A/N: Hi all, this is the first time I am writing in a 1st POV. I wanted to give it a try and expand on learning different writing techniques. I am also usually not one for the rules, but I am trying to follow them on this one. Please feel free to throw some pointers at me or review on what you think of the plot. Thanks for checking it out. :)

Musical Inspiration:

Losing Your Memory - by Ryan Star

(Linkable playlist in profile under TTS)

Tracing The Sparks

Chapter 1

Drowning In Memories

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Taraxacum— dandelions, most people would see them as a weed that signaled it was time to cut their lawn, but to the women in my family, the small flower encouraged the second sight. Both my grandmother and mother taught me at an early age the importance of plants. It was not only for their medicinal benefits or the beauty of them but for their magical properties as well.

When my mother first pointed them out to me, she explained how the bloomed yellow flowers would close themselves up tight and turn into the white puffy seed head that would continue to spread its life elsewhere. "Heather," she would say, "close your eyes and make a wish. If you can blow all the little seeds away in one breath, your wish will come true."

Till this day, I still make wishes on dandelions, but my only wish is to have my mother back.

Kneeling in the grass, I took my time stripping the flower's stem of its leaves and ignored the odd looks from passersby. Placing them in a baggie, I stood to brush the dirt from my jeans and stepped back onto the stone walkway. It was the same walkway I had come to know very well over the past year and it led directly to the front door of Bayview Nursing and Rehabilitation Center.

I have a tendency of getting sidetracked, but I really couldn't help myself. As soon as I saw the dandelions on the building's lawn, they screamed tea leaves.

Focusing back on my reason for being here, I prepared myself and walked through the electronic glass door. The smell hit me instantly. It was a mixture of stale air, bleach, and a touch of urine. I hated this place. Though it was one of the more upscale nursing homes, it couldn't camouflage the impending disease and death.

Continuing on, I knew the smell would only become stronger once I reached the second level. The first floor of the building was only used for those undergoing rehabilitation.

Giving the receptionist a smile as I passed, I quickly made my way into the elevator and carefully pushed the number two on the panel. The number three button always unsettles me. I know that only those waiting for death reside on that floor and I dreaded the day I would have to switch numbers.

Hearing the ding of my destination, I stepped out and made my way straight to the nurse's station. There, I found my favorite aide.

Barb was the kindest nurse I had come into contact with during my visits here. I had found out during one of our chats that she grew up on a farm and took on this career choice after her own parent became ill. She had a bulky frame that I imagine was built up over time from lifting patients from their beds. Her tightly curled dark hair was pulled into a ponytail while her reading glasses rested on the top of her head. Dressed in her brown scrubs, Barb leaned over the desk shuffling through papers before she looked up at me.

"Heather," she said with a smile, "on time as usual I see."

Dropping my elbows onto the counter that circled the nurse's station, I addressed her, "Hey Barb, how's she doing today?"

Looking down, the nurse straightened a stack of papers before stapling them together. "She's having a good day." Bringing her focus back to me, she continued, "Minnie's had her shower and she participated in the charades game they played in the dining hall. She's back in her room now. An orderly should be in soon with her dinner."

"Okay," I replied.

As I turned to leave, she spoke again.

"Congrats on graduating. Next stop is college, where the real fun begins," she said with a hint of deviousness to her voice.

This woman must have some serious college tales. Metal note, pry them from her later. "Thanks, looking forward to it," I say, giving her a smile as I back away.

Following my usual path and reaching a room, I entered to see my grandmother sitting on her bed, staring out the window. Not wanting to startle her, I took a slow approach. I rested my hand on her shoulder and watched as she turned to face me.

Even though her hair had grayed with age, it was still full and lively. Her big brown eyes stood out in comparison to her thin lips. Anyone could tell by looking at her that she was beautiful in her youth.

The sign of recognition lit up her soft aged face and made me smile in relief. She still knows me.

My grandmother's diagnosis at 58 was a surprise to her doctors. They deemed it a young age for the onset of symptoms to appear. This disease ran in my family and I selfishly feared I would have the same fate. Her memories were slipping fast, but I was thrilled to see that she was, in fact, having a good day.

After moving down and hugging her, I inched over to sit on a chair in the corner that faced her. "Hi, Mom-mom."

Her features continued to soften as she looked me over. "Heather, it's so good to see you. It's been so long."

"It's only been a week," I say, grinning. I knew she had difficulty with time. I need to start marking off my visits on her calendar. "I heard you played charades today. Did you have fun?"

"Mm." She nodded with a hum. "The gentleman who comes here to run activities is funny and he is quite dashing like your grandfather was." She sighed as she fiddled with her necklace. "I do miss my Charlie."

"Mom told me all about the legendary adventures of Minnie and Charlie."

