1Thank you to stormgirl13 for helping me edit this story and typing it because i suck at typing! Yay!
Over the next few days I wondered about the strange name and vision. Not a vision, exactly, I thought, more like a memory. But a memory of something that had never happened to me. I stared up at the ceiling, overwhelmed by memories of things that I was sure had happened to me...
The only thing I could remember about the day I was born was pain. Not my own pain, but my mothers she didnt want another kid.
How did I feel her pain... I wasnt really sure. My dad said it was a gift. I could always feel other peoples pain. But it was a gift I would gladly have gone without.
When I was in first or secont grade, Carrie, the only friend I ever had, was being teased by Austin Devrole.
I could feel her her pain, and I punched him. I felt like Id been punched myself. That was the first- and last- time I ever intentionally hurt anyone. After that I distanced myself from others, knowing that if I cared about them, their pain would hurt twice as much. The only person I couldnt stop caring about was my dad, who unlike my mom, had loved me since I was born.
Remembering my life, I thought of other things that hadnt happened to me.
...I was running through long, soft grass, ruffled by a slight breeze...
...Birds soared accross the sky as I watched them, clinging to the top of the pine Id climbed, my hands sticky with dirt and sap...
...I lay on a hard floor, covered by blankets. Through a small window, I could see the stars, thousands of them, bright against a velvety, dark blue. Somewhere, nearby I heard the crackle of a fire...
Each memory brought a feeling of peace, and something else. In memories, the pain was gone. And something else. Something had been missing, but when I tried to reach for it there was only pain. Pain overpowering my mind and body, until I was left with a crippling head ache, and a raging fever.
Somehow, I knew I had to get to the place where those memories were, but I didnt know how.
Suddenly, I found myself sneaking out of the house and into the front yard. My dad was looking out one of the windows, calling my name.
No I whispered to myself, Anna isnt my name. Shariya is
Then I turned and ran.