Chapter 9
CHAPTER NINE
As soon as I entered the infirmary, Doctor Herbert sat me on a chair and made me order things low on stock. I guess my walk wasn’t as smooth as I thought it was.
The walk to Miss Sophia’s office took me way longer than normal and I was relieved to finally sit down after that short walk.
Since there are now little droplets of sweat gathered on my upper lip and my shirt clings to my back, I may have underestimated my current health.
I close my eyes for a second, Miss Sophia’s voice a distant hum in my ears. Heat trails through my body followed by a sharp stab in my right temple.
“…you alright?”
Shit.
She asked me a question. I take a deep breath and try to remember what exactly she was talking about before I zoned out. “I am fine, what was your question?”
A hint of annoyance flashes across her features but it’s gone in an instant. “I asked how you were faring, since our last meeting was rather…intense.”
A woman flashes before my eyes. Her face contorted in fear and panic, the house she is in unknown yet familiar. Her lips move, but I don’t understand what she is saying.
The throbbing in my temples intensifies, as if a knife is being pushed through my skull. I clasp my head, bending forward which only adds more pain to my back.
“What is it?”
“I…I don’t understand what she’s saying.”
Tears escape from her eyes, tracing a clear path down her sooth covered cheeks. I want to help her, but how?
“What who says?”
She falls to the ground and I do the same, my body bending in pain. She coughs so hard, her whole body shakes by the force of it. In my vision, I rush to her, my cheeks wet with my own tears.
“Tell me what you’re seeing, dear.”
“The room is burning down…and a woman sits in front of me.” I try to swallow, but my throat is bone dry. “She’s on her knees, I sit across from her. She looks so…familiar.”
My eyes burst open wide with realization. She is…
Gone.
My vision changes and I am all alone once more, in the burning room. Flames burn bright around me, destroying everything in its path. And I am burning, heat rushes through my veins as if I am the one who’s on fire.
The line between reality and the vision disappears. My body is a trembling mess choking on the toxic smoke I have inhaled.
Breathe, Maily.
That voice…
“I…can’t …”
You can. Breathe.
Easy for him to say. If even the voice of my rare dreams finds me in this nightmare reality, I must have really gone mad. Something presses on my chest, and the oxygen becomes fewer with every passing second.
I am part of you, so yes, I do feel what you’re going through.
Right. Because he is the voice from my dreams, my voice of reason. Does that mean —
This isn’t happening to you right now. So, breathe.
“Breathe, Maily.”
A female voice echoes around me and the pressure I felt before turns into hands touching my upper arms, gently shaking me to bring me back to the present time.
The smoke and fire fade away in an instant, yet I’m still burning. I don’t know what that was, but it was too real to be something that my mind created.
I blink once. Twice. My surroundings become clearer, not the hazy view caused by smoke. I’m on my knees and Miss Sophia is crouched down in front of me. “There you are,” she says softly. “Take all the time you need.”
Her face moves away out of my line of sight and I try to find my grounding as my pounding heart is in no rush to calm down. I count every breath, as it is the only thing that can currently occupy my overwhelmed mind.
“You’re safe, dear, breathe.”
When I finally feel steady enough to move, I carefully push myself up and sit back down in the worn out leather seat. Miss Sophia holds a glass of water in front of me, the condensation leaving water droplets on the exterior.
My fingers curl around it and a little bit of steam raises where my hand meets the cool surface. Guess I must be really burning up then…
I empty the glass in a matter of seconds and my aching throat burns less than before. I look up at miss Sophia. “Could I maybe get some more?”
“Of course.”
She turns away and walks over to the small fridge in the corner of her office. What the hell just happened? Miss Sophia places the glass on the coffee table between us. “There you go.”
I take a sip, but can’t hold myself back from draining the glass once more.
Miss Sophia sits down in the seat across from me and takes a moment to observe me before she starts talking. “How are you feeling?”
“I…I don’t know. I feel off. Weird.”
“Mhm, mhm,” she hums, writing down something in her notebook. “Can you tell me what just happened?”
I look up at her face that doesn’t reveal any emotion. She offers me one of her gentle smiles, patiently waiting for me to start talking.
“I was back in the room, the one from before.” I look down at my hands, my fingers fidgeting, a habit I seem to have picked up when I get nervous. “Everything was the same as before, the same walls and floor, the same furniture. The room was still burning and smoke clung to the air, but…”
I look back up at Miss Sophia and gone is the smile, instead a more serious expression is plastered on her face. “Go on, dear.”
“There was someone with me in the house, I wasn’t alone.
And although I don’t know who she is, it isn’t the first time I’ve seen her.
” I swallow audibly, my eyes following the movement of Miss Sophia putting her pen down.
