The story with no beginning.

It is strange. Everything feels so familiar, as if you were in a room that you thought you dreamed about.

It tastes acidic, like deja vu.

It churns into the back of your mind, a slight buzzing of what has been locked away.

And Kate finds out that she is stuck in a position where she couldn't exactly move to do anything. Not at all, actually. Maybe it was the feeling of voidness in her stomach, or rather the way her head turned so fast in that direction, wind blowing in her face. Her fingers slightly ached from the cold, but not in a neccessarily bad way, just as ice burns you. And, oh boy, how she hated the gasp that went past her velvety lips. Because she has never thought that she'd ever see it again. Or clapse it in her hands so tightly that she could actually feel it.

A memory that has been so easily forgotten and replaced that it hurt somewhere in her chest, near her heavy heart.