Running From Truth

Numero 1- Rocking Horse

My body rocks back and forth, my head and back lightly tapping against the cold stonewall. I stare into the dark abyss of nowhere and barely listen to the silent cries and prayers surrounding me.                                                            "I'm not a monster, not a monster, not a monster." I whisper repeatedly, that's all I can do, all I can do to help them, persuade myself. 
But, who are they?  
It bangs side to side in my empty brain. 
My memories, where are they? I know I should know where we are, who they are and who I am.

There's a misty feeling about here, the certain feeling of familiarness.                                                        It’s dangerous here, very dangerous. I know. Anyone could know. 
The way the darkness creeps upon my skin, the tattered clothes and scars I bear, how everything makes an eerie echo. Everything’s gone, I’m completely useless without my memory, and I know that it wasn’t taken away naturally… but by something magical. I know that I’m not a normal teenage girl, I’m important but useless. A cold feeling, mixed thoughts, warmth spreads throughout my body. 
Small, quiet voices screeching throughout my thoughts, warning me. Calling for me to come from them. I’ve slipped into a nightmare.

I grasp out to catch the flinging memories that are playing and replaying inside my brain. None I can catch, none want to be remembered again. Except for one. My name is Myra, that’s all I know. Myra Arrow. That thought burns inside of my brain, failing to fade. How come no other memories or names or even words couldn’t I catch, hold within my grasp? I sit there for ages, banging my head against the cold stonewall, hoping that something would find it’s way into my brain. I hear breaths, I know I’m not alone. No one will speak, I can sense the fear everyone has within their bodies. Everyone scared to speak, scared to help, scared to remember. They are family, or close. I can feel their looks scarred on my back, maybe I’m a family member of theirs. Or maybe they’re just afraid of me.

Something glowing catches my eyes, I look down and fear burns throughout my body. I jump up, my first physical move in around a month, I scream, the only talking I've done that doesn't sound crazy. The light blooms up the dark cell-like thing that I've been calling home for a past month. I scan the cell-like thing that I’ve been living in.

Faces.

Faces of guys and faces of girls.

2 babies are cuddled up in peoples arms, the babies barely look alive. A little girl from what I can see is around 5 years old, and a mark of a rose across her neck stands up and looks at me, relief, an emotion of love, thrill and excitement bulge within her big green eyes. Thin brown hair, reaching the tip of her shoulders. She’s beautiful, something snaps inside of my brain.                                                 'Zita Rose.' A voice whispers into my ear, that's the beautiful little girls name. 
My heart throbs, as if she was an important thing to me. The guy behind her holding her hand back, is strikingly handsome, dark brown curly hair and a smile with two dimples can be seen. My heart beats faster and my legs grow weak. 
Another key to my past, I have a feeling he is just as important to me as the young girl is. He looks at me as with hesitation, and longing as if you were looking at someone that you love. Love, I have a feeling that everyone of these faces are belong to someone that I most dearly care for and love.                                                                                                                            "Mummy!" She screams at me. 
My world stops, mummy. 
The girl is mine.

"Let her go." I gently say to the handsome guy behind her, he looks at me and smiles wider. His hand slips off her wrist and she runs into my arms. She digs her head into my shoulder, her arms wrap around me tightly as if I mean the world to her.