BENEATH THE LOCKED DOORS

THE THINGS SHE FORGOT

Claira waking up from bed that morning, was the first thing she noticed. On the other hand the second thing that drew her attention was the light a soft morning light filtered through the curtains, resting gently on her face like nothing has happened, like the night hadn't existed. Looking down on her floor and her environment, she found that the cold floor, the girl, and the voice she had encountered, had all been nothing but a mere dream. But her body knew no better, only to find out that her muscles are aching,her throat felt dry and lost, like she had been screaming all through the night. Slowly she pushed herself up, her head slightly spinning around her room again as she looked. Bringing to her notice, everything was normal, too normal for what just happened. Her blanket was neatly tucked around her legs, the ceiling fan in her room hummed quietly above her, also her phone rested on the table beside the bed exactly where she had left it before going to bed.

Claira swallowed hard.

"Okay......." she whispered to herself, her voice was still unsteady. "Okay, you're fine." She kept on saying those words to herself again and again, repeatedly. As if repeating it would make it true. It wasn't until she stood up from bed, that she noticed her feet were dirty, not just dusty but very dirty, like she had been walking to a place so dirty, a place that she shouldn't have been. Right then her stomach twisted. "No....she murmured to herself, shaking her head in disbelief as she backed away slightly. " that's not possible, this can't be true ". She forced herself to move while heading straight for the bathroom. Each step felt heavier than the last,like her body was trying to resist something that her mind refused to accept. Getting to the bathroom, she turned on the tap and let the water run over her hands, she froze Instantly, there just above her wrist, she noticed a faint bruise like finger shaped. Claira stared at it her breath catching in her throat. " I did not--- she started, then stopped. Then she noticed that she can't finish up the sentence, because she didn't know how to. Did not what?

Did not fall?

Did not hit something?

Did not remember?

Just as the question were just popping in, suddenly her reflection stared back at her from the mirror, pale and unsettled for a moment ___just a brief one, just flickering moments, her expression changed. It became hardened, colder, her shoulders straightened slightly, her gaze sharpening in a way that didn't feel like her at all.

" She's starting to notice ". The voices was hers ,but the tone wasn't her at all. Claira blinked her eyes. And just like that__it was gone. Immediately she staggered back slightly, gripping firmly the sink for support. " No...no,no.." . Her breathing quickened . "I need help". She said.

In noon time, she went to see a therapist by name Dr. Tunde Basil. She sat in his quiet office that smelled faintly of books and antiseptic.

Her fingers fidgeted in her laps as she avoided eye contact directly at the man across from her.

Dr. Tunde didn't look intimidating, if anything only his calm expression made her more nervous. " how long have you been experiencing this?" He asked her gently while his voice became steady and patient.

Claira hesitated......"I.....don't know ". Because I don't remember when it started.

He nodded his head slowly, jotting something down. He asked her again, " Does the memory gaps sometimes?" She answered him with a shaky breath. They're getting worse. A pause. Then she continued " sometimes I wake up and things becomes different. Like someone else has been living my life for me".

Dr. Tunde didn't react immediately, he simply watched her carefully. He then asked her "do you ever feel like you're not alone?" Claira chest tightened, while her mind flashed back ____the girl, the voice, the door, she swallowed her saliva and answered "...yes". The word came out quiter than she intended. He leaned back slightly, his expression became thoughtful now. "Claira ". He said gently "I'm going to ask you some questions, and I need you to answer as honestly as you can". She nodded while tightening her fingers together. So Dr. Tunde asked her "do you have any memory of your childhood?" A thick and heavy silence broke out. Claira opened her mouth to answer ____,but nothing came out . Reason was there was nothing there to remember, no birthdays, no school memories, no friends just darkness. While pondering on that, her throat tightened as panic slowly crept in. "I ....she whispered, her voice breaking " I don't remember anything before...... maybe sixteen ". Meanwhile Dr. Tunde's pen stopped moving. For the first time something shifted in his expression. And that expression was concern, real concern. "I see", he said quietly, Claira's eye's dropped to the floor and that's when she noticed a piece of paper in her hand. Then her breath caught, because she didn't remember picking it up. Slowly, hesitantly , she began unfolding it, it was a drawing, a rough, child like drawing, having a small room, no windows, a door and in the corner , a girl who was curled up, waiting. Claira's hands began to shake. She whispered in panic and disbelief " I didn't draw this......but deep down she knew that wasn't true.

That night, as she lay in her bed staring up at the ceiling, that point sleep felt like the most dangerous thing in the world. Because she didn't know where she would wake up from. Or who she would wake up as. Knowing that everything wasn't right at all. Immediately her eyes slowly drifted shut anways. And somewhere deep in the quiet of her mind,while asleep a soft voice hummed a lullaby, one that she had never learned. It some how looked like she knew it by heart "stay quiet ".....pause.".....or he'll hear you".