RIPPED
The situation limited our circle to quite a few number of over-familiar faces of whom almost all of them were also as thirsty as we were for the very same different thing we didn't have. Martha could not hide her frustration anymore when it became impossible to explore the fantasies she had clutched on to coming from her teen. "We want to succeed and leave home but we are taking careful steps to achieve it. If we don't, you won't stand a chance at freedom yourself. You should never know what it's like not being able to walk into a random mall to pick your favorite magazine, grab a box of pizza or have a fancied trendy hairdo as a grown-up, for the simple reason that the shop is open for the public." "You should just leave already. What's the overemphasized carefulness for? Someone who wants to leave should simply load the trucks and hit the road! "It's not exactly that simple, sist. There are some things that don't make it that easy" "…some things of the same past occurrence forbidden of anyone to speak about because I don't deserve to know about it, yeah?" "Yeah…I mean, no! You deserve to know…she exhaled the rest of her thoughts in a big snort. She rather walked up and snuggled me tenderly. She has been particularly supportive regardless. She said it in every hug, every smile and in the many snorts. I yielded and collapsed into her embrace, burying my head in her bosom momentarily. She smelt nice from a familiar perfume brand. "That's Carnal Flower, isn't it" I asked pointedly, mildly excited. "Oh, wow, yes! She interjected, visibly elated. "You remember that, she returned, yelling in a childlike bliss. 'You remember that,' were fast becoming the most frequently used words in my home lately. Each time the question popped, it tugged gruffly on the faded past we all yearned would return which has persistently shown no signs of returning. How much I liked the depth of warmth it evoked and the way it twisted the lips of those who asked them into smiles. It fueled me to make hard efforts to scavenge whatever they believed I should know, but each new demand made on the brain churned out the same old result- a confirmation that the file had been erased completely from my memory. First, it was my father asking if I remembered a certain horse at the stable when we went to pick horses for a ride few days back. I had gone for Lina, the horse I have ridden coming from the days when I was younger. I watched in utter joy, as his mouth parted wide in unashamed excitement as he howled out a loud lone tone that had no clear word meaning. It didn't need to. The happiness that spurred it was all mattered to me. "Ulallah! You could remember that? Lina, do you remember her?" He yelled pointing poignantly at the docile animal. Like with Martha earlier today, that day, I simply grinned helplessly as my memory immediately left for vacation, assuring that its tricks lingered. I got on with the riding while he gave a hot chase behind inciting the animal with clicks of his tongue. It baffled me how I knew the horse. It wasn't my instinct; I knew Lina and still remembered I won prizes with her but grossly lacked the ability to recall any of the events where we won trophies. I ardently wished I could remember people, especially those I won against with Lina. However, there was hope; just a glimpse of it, offered in the event of earlier today.
