They were intricate, enmeshed memories. Her eyes burned and squinted in response to the incandescent white light aimed at her. The sixteen year old Arnesa had a perplexed and somber look. She kept staring at the doctors unable to discern their concerned faces. As she lay down on her white bed sheets, she felt her head exploding, the sudden rush of blood flow bemusing her vision to such an extent that she shrieked, her head in her bare hands.

A luminous flow of air made everything in front lucid. She could trace her eyes to a figure not far. The figure stood as she stood and mirrored her every move. Slowly her steps found her place closer to the figure. She gaped at the pale, unknown face of a girl, her features dull and depressing. Suddenly, the figure stopped mimicking and ran away, confusing Arnesa and forcing her to also run after her like a dog chasing a cat. They ran through trees which canopied them from any light thus obscuring Arnesa’s vision. Arnesa could feel her heart throbbing faster, faster, faster.

Her head burned again and she screamed. The decibel of her voice seemed painful. The doctors, both concerned and abashed, tried to console and control the overwhelming patient. Arnesa’s amber eyes were filled with tears, symbolizing the pain she was feeling.

Arnesa was scheduled for a surgery later the next day. She woke up early that day and showered trying to lessen the intensity of the fire in her head with ice cold water. Afterwards, she sat on her bed, trying to recall what happened before she arrived at the hospital but it only intensified the headache. The nurse ran inside and sedated Arnesa and she went into a position of deep trance.

“Yes Ana, that was a very funny story.” A voice muttered in a sarcastic tone.

“Well, my adventures are lame,” replied another voice. Arnesa sat comfortably on a bed in front of a girl with silky, lustrous blonde hair and amber eyes like Arnesa’s but much more beautiful. Arnesa looked at the clock and kept muttering words incoherently. Suddenly the girl on the other side looked complex, her thoughts tangled. Slowly tears rolled down her face, gently at first but soon she started to weep vigorously. Arnesa jumped up the scene and rushed towards her. The girl stood up and with a last glance at Arnesa’s face, and stormed away. She sprinted faster into the dark of the night, Arnesa running behind. “Stop Ana. Please.” She kept yelling but the girl would not stop. Arnesa stopped to catch her breath. As she looked up having regained her equity of breath, she saw a car rushing and her Ana in the middle of the road. Before Arnesa could even comprehend anything, the car hit the blonde and drove away. Arnesa felt that she lost her oxygen yet again. She gaped the magnitude of blood flowing from beneath the girl’s beautiful hair. Arnesa fell to her knees, shrieking and shivering. Her head felt heavy and her vision lost clarity.

“Are you okay miss?” a voice reached Arnesa and she slowly opened her eyes to a nurse with a concerned face. The nurse helped Arnesa up and went away. She kept recalling what she had seen in that dream. Was it even a dream? Who was that girl? Questions like this perplexed Arnesa more. Thinking about everything, her mind soon grey hazy and she was taken to a room of disinfected paraphernalia.


“Yes dear, I’ll be there in time.” A deep voice said through the phone.

Arnesa stood at the courtyard as she overlooked her five year old and talked to her husband. She smiled more vibrantly as she walked towards the house. Suddenly she stopped and touched the handle of the staircase for support. It felt like her mind went blank for split seconds. She soon regained equilibrium and walked inside the house. It had been more than seven years since Arnesa had her first fit in the hospital. She still had hazy visions and scenes of that girl. Who that girl was and why was she in her visions? Why did she feel like she knew her? Why was her past still unknown? These questions still remained unanswered and the hope to retrieve any answer, amounted to zero. But Arnesa was fine the way things were.

She was just fine.

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I'm a student and I'm into literature, every form of it. I'm a Muslim. I believe, I hope and I possess the needed attributes that are necessary to feel human. I like to try new activities, hence i always have too much on my plate. I believe I am friendly enough. When I read, it feels like a window to another person's life. I become overly attached to the characters and cry when they do. A similar feeling engulfs me when i write. I feel every bit of emotion my characters or any characters feel. My favourite book is "looking for Alaska" and "pride and prejudice".