The Persistence of Memory

Before she came to X Middle School, Ingrid Third was kicked out of a long list of prestigious academic institutions. Why did she have so much trouble fitting in and staying out of trouble?

Author's Note: This isn't the first fanfic that I've tried to write, but it is the first one I've posted (because I'm a raving mad perfectionist and I won't usually allow myself to post a story until I'm completely done with it…which so far has not happened until now, but I digress). I'd really appreciate some constructive criticism, suggestions, corrections, or whatever…Okay, here's the story.

Chapter 1: Detached

12 January 2001

It's all over. This has been a difficult week for all of us, and now it's finally ended. The worry, the aching, the disbelief has culminated in this one event. Today we laid Mom to rest.

Ingrid stood between her father and her older sister, holding a single white lily in her hand. She stepped towards the casket and placed the flower on the polished black surface among the others. One by one, family members and friends came to pay their last respects. Ingrid watched them with unfeeling eyes. Her only thoughts were of her mother, who had been alive and breathing only a few days ago, but was now lying cold and dead within the casket.

I still can't believe she's really gone. I mean, she's always been there, she was just so much a part of us. And yet, strangely enough, I haven't cried once through this whole thing. I know I should feel sad. But I just don't feel anything right now.

Ingrid looked up at her father. He was staring at the casket, then the headstone, then back, with tears threatening to fall from his eyes. She glanced at her sister. Ariella had been weeping silently and steadily ever since she had given the eulogy, but now as the casket was being lowered into the ground, a stifled cry escaped from her throat and she began to sob. Ingrid put an arm around her sister's shoulders as their father held both of them close. He was crying too. Ingrid could barely hear the minister's prayer anymore. All she heard was the sobbing of her father and sister, which seemed all the louder next to her numb silence.

Why couldn't I cry like Dad and Ariella did? I miss Mom just as much as they do. I don't understand. She always cared about me, and I can't even show my grief for her passing. All the people who were there think that I don't care that she's gone. I know. I saw them staring at me. It was like they were waiting for me to break down and cry. Well, they can give up right now. I don't think it's going to happen anytime soon.

After all the guests had gone, Ingrid shut herself in her room and curled up in her bed. She needed to get some rest. Shutting her eyes, she thought of what would face her at school tomorrow. There would be sympathetic looks from her fellow classmates. The teachers would certainly make the customary inquiries. And then there was the school counselor. Ingrid groaned inwardly. She did not look forward to meeting with him.

I really don't want to meet with the counselor tomorrow. He's probably just going to ask me a load of personal questions in an attempt to figure me out. Then he'll try to comfort me with overly optimistic, meaningless words. As if stuff like that is going to make everything better again. Well, there's no use fighting it. I guess all I have to do is give it a chance and see what happens.

There was a soft knock at her door. "Come in," Ingrid said. It was Ariella.

"Hey, sis," she greeted her with a weak smile, but it was obvious that she had just gotten done crying. "Are you sure you're up for going to school tomorrow?"

"I guess. I have midterms next week and I don't want to miss anything."

Ariella nodded understandingly. "So…are you going to visit the counselor tomorrow?"

"Dad wants me to. I don't really want to, but I guess I don't have much of a choice."

"It'll help you deal with it. It really will."

Ingrid shrugged. "I don't think I need to go. I mean, I miss Mom, a lot. But I don't feel sad. I haven't cried at all this week, have you noticed?"

Her sister thought for a second. "We all grieve differently, Ingrid. It might take longer for you to really feel it. But don't worry," she said, standing up, "when it happens, we'll make sure you get through it." She gave her younger sister a quick hug and headed for the door, but then stopped. "Oh, and if you're worried that everyone thinks you don't care about Mom being gone, well…I know it's not true. And Dad knows it's not true either. So let them think what they want." Ingrid looked up questioningly, but Ariella smiled at her. "Good night, sis."