Fragmented

Chapter Eight

!!Quick update!!

Agnes' best friend is called Lina!

Agnes is 16 and 11 months old!

Enjoy xx

It was never about the money. At least, that's what they told her. It had nothing to do with her wanting a new piercing. She was not being punished, they said. It would be healthy to experience life in a different setting. To be challenged in an environment diverging from an otherwise comfortable life with the usual luxurious accommodations.

Why Austria? Agnes could never quite decode their definitive keenness for this country. What was here, which could not be found in Britain? At least they would have been closer to friends and family, had they settled for Scotland or Wales. And of course, they would be able to understand people. Austria seemed to have them transfixed. Nothing she said could have ever changed their course. Agnes knew there was more to the story. An upheaval of these proportions was too critical to be based on a longing for a more sustainable lifestyle or even their alleged taste for adventure.

She did not know what she wanted from them.

A reason.

A good enough reason for them to leave behind everything that had made up their life as a family over the past seventeen years. Agnes did not know that any reason in the world could possibly be that good, but it had to exist. Otherwise she did not believe she would ever be able to forgive her parents.

Agnes left her bed a mess and went outside. She did not know where she was going or even what time it was. She just needed to walk. Move. Not be still.

Everything felt so quiet. Had it not been for the many insects wafting in the dry air and birds chirping, she would have thought time had stopped.

Agnes wondered about time for a while.

Was it limited? Would it ever run out? How many seconds, hours, years, centuries would they have left? Was there a big timer somewhere, counting down the seconds until judgement day? Was that still a thing? Did people still believe?

She felt cut off from the rest of the world. She had no idea if they were planning a sequel to her favourite film. She wondered if her celebrity crush was still hanging out with the model she did not like. Somehow, Agnes felt like decades had passed since she last talked to a person who knew her. Because her parents did not. Not really. If they had, they would have never forced this life upon her. Her best friend Lina knew who she was... Didn't she?

She had once. But was that person still Agnes?

She found herself under the big tree from which she had picked her father's beloved apples. The shade was a comfort. She grabbed handfuls of the arid grass and built a small pile. It made her think of how she and Lina would play with their dolls outside and find things to make the play even more realistic. A bed of moss. The house was a secret hideout in the forest. Their food consisted of edible beech leaves and wild berries. It was a wonderful freedom to feel ownership of it. They were in charge. They decided what happened next. No unpleasant surprises.

Now, that seemed like another life. Mere months had passed and Agnes could no longer recall the pattern on the bathroom tiles back home. Suddenly, all she could fit in her mind was the inordinate need to remember the curlicues on those white tiles. Her memory blurred and all she could elicit was bright red and yellow patches with black dots and white stars when she squeezed her eyes so tight her eyeballs burned. Once she opened them again, it took a while for her to gain perspective. Her palms hurt from her fingernails boring into them.