It was warm, but cold in places, I curled my toes, it was cold there. Memories seeped in slowly and I patiently waited for them. They had started last year, I was sitting at the creek, with my friends and the flowing sound of the water awakened memories I didn't know I had, memories I know I shouldn't of had, for I sensed I was nothing but a baby in any of them, and no one remembered things from that early of childhood … did they?
And it was funny but it almost made sense of the whispers behind my back, though the words were always muffled just before they reached my ears. Sometimes I didn't know what they said, or which voices said it even, but sometimes they just didn't make any sense, I didn't really mind, it was interesting. Maybe I was clairvoyant, and these were not memories, but visions of the future. I snapped out of it, I was sitting in a dilapidated plaid easy chair, listening to the soft staccato of the snow falling on the roof … tap, tap, tap, it reminds me of something … something I cannot quite remember. The little memories annoy me, for I cannot figure them out, blue eyes like my own, light brown hair, laughter, a name. Belinda. Where did that come from, why do I hear my name in a voice other than my mothers? I look at the clock its midnight now; I can't see through the window anymore, it's too black, the light in the corridor is reflecting upon it, making it difficult to see anything but a reflection.
I sit out here every single night and try to remember something, someone. An aunt, a grandmother? A sister perhaps, a babysitter. And the man, the man with the dark hair, like mine, with glimmering green eyes, or was it blue eyes? Maybe I was remembering a brother and sister, or a husband and wife. Yes, that's it, husband and wife. How though, I couldn't have been more than an infant when I last saw them.
A wispy sound came, a flutter of the ivory draperies in the den. I got up from the chair and stood in the entryway of the den, the wind from outside had made the room cold with winter air, it bit at my warm skin. I picked up some papers that had fluttered off the pine desk, and settled them back on with a rock paperweight. A bluish light from outside played on my hands; I opened the curtain and peeked out the open window. It was a wonder it wasn't colder, snow was still thick from yesterday, and the sky was cloudy and starless, it only revealed part of the full moon, then none as a cloud shifted and covered it. I shut the window, the edges of the papers stopped fluttering. I closed the curtains.
I turned and caught my breath; my brother David stood there, his arms folded. He was handsome, no lie, but he kind of gave me an ashamed dirty feeling sometimes. He was too handsome. He had blonde hair and brown eyes that glittered with flecks of green and gold, his arms were strong as were his legs, he was tall and looked powerful, like my father, he had a broad roman nose, and a light un-freckled complexion.
"What's the matter Lindy? Fell asleep in that chair again?" David had always called me Lindy; he knew I hated the name Belinda.
"No, I was thinking. Remember what I told you about that man and woman that I remember? The pretty woman with blue eyes and light-brown hair, the tall man with dark hair … I saw them again. I heard her say my name, I think."
"You must be remembering something else, or imagining it. There's no way you could remember something from when you were that young."
"I tell you, David, it's from when I was a baby, maybe Mom had a sister that she never told us about or some—"
"Lindy, you watch too many soap operas with Mom."
I sighed; I didn't watch very much television at all in reality. David just didn't believe me. He read my eyes, and replied. "No, I believe you, you just make too big of a deal of it."
"I will never know until I ask our Mother."
I looked up at the ceiling, and got distracted by the texture on it, it was kind of shaped like clouds on a sky. David looked up too then looked at me. "You going up to bed?"
"No."
"Suit yourself." he walked up the stairs to his bedroom. Looking back one time with worry in his eyes.
I sat back in the chair, the room smelled strongly of vanilla. For some reason David always smelled of vanilla. He didn't even need cologne; I never smell of anything … well I guess I must, everyone smells like something. I merely smell like everything else I suppose.
I heard that snow again, it had stopped for a second, or I had stopped listening to it. I turned out the light so I could see out the window, that sound. The ocean. But I had never been to the ocean … how could I remember it? I closed my eyes. Big blue Ocean, my breath caught, a sailboat. I opened my eyes. It had to be real … how else could I remember this? How else would it constantly riddle my mind? An oozing sickness rolled through my stomach. My eyes drooped. I realized I was tired. I walked up the stairwell to my room, to fall asleep. Once in my room I looked in the mirror, tears were on my cheeks … I felt them to make sure they were there. I hadn't realized I was crying. I looked closer at the mirror, and thought I saw a reflection of somebody behind me. I turned it was no one. Only the reflections on the mirror.
I went back to getting ready for bed, I put on silky pajamas and crawled into bed, a small terror crept up my back, the oozing sick feeling came back. What if I was adopted, and these people were my real parents? I had to find out … but then again these small memories could be deceiving like the reflection on the glass, with that I fell into a dreamless sleep wanting never to be awakened.
