Forgetting
Author's Note: It's been a while since I've read the graphic novels, but I remember there being a scene after the storm that just shows Sora's empty bedroom and I've always wondered if maybe the people of Destiny Island forgot about the trio altogether. Like once they left the island, they disappeared altogether without a trace.
She awakens to the soft sound of waves lapping at the shore just outside her window. Her eyes open slowly, the sweet, salty scent of the ocean is calming and familiar; she can't remember what it'd been like before coming to the island. None of her memories seem to extend past the shore.
She rolls on to her side, unsurprised to see the other side of the bed is empty. Her husband, a lifelong occupant of the island, was an early riser, preferring to begin his day before the sun had even a chance to rise.
She shakes her head good-naturedly at his antics, tutting beneath her breath. Just once she wished she could awaken beside him, his tanned arms around her middle, chest against her back.
She knows she must rise, make the bed, and begin her own daily tasks, but the bed is so soft and the sheets so warm from the sunbeam that's slipped in through her open window that she wants nothing more than to curl back up like a child and sleep the day away.
Breakfast.
She's hadn't realized her eyes had closed again.
I must make breakfast!
She unravels herself from the sheets and rolls out of bed. She quickly smoothes the sheets, pulls the comforter back into place and sets the pillows. The motions feel familiar and she does them with ease.
Breakfast! Need to make breakfast!
The urge is almost primal. Though she herself is not hungry, the urgency she feels propels her down to the kitchen to prep the stove. Fetching a pan, she greases it with butter and then cracks several eggs into the middle, just enough to make two servings and a little extra incase he's still hungry.
He?
Surely she couldn't be thinking of her husband? They rarely shared breakfast together. He was up so early that they never even got to wish one another good morning.
"I must be half asleep," she chuckles to herself as she scrambles the yolks. "I'm losing it."
She finishes the eggs quickly and slips the meal onto two different plates despite being the only one hime. The feeling is eerie and she can feel the hairs on her neck rising.
Quick! Wake him up or he'll be late!
She wants to scream. Who? Who should I wake up? There's no one else here! But there's a deep nagging feeling that she forgetting something. For a moment, she entertains the idea of going to find her husband, but surely she'd sound crazy. It wasn't as if she were hearing voices, but instead there was this incessant nagging ...
What am I forgetting?
Leaving the plates on the table, she retraces her steps back up to her bedroom. She eyes the made bed, slowly roaming her gaze over each and every item in the room. She flips through the small notebook on her bedside, her diary, for any events she may have forgotten, but finds nothing. The diary is barely filled, many of the pages are blank.
She can't remember when she started writing it in, let alone when she'd bought it.
Anxiety is rising in her chest. She can practically hear her heart as it beats loudly against her ribcage. Her breath is coming faster and faster in short hysterical breaths.
"What's wrong?" she asks the empty room, her tone slightly shrill. "What am I forgetting?"
She leaves the bedroom and paces the hall outside. There's the bathroom with its empty tub and shiny new faucet, the hall closet with towels and soap and toilet paper, and finally the extra bedroom. She stands for a moment in this final room, looking out through the large glass window. She'd always loved this room, had always thought it'd be the perfect room for a nursery.
She shakes her head at the thought and sadness overwhelms her. She's much too old for that now.
She descends the stairs and returns to the kitchen. As she passes the dining room table, she grabs the extra plate of eggs and scapes the food into the trash.
What is it? What is this? What am I forgetting?
She feels like crying. She feels empty. She isn't sure how to feel.
How can she miss something that's never existed? Something she cannot name?
Someone she can't even remember?