the Hatter.

Kiera wondered whether Greta was doing well without her. Who was going to play with her? Make sure she stays off the road? Hide her from her mother? Kiera started to shift under her covers restlessly. Despite the drugs, worry started churning her insides and clawed at her heart.

Enough.

Enough.

Greta does not exist. Greta was a playmate she made up. Greta made her into this. Greta did not deserve any sympathy.  Kiera sat up, sobbing. She looked at the wall, saw her aunt, uncle, cousin, Fabian, doctors, nurses, the volunteer.

“When you say that someone doesn’t exist, it doesn’t mean that the person doesn’t.” She told them. The lady with brown hair and green eyes emerged and loomed over Kiera, a sympathetic smile laying on her lips.

“Well, dear. How was the meeting with that nasty young lady? In my time, no respectable lady would have worn such fitting skirts,” she snorted. Kiera blinked, feeling the familiar rise of panic in her chest. She tucked her head into her arms. Please, please go away, she wanted to cry out. Go away!

“Kiera darling. Are you feeling well? Is it the food again? They have the most awful cooks. I kept telling them but they just smile. Mad mad mad people we have here.”

Think of something else!

            “What are you looking at?” Kiera remembered her cousin’s clear brown eyes looking straight in hers. Her eyes, she imagined, looked weary and frightened. Old compared to the four-year-old. None of the beautiful hopefulness and curiosity the brown eyes were filled with. Kiera had turned her head away, concentrating on the book lying on her lap. The tree behind them cast shadows and the shadows danced as the wind blew through the leaves.

            “Nothing.”

            “You were looking at something,” he whined, insistent. His legs dangled from the worn-down bench he was sharing with her. A shoe slipped off a foot and flew in a short arch in the air before rolling onto the grass. He whined again and tugged her sleeve. His bottom lip stuck out, eyes watery like it was Kiera’s fault the shoe came off.

           Kiera closed the book, reached for the shoe. A hand closed around it before hers. Its owner put it on the child’s foot, pulling the strap with an amicable smile. Curly brown hair framed an oval-shaped face with features that don’t match. Eyes unevenly lined, nose too big, mouth small and constantly pursed. Kiera’s cousin sniffed.

            “Thank you,” Kiera whispered. The lady gave her another gentle smile which lit up her dull face. She didn’t say anything about the quick fear in Kiera’s eyes nor made a comment on the way the tall girl left, her hand so tightly wrapped around the child’s hand until he squealed in anger and pain and was steadily ignored.

      The lady never understood. Perhaps, she reasoned with herself, that girl was afraid of strangers. But the truth was darker and difficult to comprehend.

      The image of the green grass and blue clouds shifted to a red brick wall and a delated basketball. Fabian tossed the useless basketball to Kiera.

            “Tell me, Kiera. Maybe I can help you. What are you afraid of?”

            “Nothing.”

            “It’s very difficult to believe you. I see the way you walk. The way you keep your head down.”

            “Maybe I just don’t want to meet anyone.” Defiance. Anger. She felt it simmer in her body. One day, she will erupt.

            Fabian can see that. He stopped asking but the cracks were beginning to appear in their friendship. The cracks never mended and it will never be mended especially after Kiera told h-

            Kiera let out a soft sob. The effects of the drugs were quickly wearing off and her chest tighten. Don't do that to yourself, she pleaded to herself. You do not belong to their life anymore. Squeezing her eyes tightly, Kiera counted to 501 before difting to sleep uneasily.