Girl in the Shadows

1
Amnesia
Filtered through the sheer white cotton curtains, the sudden sun snapped my eyelids open. For a long moment, I lay there staring up at the center ceiling light fixture, an oversized silver blue lantern with four small bulbs. My thoughts and memories spun like milk and coffee that were stirred vigorously, all of it mixing into a cup of confusion.

Where was I How did I get here Had all that happened since Daddy deserted us been only a dream, a long, sticky nightmare against which I had struggled and battled into the morning If that were only true, I thought. If I really had awakened to a second chance, how would I change my life What would I do differently I was afraid to think about any of it. What if I did something that would bring it all back

It didn't surprise me that I was plagued by indecision. Every significant choice I had made, especially recently, seemed to have taken me into deeper shadows, deeper bewilderment and pandemonium. I was dangerously close to becoming inert, terrified of moving in any direction.

Lying there and struggling to remember it all, I realized how much I wanted to become an amnesiac. Forgetting was so temptingly luxurious. Yes, how wonderful it would be if today really was the first day of my life, I thought. Daddy wouldn't have died of a brain tumor he had kept secret from us. Mama wouldn't have become so depressed she had to overdose on sleeping pills. My sister, Brenda, wouldn't hate me for being unable to reject her girlfriend Celia's advances, and I wouldn't have had to watch Uncle Palaver drink himself to death. Surely that was enough to drive anyone willingly into a state of amnesia.

I took a deep breath and sat up slowly. My nightgown was a little snug under my arms. Mrs. Westington had insisted I use whatever of her daughter Rhona's clothing I could fit into, which really wasn't much more than this pink nightgown I now wore. The closet was filled with what looked like relatively unworn garments, pretty one-piece dresses, skirts, and blouses I could only dream of wearing. I was still a good twenty pounds overweight and hated the sight of myself undressed. The roll of fat around my waist made it look like I had swallowed a small inner tube. When I was younger, I used to wonder if I could poke myself with a pin and let the fat out as I could let the air out of a balloon. I came close to trying it.

Despite my weight, I did hold up every pretty garment Rhona had left behind and dream of what I would look like if I could actually fit into each. When I sifted through the closet, I realized Rhona had left a considerable wardrobe. A few skirts and blouses actually still had sales tags hanging on them. There were at least two-dozen pairs of shoes. However, when she had abandoned her responsibilities nearly ten years ago, she had left more than just her clothing and other material possessions behind. According to Mrs. Westington, Rhona had deserted her deaf daughter, Echo, without a good-bye, without a promise to return. She hadn't even left a note for her to read someday explaining why she had left her!
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