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Anna will never be able to erase this memory, kicking it aside like it doesn’t bother her is her best solution. She lives her everyday life being happy over walking throughout the streets, that makes her skin crawl and her head drop to look down at the floor. She says hi to strangers pretending like she isn’t terrified of anything happening to her. She wants to be better, she actually does want to be genuinely happy, she doesn’t understand why she can’t but she always hears in her head, “I forbid.”

She was 17 years old, she felt like she was going down the right path,

“I love you.”

“I love you too. I hope you go wherever I go” He said.

She was head over heels, she felt the happiest with him, they would spend the last 2 years of high school just being within each other’s comfort. Her family never supported her when it came to him, they didn’t trust him and believed that he was going to be a bad influence. Anna was enraged, she would come home every night and lock herself in her room, not feeling happy or safe under her family’s roof. She could never forget this conversation, little did she knew, it was going to be the conversation that changed her life forever.

“Hey Ann.” Her dad walks into her room.

“Hi.” Ann said, looking down at her phone.

“We need to talk about your friend.” He says.

“My boyfriend? The person I love?” Ann says, putting down her phone.

“Your friend. I forbid you from seeing him.”

Anna gets up. “You will not forbid me from doing anything.” In a matter of a few minutes, Anna had her important items packed and she was out the door to be with her supposed love of her life. She never looked back and never cried.

Five years have passed since that day, that one day, now she shuts down, she sits in a small apartment, the walls are stained yellow, she sits lonely on a short bed. She looks around and does not feel happy, her belongings don’t feel like home, nothing she has feels like home. She finally understands why she’s not happy, she tries so hard to cover up and hide the most life defining moment and denies all of her emotions.

“Forbid”

The one word that drove Anna over the edge, the stuffing of her suitcase in rage and force. Her footsteps heavy as she leaves her room forever, remembering how many nights she spent angry, despising everything her family stood for. She moved on and believed this was her only way to be happy, little did she know, her being afraid of her own thoughts costed her a life  that was not full of regret.

Author’s note:

In this reconstruction of memory, this was a story that highlights a memory that I have experienced and feel like a lot of teenagers have felt during one point in their lives. It’s hard to identify and stay in tune with the emotions, when anger takes over one person. This story is about a girl who regrets something she has done, but one wrong move and she goes wrong.  To convey this memory effectively I wanted to reveal the character’s emotions to the memory using Kesey’s technique on being super descriptive and using descriptive language to tie the character’s emotions with the scene of memory. As well as revealing the character’s relationship to this memory and its significance using Atwood’s technique by repeating a certain moment or word that’ll point to its significance.

An image represents Anna in a spherical ball with holes it in, the air is leaking out of the ball and she is holding her breath, to symbolize that reality is hitting her, this memory is still stuck in her head, it’s not her choice to forget, this memory is not allowing for her to forget. She tries to build up this strong force around her and the image shows pieces of tape just attempting to patch up the holes and the damage.

We reached the room and crashed on the twin sized bed. Our clothes were ripped apart and there was dirt lining our faces. All I could think about was that bridge. I remember her telling us there wouldn’t be a problem. My head was buried in the pillows, the only thing I could imagine was the pulling, and the lights.

That night the town was lit up for festivities. This is where we were at first, lighting sparklers and giving life to the abandoned halls. Barbara told us of this day. This was the one day that there was light on this street. Other days were overshadowed with broken street lamps and empty buildings. Barbara looked up to the dark mountain, pointed, and said that was our goal. So we followed, not knowing where or when we’d be back, or if the light would persist. This uncertainty was frightening. The road we walked on was winding and losing its way. A light was on. It revealed a towering spiral staircase. We weren’t to step on it, once someone steps on it, it buries into the ground with its crumbling rust. The other side was steep and daunting. So we went up, holding on to the stone of the Neretva water treatment plant, hoping the moisture wouldn’t result in a long fall. My hands were trembling with this fear, Barbara said it would be okay, but the trembling wouldn’t stop. There were screams from above telling us to continue, screams we couldn’t recognize, so we went up until there was a cage, hoping to ignore the loud noises surrounding us. The cage was in the shape of a cube with rusting green paint giving it color. The darkness didn’t reveal any inhabitants, and no noise that would hint to these screams. So it was safe to climb over, holding on to the small openings it gave, furthering our exploration closer to the screams. Again, we went higher until we could see the other side of the bridge. Barbara looked at me, “That’s where we’re going.” Her finger directed us to the other side, with large square gaps in the center. There were letters all over it, in different colors and sizes. I guess it was the words of those who were there before us, warning of the trek. The screams seemed to be of the same genre. Warnings. Warnings Barbara wouldn’t take. She swore it was still safe. None were in our language, so none proved useful. Looking to the forest there was darkness, looking to the town there was a circle of fire, glowing. I wished we went back, when the light was still there. The holes were big and under them was a heavy stream of water coming from the treatment center. Splashes rose like there was life under, some world we were interfering with. Our legs fell over the ledges and felt the nips from the waves pushing them different ways. Our legs crashed into each other. Our legs felt the movement of the monster. Our legs were the ones who knew.