My grandmother let out a hearty chuckle. "This town didn't know what hit em'. Those Jersey Shore kids had nothing on us."

"Mom-mom," I said, unable to keep the amusement from my tone, "have you been watching reality TV again?"

"Only when they let me change the channel. I can't believe this is what our state has become. The boardwalk really has gone to hell."

I nodded in agreement. I did enjoy living in New Jersey, but the town we lived in was classic suburbia. It was nothing like the area near the beach.

Absently patting my purse, I suddenly recalled what I had brought with me. Opening it up and shuffling through, I pulled out a small satchel and a yellow candle. With the satchel in hand, I stood and stole the pillow on her bed. Separating it from its cover, I slid the small bag of herbs inside it and replaced it in its original spot.

After noticing my grandmother's wry smile, I pointed at it. "I brought you a Euphrasia mixture I made. It will give you some good dreams." The night prior, I had spent my time crushing the dried plant into a powder and infusing it with other herbs. Anything to help.

"Eyebright, heh?" she confirmed. "It just so happens to help with concentration and memory as well. Same goes for the yellow candle you have sitting there." She gestured to the desk. "I'm wise to what you're doing, child," she said with an all to knowing look.

Busted. I had been looking for Wiccan spells and ingredients that would prolong her memory since she was diagnosed. "Or— maybe I just wanted you to be able to have a dream foretelling that you will win at bingo." I shrugged nonchalantly and veered over to place the candle in its holder. Lighting it, I heard her give a laughable snort.

"I never win at bingo. That haughty Ethel Simmons always wins. Between you and me— " she leaned closer and lowered her voice, "I think it's because she's doing the boogie-woogie with Mitch the bingo caller."

Opening my mouth, I could feel my face shrivel up. "Ew. Mom-mom." She just looked at me passively and smoothed out the blanket next to her.

Hearing a small knock, we both looked to the door to see a man walking in with a tray. When he saw I was there, he gave me a goofy smile.

"Hello Heather," the orderly said as he placed the tray down on the adjustable table and pushed it to my grandmother. He greeted her before bringing his attention back to me and began to fidget. "How have you been?"

"Fine, thanks." I smiled brightly and batted my eyelashes a bit. I couldn't remember his name. I knew it was something like Bobby or Barry. He was only a few years older than me and always gave off a nervous demeanor. "Did you get a haircut? It looks good," I complimented.

"Yeah— yeah I did," he stuttered out and blushed a bit. "Well— I should get back. It's nice to see you again." As quickly as he came in, he went rushing out the door.

I bit back a laugh and shook my head while my grandmother gave me a disapproving look. "Why do you do that to him?"

Gesturing to her tray, I pointed my finger at it. "Because it gives you an extra pudding." I waved her off, it wasn't a big deal. More flies with honey and all that.

As she ate, I stood from my seat and walked around her room. I paused at her dresser and gazed upon the family pictures she had spread out. My eyes immediately went to the one of my mother and me. She looked so vibrant in it while I happily stood beside her.

I know I'm biased, but I always thought my mother was exquisitely attractive and eagerly wanted compliments that I looked like her. In comparison, my hair was a darker auburn while my mothers was a fiery red, but we had the same button nose and pronounced cheekbones. I grew into my height to be an inch shorter than her 5'7 and though I didn't have her grey-blue eyes, I did inherit my grandmother's brown.

It has been six years since I had last seen my mother. One day she just disappeared and the police never found any evidence of foul play. My father tried to convince me that she left us and was never coming back. I know better though and have yet to give up on her.

The thoughts of my father brought my eyes to the newest picture on the dresser. I glared at the Perkin's family portrait, taken only a few short months ago. It consisted of my father, Steven the lawyer, his newest wife Georgia— who's smugness never wore off her face, her son Nico, and myself. I'm the only one that didn't quite fit in with the three of them and their various shades of blond hair.

When I turned to check on my grandmother, I noticed she had finished picking at her food and was staring at me with an intense look on her face. "What phase is it tonight?" she asked.

"Let's see— " I walked over to her calendar on the wall and checked the date. "Full moon."

"Ah," she mumbled, "June moon- the lovers' moon, it was always my favorite." Pushing her table to the side, she patted the spot next to her on the bed. "Come, sit."

Fulfilling her request, I moved beside her and sat down. She shifted to face me and put a hand on my shoulder. "Turn around," she instructed.

Confused, I followed her lead until I was staring at her headboard. I suddenly felt her hands around my neck and warmness hitting the center of my chest. Fingering the charm, I could now tell she was hooking a necklace behind me.

I turned back quickly in surprise. I knew by the feel and shape, it was the necklace she had always worn. I had never seen her without it and knew it was in our family for generations. It was a beautiful piece of jewelry and I had always admired it. It consisted of five stones set in petrified wood. "Mom-mom, I can't accept this. You love this necklace."

