Being at Dalldorf for almost a whole year, it is still necessary to call me Fraulein Unbekannt. There were still little to no evidence to my past. It was said that I was a labourer. Each time someone tries to tell me that, there were vague memories of walking in a town or a meadow. I never told anyone that. I wanted to know who I was on my own. I never told anyone my memories or thoughts. Only Truda and Miss Eva Puerhert.
Miss Eva Puerhert was very kind to me. She was the person, very dear to me, who gave me an idea as to my possible lifestyle prior to the night my life should have ended. My life was a mess. Most of the time I helped to find my identity, I B.S.ed it. Miss Eva Puerhert told me exactly who I was. Then I started getting memories of a completely different life. Sharing these precious memories with anyone would have destroyed my path. I did not even share them with my husband. Not even towards the end of my life.
I just told everyone else that I wanted to settle down and not fight the case anymore. The truth was, my identity found it's way back into my memory. If only I had not been so naive as to believe Miss Eva Puerhert. For all I know, she could have been just messing with me, pretending to be my friend. Perhaps she craved something she didn't have herself, a true identity. Perhaps she wanted attention which was something that I had seemed to have given her. Maybe she simply needed more than what this life had to offer. But within that moment, I so desperately wanted to know who I was.
I remember that night, late in 1921. Miss Eva had a whole bunch of magazines from her visitors. Each magazine had an article or two about the last Imperial Family of Russia. I always enjoyed reading them with her. We would talk and laugh about the small stories about the family. One night, she had come up to me with a confused look on her face. I asked her what the mask she wore was about. It was at that moment she had lifted a picture from one of the magazines and pointed at one of the daughters of the last Tsar. The one she had pointed to was the tallest of the daughters.
¨Do you not see a resemblance?¨ asked Miss Eva.
¨Between me and Tatiana?¨ I asked. She nodded. The next thing that rings a small bell is grabbing the magazine and running away with it. The thing that really stands out was the fact that she had the nerve to come over to me when I was in distress. Could she not see that I was frightened? Wasn't my crying enough for her to see that I wanted to be left alone?
YOU ARE READING
A Forgotten Past
Historical FictionOn a cold February night in 1920, a young woman finds herself attempting suicide, due to the feeling that she does not belong in her family. Anna felt as though no one in her family understood her. She felt as though she was looked down upon for her...
