| Author: | Stephanie Daich | ISBN: | 9781311264787 |
| Publisher: | Stephanie Daich | Publication: | December 23, 2015 |
| Imprint: | Smashwords Edition | Language: | English |
| Author: | Stephanie Daich |
| ISBN: | 9781311264787 |
| Publisher: | Stephanie Daich |
| Publication: | December 23, 2015 |
| Imprint: | Smashwords Edition |
| Language: | English |
It was chilly in the room despite the heat of the rest of the house. I took my finger and traced it along the cold slab of cement. I inhaled deeply, to see if a recognized the smell in there. Nothing. I walked in circles around the room several times, then I turned to London with sadness.
“I don’t remember anything. Are you sure this is where I lived for years?”
London nodded.
“It’s not doing a thing for me. I really thought it would.” I noticed the room had a mustard yellow aura. A shiver went down my back. I did not like the way the aura made me feel.
London came over to me and put her thick arm around my shoulders. “I am so sorry, Alora. Maybe it is for the best.”
I couldn’t believe that. Even if they had tortured me there, didn’t I deserve to know it? I tried to stop the tears, but they came anyways. I was so disappointed.
“How about we forget this place and go get ice cream?” London said.
I wasn’t ready to leave. I desperately wanted answers and had expected to find them there. Glum, I sat on the floor. I would stay there until my memories returned. Unsure of what to do, London lowered her large body onto the ground next to me. She pulled me into her and held me for over an hour. Her warmness softened my sorrow, but not by much. My bottom eventually got sore from the hard cement, but I wanted my memories.
Finally, London said, “Alora, please. Let’s go. There is a bad spirit in this home. I can feel it. I am ready to leave, and you should be too.”
She was right. I could sense something dark and negative there. I let her pull me up. I was upset I had failed to retrieve my memories. I had been convinced I would find them there. We walked out of the house, and I could feel the negativity melt off my shoulders.
“Let’s get ice cream,” London said as she held my hand and led me across the street to her waiting car.
I didn’t want ice cream. I didn’t want anything. I was so disappointed I hadn’t figured out who I was. The house was the only clue to my past. No one else knew a thing about me. If I couldn’t find my past at the house, then I concluded I would never know who I was.
It was chilly in the room despite the heat of the rest of the house. I took my finger and traced it along the cold slab of cement. I inhaled deeply, to see if a recognized the smell in there. Nothing. I walked in circles around the room several times, then I turned to London with sadness.
“I don’t remember anything. Are you sure this is where I lived for years?”
London nodded.
“It’s not doing a thing for me. I really thought it would.” I noticed the room had a mustard yellow aura. A shiver went down my back. I did not like the way the aura made me feel.
London came over to me and put her thick arm around my shoulders. “I am so sorry, Alora. Maybe it is for the best.”
I couldn’t believe that. Even if they had tortured me there, didn’t I deserve to know it? I tried to stop the tears, but they came anyways. I was so disappointed.
“How about we forget this place and go get ice cream?” London said.
I wasn’t ready to leave. I desperately wanted answers and had expected to find them there. Glum, I sat on the floor. I would stay there until my memories returned. Unsure of what to do, London lowered her large body onto the ground next to me. She pulled me into her and held me for over an hour. Her warmness softened my sorrow, but not by much. My bottom eventually got sore from the hard cement, but I wanted my memories.
Finally, London said, “Alora, please. Let’s go. There is a bad spirit in this home. I can feel it. I am ready to leave, and you should be too.”
She was right. I could sense something dark and negative there. I let her pull me up. I was upset I had failed to retrieve my memories. I had been convinced I would find them there. We walked out of the house, and I could feel the negativity melt off my shoulders.
“Let’s get ice cream,” London said as she held my hand and led me across the street to her waiting car.
I didn’t want ice cream. I didn’t want anything. I was so disappointed I hadn’t figured out who I was. The house was the only clue to my past. No one else knew a thing about me. If I couldn’t find my past at the house, then I concluded I would never know who I was.