“A week ago, I believe, I had one of these visions. I was in the library and out of nowhere I was in the room again, but she was there too.”
I look out the window. Small snowflakes fall from the sky. “I know her, this woman, I think she is someone from my past, but I can’t remember a name and I don’t know what relation we might have.”
Miss Sophia closes her notebook. “Maybe we should —”
“She might have been my neighbor or a family friend, or…”
Family.
And like pieces of a puzzle falling into place, I know who she is. Notice the same up tilted nose and full lips, the same face structure. She could be an aunt, but deep down I know our bond was much closer than that “She is…she is my mother, isn’t she, Miss Sophia?”
She stands up and walks over to the tall cupboard where she keeps most of her files.
“I don’t know who you saw in your head Maily, and we don’t have much information about your life before you arrived here, but…
” she opens up a thick folder and holds a square piece of paper.
“You had this on you when you were standing on our doorstep five years ago.”
My fingers tremble as I reach out and take the piece of paper.
It is a picture, and the woman is smiling at the person behind the camera, she looks happy.
Carefree. And although she looks a little younger in the picture and isn’t covered in soot, it is unmistakably her.
I turn the picture around and notice there’s something written on the back in neat and elegant handwriting.
I am so sorry
Mom
Mom.
Mom.
A tear rolls down my cheek.
I don’t remember her, not even the sound of her voice. There’s no rush of memories. I don’t know her name or if she was kind to me, what things we loved to do, if she would bake with me or go for long strolls.
But I do know she loved me.
Loved.
Because she is dead.
Another tear escapes my eye and I look up at Miss Sophia, noticing the worried expression.
“Why didn’t you show this earlier? This could’ve helped me bring back my memories.”
“You had to find out by yourself, Maily. I could guide you and listen, but I couldn’t force a memory on you.
Your headaches are caused by the fact that your mind is trying to remember everything, but isn’t able to.
It is some kind of protection.” She leans against her desk, taking me in with a calculated look.
“Showing this picture to you, when you had never even brought up your mother or any person from your past, would’ve erased any progress we’ve made in the years you’ve been here. ”
I hear what she’s saying and her words make sense, but…
“Do you have a picture of my dad too?”
By the sad smile she’s currently giving me, I already know the answer. “No, we do not. This picture is the only one we have.”
My mind works overtime, trying to connect dots that aren’t there. “She died in the fire? How did she get there and why am I still alive?”
Miss Sophia tries to be the epitome of calm, but cracks appear in her normally so zen state. “I can only guide you, you have to figure this out on your own accord.”
Images flash through my mind. The house. The woman — my mother — in front of me. She’s yelling, screaming at me, but what is she saying?
Wait.
My mouth falls open and an uneasy feeling settles in my stomach. “Did…I light the fire?” Miss Sophia remains silent, but there’s something in her eyes and I just know I’ve solved the puzzle. “I did, didn’t I? I burned my house - our house - down and my mother with it. I killed her.”
I hold my breath, somehow hoping — praying that I’m wrong. “Say something!” I shout, trembling uncontrollably.
Miss Sophia takes a step closer, holding out her hands in a ‘I won’t harm you’ kind of way. “It is true, yes, but you weren’t in the right mind back then, Maily, now with your medica —”
A strangled noise escapes from my throat. “Oh my god, this can’t be happening.” I pull at my hair, dig my fingers into my scalp trying to escape this revelation.
“With your medication everything is under control. You are fine and stable.”
“Fine. I’m fine? I killed my own mother!
How is that me being fine?” I bite on my lip until I taste blood, in the hope it would take my mind off the pain I currently feel in my heart.
It does nothing. Maybe I should rip open the bandage on my back, tear at the wounds there. Would that make me feel something?
“Did I…kill my father too?”
Tears run uncontrollably down my cheeks, I couldn’t stop them even if I wanted to. Not when my whole world is falling apart.
“As far as we know, your father wasn’t in the picture, so no. He wasn’t there on the night of the fire. Your mother was the only casualty.”
“This can’t be happening.”
“I know this is a lot to take in, but keep in mind that you were sick. You didn’t take any medication back then and your treatment is going great now.”
She keeps repeating the same nonsense, but doesn’t she understand? No matter how you turn it, I still killed my mother. It makes sense why no one visited me, or even called or sent me a letter. Who would want to contact a murderer?
“I…I need to go.”
I stand on shaky legs and slowly walk back towards the door.
“Maily, please believe me when I say you are a good person.”
That makes me pause. I look up and notice how Miss Sophia takes one step back. “A good person doesn’t commit murder, do they?”
I turn around and open the door, leaving Miss Sophia alone in her office.