The Girl With Lost Memories - Parts 1 & 2 (An OUAT Fanfiction)

𝒞𝒽𝒶𝓅𝓉𝑒𝓇 1: 𝑅𝑒𝓈𝒸𝓊𝑒 𝑀𝑒

𝐸𝓂𝑒𝓇𝓈𝑜𝓃, 𝒩𝑒𝓌 𝒥𝑒𝓇𝓈𝑒𝓎

𝒫𝓇𝑒𝓈𝑒𝓃𝓉 𝒟𝒶𝓎

Floating through life like a feather with no clear destination is me every day. Life is my wind. This sensation—whatever it is—is something everyone goes through. At least, I hope. I don't want to be the only one stuck in this position. For now.

There're two more years to slog through.

Today I have to keep pretending I'm at school. So far, so good. Curt and Diane don't suspect a thing. I suppose I could go to the record shop again. Mama likes me. People who do are uncommon around here.

"Not it!" Max and Chrys holler from the living room, making me lose the pillow feather I've been blowing.

"Bella, get the door," Agatha bellows.

I reach for my phone. It's six twenty-five.

I roll out of bed, even though I didn't hear the obnoxious doorbell like they did. It must have been a knock, but who could be at the door this early in the morning?

Agatha sits on the couch, and Chrys and Max play checkers on the coffee table when I enter the living room. Not sure what they're waiting for. They're the ones who have to go to school.

"None of you could get the door?" I say in the archway.

"It's too far," Agatha says while on her phone, waving me off.

"And we're busy," Max says.

Agatha crosses her legs. "That's why we have 'Not It.'"

I hate that game. And, yes, it's because I always lose. The dumb chimes attached to the doorbell throw me off. I'm too busy covering my ears or flinching to touch my nose and yell, "Not it."

There's no light outside, except for the slight brightening of the purple-black sky. No stars. No moon. Just webs of clouds.

I call, "Thank you," to the mailman as he walks back to his truck. He doesn't turn. Instead, he starts the vehicle and drives away. Another person floating through life. At least he gets paid. I wish I got money for being a feather.

"It's a package," I say into the house, looking at the cardboard box on the stoop.

"That's mine." Agatha darts over and shoves me into the doorbell chimes. I don't dare say anything as she bends to pick up her delivery.

"What is it?" Chrys asks, wonderstruck, when Agatha goes inside with the box.

"Nothing that concerns you."

"Leave her alone," I say, pushing the door shut.

Agatha moves for the kitchen but turns around with a mischievous grin and says, "Go to your room."

I angle my ear toward her. "Excuse me? You can't tell me to go to my—"

"I just did." I want to hit her. If Chrys and Max weren't here, I probably would.

I suck in a breath because she thinks she's the dictator of this lousy household. "Just because I'm a year younger than you, doesn't mean you have authority over—"

"Should I call Curt and Diane and tell them how you're acting up..." she lowers her head to intimidate me, "again?"

My cheeks burn, and I keep silent. Anything... Anything but that.

"I didn't think so."

My jaw tightens until my teeth grind into each other. Any harder, they'll chip. The fire crackling clicks in my ears as Agatha stares me down. With a stomp, I march back to my room and slam the door. Two of my jackets fall off the hook. I don't bother picking them up. It's best to let them join their friends on the musky carpeting.