She shook her head. "I love you more and it's finally your time." Placing both hands on my cheeks she looked at me with glazed eyes and placed a kiss on my forehead. As I watched her inch away, I was taken back by her expression. She closed her lids tightly and after a few deep breaths— she opened her eyes. I noticed quickly that something was off as she stared at me with a blank face.

"Are you okay?" I placed a hand on my grandmother's arm to comfort her.

She flinched at my touch and fumbled from her spot on the bed. "Who are you? What are you doing in my room?"

"Mom-mom, it's alright, calm down." I tried to keep my voice soft while on the inside I was panicking. "It's me Heather— your granddaughter."

"You— " She pointed at me forcefully. "You are not my granddaughter." Scurrying to the door, she looked around wildly. "Nurse— nurse, help, someone broke into my room!"

Even though I tried to prepare myself for this day, I still felt the pain of that comment rip through me. Keeping my tears at bay, I attempted again to calm her down. Every step I took, my grandmother took a step back. I stopped when Barb came bursting through the door like she was trying to put out a fire.

Looking around, the nurse was panting heavily. "What's going on in here?"

"Her— " My grandmother pointed at me again. "Get her out of here!"

Barb shook her head. "Minnie," she began as she put her hands on her hips, "that's your granddaughter."

"NO IT'S NOT!" she yelled and put a hand to her chest to calm her heart. "Please, get her out!" she begged, "please."

"I'll go," I said, heartbroken and put my hands up in defeat. As the nurse tried to reason with me, I gathered my things. There was no use arguing, if I stayed, it would only make things worse. I blew out the candle I had lit and stood by the door.

Before I walked out, I turned to my grandmother one last time. "I love you."

With that, I left the building with the goal to keep myself composed. With each stride to the parking lot, I felt like I was losing the battle and finally let my grief take hold.

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I'm not sure how long I've been sitting in the driveway staring at my darkened family home. If the temperature inside my car is any indication, it's been awhile. Turning the knob to lower the cool air that pumped through the vents, I inspected the goosebumps on my arm and a shiver ran through me.

Shutting down the engine, I reached for my purse on the passenger seat and exited my car. After jiggling my keys to get the front door open, I punched in the security code and flicked the light switch.

The chandelier illuminated the main hall and the newest tacky paintings my stepmother purchased stared back at me. My face took on a familiar scowl while I strained my ears for any sounds within the house. Figuring I was safe, I went to the kitchen to grab a drink.

Once there, I noticed a credit card on the counter with a small slip of paper. I know that handwriting all too well.

'Heather and Nico - We are in Atlantic City.'

"It's the weekend— of course, you are." I felt myself tightening my grip around the small paper.

'Use the credit card as needed and call if there is an emergency. - Mom and Dad'

Forcefully rolling up the note into a ball and throwing it over my shoulder, I snatched the card up for safe keeping. I pulled out a soda from the fridge and trudged the distance to my room.

Once I climbed the staircase, the realization hit that the note said Heather and— Nico. Shit, is my stepbrother here? Instantly, my mouth went dry and my palms began to sweat. I switched directions in a panic and tiptoed towards his bedroom.

The door was ajar so I peeked my head in slowly. My body physically relaxed when I saw the room was completely dark. Thank goodness, he's not home. Relieved, I turned and ran to my bedroom— locking myself in.

Leaning against the door, I let out a sigh. Ah— sanctuary.

I love my room, it took years to get it to be perfectly Zen. My blue walls and pristine white furniture were my calming oasis. Kicking off my shoes and placing them at the bottom of my closet, I hung up my purse and drifted over to my bed. Laying there, I stared up at my canopy replaying the day's events.

Why today? She was doing so well— why forget who I am today? Mom-mom was the last link I had to my mother. She was the only family I feel I had left. My dad will never accept me and my ways. That means I will continue to go on hiding them, just as my mom did. My father being raised a very strict religion will always see my beliefs as being evil.

Opening my side drawer, I pulled out my mom's journal. The thing was chock full of information. Her thoughts, spells, mixtures of different herbs, her practices— it was one of the few things I had left of her. Before I could open the thick book, my cell phone began to ring. Looking down at the ID, I smiled and hit the speaker button.

"Heather's dojo— how may I help you?"

"Hey, Baby, I been trying to get a hold of you all day. Where ya been?"

Feeling my brows pull together, I thought those words over. I didn't remember any missed calls. "I'm sorry Phil, I've been busy with my grandmother. She um— she hasn't been doing too well."

"That sucks— but listen, Crystal's having everyone over at the shore house. You should come down." I could hear laughing in the background, and I knew instantly it was the hostess herself.

