It's once again Storytime Sunday! This is the second segment to a continuing story I will be writing. If you missed the first part you can read it here.
For anyone wondering if I already have everything written out, well, you'd be wrong. I write everything impromptu. I have a vague idea where I want to go but the story itself is spontaneous. I think it's more organic that way and it adds a little excitement for me. I don't even know what's coming!
So, for the second time in an unpredicted series, I give you Storytime Sunday. I hope you enjoy!
The girl blinked as she reached back in her memory, desperate for answers. Could she have forgotten all of this? Perhaps this was her real life? Nothing made sense. She turned her thoughts on their side and re-examined the possibilities but she simply couldn't explain it. She stared off into the distance and felt a general uneasiness enter her body.
"You haven't touched your breakfast," inquired the mother look-alike. The girl turned to her in disbelief, this couldn't be possible. She must be dreaming. So she did what she always did to try and wake up from a dream, she would close her eyes tight. She closed them as tight as she could, scrunching her entire face. Everyone around the table paused and looked at her in curiosity then laughed. She opened her eyes slowly and could feel the cold sting of reality bite in to her through their mocking.
In shame she dropped her head and pushed herself away from the table. In an instant she stood and ran away, feeling her face flush with a mixture of anger and sadness. This couldn't be happening, she wanted to convince herself. The rest of the table stared after her, shocked at her outburst. She never behaved like that. Arianna was not herself. The father and mother exchanged glances, their faces expressing concern and worry. Not a word passed between them as they communicated intuitively. Politely they excused themselves and went after their young, sweet daughter.
Together the mother and father ascended the long marble staircase and rapped on Arianna's bedroom door. "Arianna, sweetie, would you please open the door?" The father asked delicately, his heart filled with an overwhelming desire to make it all better. He attempted the door and found it open, pushing it gently. There, in bed, was Arianna. She sat there with her knees to her chest and her head fallen, her hair covering her face. The mother and father looked at her, their hearts filling with heartache. Slowly they approached and sat beside her. "What's wrong?" the mother asked gently.
"This isn't my home," the girl muttered between sniffles. In that moment the parents exchanged glances and immediately knew what happened. "Arianna..." they probed, "I think we know what happened..." the mother cooed sweetly. Slowly the girl raised her head, hope filling the cavity in her chest, "You do?" she asked, sniffing. The parents nodded and the mother spoke once more, in a calming tone, "You remember being with a different family," the girl nodded affirmatively, "And your name isn't Arianna". The girl nodded enthusiastically as hope began to explode inside of her. "I know what it is," the mother says simply, "You see you're a very special girl, just like all my other children and you have a special ability". She paused momentarily, recognizing the need for brevity, "You're so very sensitive, making it easy for you to perceive a world beyond ours. You can slip between worlds with ease, living other lives and experiencing the unknown...so there are times when you're sleeping that you drift..."
The girl stared at her, dumbfounded. Words jumped to the tip of her tongue and her mind circled itself over and over. Was all of that really possible? Was this really her home? She tried to make sense of each word, reflecting on the explanation. "You're...really my mom?" the girl asked, staring into the face of her mother. She nodded. The young girl then turned to her father, "And you're really my father?" she posed. He nodded. "My name is Arianna..." she mumbled softly, her mind unable to fathom such a strange possibility. It seemed completely ridiculous. It was illogical. It was irrational. Yet something inside of her spoke. There was something lurking in the back of her mind telling her this was right. They were her parents and this was her life. "Mom? Dad?" she whimpered. In a heartbeat her parents wrapped their warm arms around her and tightly squeezed, "We're here," the mother said.
The girl accepted her identity as Arianna, welcoming their warm embrace. In that brief moment everything came flooding back. All of her feelings and memories of her life as Arianna. She grinned happily. "I'm back," she whispered.
(Continue to Part III . . .)
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