I felt a grab pull me under the stream, it grabbed on to Barbara too. We were under, looking for oxygen to give us life. What was pulling us under? Our limbs crashed into eachother as our clothes were being shredded and faces brushed the mud below. We kept going and going down the stream. How long were we under? I don’t know. There was light on the other side, I could see it, but my focus was on breathing. In and out. In and out. My face peaked the water, I saw the light. Barbara pulled me out of the water all at once. My eyes went black.

That was all I remember. I wish I remembered more, how my clothes got shredded, who was the monster doing that? Now I’m safe. I’m on the twin bed. I’m safe.

Here I am, all dressed in an uncomfortable black outfit. The weather is fitting for the day. It’s raining, really heavily might I add. My father with a slightly stone cold face. Trying to pretend like he isn’t hurting right now. The surrounding people dressed in black, holding umbrellas and tissues. The man standing next to Dimitri is giving a speech, his words, along with the sobs of others began to grow fuzzy. He’s a cruel, cruel man. My cruel brother. Leaving me all alone.

Outside, I was forced outside. His shouts could be heard by the neighbors. Tears rolling down my face, as I crouched to the ground, hands covering my ears. My eyes were tightly shut. A curdling scream released. In the distance I could see my father frantically trying to call someone. Help.

“Bastard! This is your fault!” His voice was filled with hatred. It wasn’t… It wasn’t my fault! I had nothing to do with this! I need to help him… I was like trying to reach out, yet he wouldn’t grab my hand. I can’t hold onto him any longer. The window now shattered out of rage. My heart was beating fast, my breathing was labored. My eyes forced open, taking one good look at Dimitri. My eyes locked with his, never leaving the brown eyes that once shined. Dimitri wouldn’t listen, he kept screaming. Placing all blame on us. Guilt… It was eating at my stomach. I knew, I knew I shouldn’t be guilty. Yet, with him screaming at me. Taunting me. I couldn’t help it. Time went slower than normal. The screams stopped. My body shot up. Dimitri could no longer be seen from the window and I didn’t hear footsteps on the stairs. Dimitri… The only person I cared about. Feet running as fast as possible to the door. Not caring if I stepped on glass and bleed.

“Dimitri! Dimitri! Open the door! Please! Please, let me know you’re okay!” I dryly shouted, pounding on the door. Fresh tears running down my face once more. No answer.

I tried to escape from a house to find a home. I kept looking over my shoulder the paranoia was getting to me, suddenly I heard a voice.

“Did you think you could hide forever?” I didn’t but it was worth was a shot.

“I’m your dad and you have to listen to what I tell ya. That’s the way it is. I don’t want you to be a loser like you loser mom’s side of the family. You’re a Jones not a Williams,” The same speech I heard dozens of times before. Of all the places he could be, he was here and found me, just my luck. I do the other thing I’ve ever done my whole life, run. I run because I refuse to be controlled. I refuse to allow someone to be antagonized their whole and put up with it, only to have their abuser wear the victim’s mask. I refuse to allow someone to lie about their former spouse having affair in order to manipulate their family. I refuse to be a Jones.

“Get back here!” he yelled when about ten feet back when I initially bursted into sprint. There’s no turning back. I ran until I didn’t see him anymore, and I kept running after that. I could never be sure I wasn’t just running away from family mistreatment anymore. I was running from the slight part of me that resembles him. I’m running from the man I’m afraid I’ll become. I’m running from the future I fear more than anything. I’m running from a man that’s been running from himself.

“You thought you could outrun me?” He came out of nowhere The anger in his face was enough to start a war itself. He cocked his arm all the way back and right before I’m hit that’s when I awake.

This reoccurring nightmare happened again. Even when he can’t control me I allowed myself to be scarred by him. Although this moment happened years ago I’m only able to remember it on a good day and on a bad day I relive it.

I remember when the doctor told me I wasn’t going to live. I was an overweight man living in Detroit, living in an average house with my wife and child. While I was overweight, I still tried to get to the gym on weekends, and when ever I had freetime. I wasn’t the best with working out, but I always made sure I ran a few miles on the treadmill. I thought it would be interesting to try out running and see if I could lose some weight as well. The next summer after I started training I had already set up the idea to run a half marathon by some point in my life.

By the second month of training, I was starting to be really proud of myself. I had been doing some long runs, and at that point my farthest run had been nine miles. I was happy, and so was my wife, everything was going great. Until the doctor visit the next week.

I had gone to the doctor after work one day because I felt a little bit like I was starting to get the flu. I got to the doctor’s office and described how I was feeling to the doctor. The doctor said “Well… it might be a cold, but I just want to check if it could be something else. Would you mind taking an mri really quick?” I said sure, and got into the machine. The mri ended a few minutes later, and the doctor came into the room with a sad look on his face.

“I’m so sorry… it’s what I thought it might be. You have blood cancer.”