My best friend's voice chimed through the phone. "Tell that bitch she better get her ass over here, she missed my last get-together."

"Love ya too, Cris." I couldn't help but laugh before Phil's tone came back.

"So you coming or what?"

I took a long drawn out breath as I rubbed my head. Beer pong and songs on repeat were not how I wanted to spend my evening. "I'm gonna pass and hang out here this weekend."

I could hear my boyfriend groaning into the phone. "Heth, we haven't spent any time together since graduation."

"I know and I'm sorry. Tell you what, the next spontaneous thing you come up with after this weekend— we'll do. No, if's, and's, or but's from me. We'll just go, okay?"

"Yeah, yeah." He exhaled. I'm sure he was probably smoking a cigarette even though he said he quit. "I'll call you when I get home. Enjoy your weekend."

"You too."

As I ended the call, I couldn't help feeling a little bad for not going. I knew it for the best though, I would have been miserable and ended up being a downer.

Sitting up on my bed and giving myself a quick stretch, I decided that a bath sounded like a good idea. Grabbing my phone and the journal, I padded my way to the bathroom.

Baths were probably my only girly pleasure and for a night like this, I made sure I did it up right. I lined the tiled floor with a variety of candles and turned the faucet on in the tub to a strong hot stream. I opened the box I had hidden under my sink and pulled out one of the remaining infusions my mother made.

Taking off the lid and smelling the liquid inside the small vile, I couldn't help but smile at her skill for creating beautiful scents. I didn't understand the language on the tiny label, but the aroma was intoxicating enough.

Pouring it into the bath water, I shimmied off my clothes and set my phone into the dock. I pulled up my playlist of music and hit shuffle before stepping into the now full tub.

Leaning back, the water felt heavenly on my muscles as I rested and let my mind go. I tried to think of my college plans, but my thoughts would always linger back to my grandmother.

Frustrated, I reached over the side of the tub and picked up the journal. I would focus on clues to find my mother.

Opening the book to the last entry, I read it over for what seemed like the 100th time. I practically had the whole page memorized. It read out like a ritual of sorts with the instructions and words spoken. I have tried so many times to understand the meaning and figure out what she was working on, but it still left me puzzled. I often would find myself wondering if this last page had something to do with why she disappeared.

*"Inspice, et ad aquilonem, meridiem dicitur a plaga orientali usque ad plagam maris. Aqua, ignis, terra, aeris, spiritus est. Tolle de terra quam intraturi indigent. Fiat, fiat." As I read the foreign words out loud, the candles began to flicker. The air conditioner must have just kicked on.

Annoyed with learning nothing new, I put the book on the floor and slid back further into the hot water. I felt completely comfortable— so much so, I hadn't noticed how sleepy I was.

As I strained to keep my lids open, I vaguely noticed the room getting darker and the smell of sulfur invading my nose. The central air must have blown out the candles completely. Feeling to content to move, I closed my eyes—

I can't breathe! Panic blankets me as I claw through the water. There is so much of it— how is my freaking tub this deep? It's so dark and I can't see anything. All I can feel is my body under pressure from the depths of water surrounding me.

Fear takes hold now as I know I am drowning. No matter how much I kick I can't feel which direction is up. I need air!

Feeling the pain of my constricted lungs, water began to creep into my throat. A hand wrapping itself around my wrist brings me some hope. Someone is leading me in a different direction.

Now that I have my inner balance back, I kick my feet in the direction of the surface.

The air hits my face and I immediately try to expel the water I swallowed. Through my coughing fit, I can feel a strong arm wrapped around my waist and it drags me to shore.

As the water becomes more shallow, I take in my surroundings to find I am outside. It appears I am in a lake that borders a forest. The only light that I can make out is coming from a bridge not too far away. How on earth did I get here?

Falling onto the soft dirt, my coughing continues and I try to gain some stability. As I hold onto the seam of my dress for warmth— a dress I was clearly not wearing before, I notice a girl to my side with long dark hair.

She appears to have been pulled from the water as well. Any fear I may have had about her being dead vanishes with the sight of her chest rising and falling. With movement catching the edge of my vision, I attempt to look up to meet the gaze of my savior.

I raised my pounding head slowly to see boots followed by the rest of his wet attire. It was too dark to make out his exact features, but he somehow looked familiar. What stood out the most though— was his expression. It was one of surprise and shock.

"Daphne?"

That was all I heard before my oxygen lacked brain shut down and I fell into an abyss of darkness.

Have I piqued any interest? What do you think of the OC? Reviews are always helpful :D

*Latin to English translation - Examine them, and to the north, the south is called, from the east side even unto the west side of the sea. Water, fire, earth, air, is spirit. Take out of the land, into which I have need of. So be it.