Hidden Past

Chapter 6

I stare at the cardboard boxes in front of me, where am i supposed to start? 

My mind is still working in the background trying to figure out who Freyja and why the figure said it was me. 

I press play on my stereo and a Bastille song blares through the speakers. I turn it up, grabbing a box and walking over to my wall. Slowly, i prise off each photo of the collage and place them in a plastic wallet. As i pull each photo off, my eyes swim with more tears and my fingers brush the photos as sparks of each memory reappears in my eyes. 

My first shopping trip with Natasha when i was seven. 

Shooting arrows with Clint when i was ten. 

Me as a baby, trying to bite into Steve's shield. 

Me as a baby, dripping paint on Tony. 

Me last week fighting with Uncle Thor. 

I place each into the folder and soon the wall is empty. I hate emptiness, it leaves things to be filled by anything. I pick up one of my ceramic teddy bear ornaments and wrap it in newspaper then place it in the box. I notice a white envelop on my dresser, i slowly pick it up and pull back the flap. New glossy photos are inside, from the beach two days ago. There's a photo of me in Steve's leather jacket, my name in the sand, all of us sat on the stone wall, me with ice cream on my face, me sticking my ice cream on Uncle Thor's nose and Thor chasing me across the sand. I smile as the recent memory is pushed forward in my mind and i carefully place it in one of the boxes. 

I place my birthday snowglobes in the box, wrapped in newspaper and my photo frames. I notice a photo of me as a baby in someone's arms, but they've been cut off. I place it in the box anyway and then tape it shut. 

Someone knocks on the door, but its fully open anyway. I quickly pause my stereo on a Pink song, I glance up and see Mr Livingston, dressed in his usual suit and his glasses pushed up the bridge of his nose. 

"Oh, sorry, Im late. Didn't notice the time, sorry Mr L." I mumble. 

I grab the plastic black box containing all my school work and walk up to the door. 

"That's fine, Hattie." 

I close the door behind me and follow him down the numerous corridors to the room we use for lessons. 

I learn how to make a cumulative frequency graph and how to find the mode from numbers. 

Then, in History i learn about the treaty of Versialle and Germanys reaction.

* 

Im exhausted when we finish, throwing down my pen and stretching my aching fingers. Mr Livingston smiles at me, collects my essay titled "Was the Treaty Of Versialle too harsh?". He then hands me a gold star, i smile thankfully as i stick it on my t-shirt. 

I grab my box and carry it back to my room. I notice my bedroom door is already open and i gently push it open fully. I gasp. 

My room looks like its been turned upside down, paper is thrown everywhere, my laptop is smashed and a few of my photos are scattered across the floor. 

I pull out my phone, dialing my Uncle. 

"Someone has been in my room and smashed everything." I quickly announce. 

"On my way." 

I put down the phone and place my work box on the floor. I stay in the doorway, staring at my destroyed room. 

My clothes are screwed up on the floor, curtains are torn down and my bed is messed up with the sheets thrown off. 

"Im sorry, Harriet." My Uncle whispers from behind me.