Remember Me

I arrived late to the funeral, as the service had already started. Connor came with me, and we looked ridiculous, because everyone was dressed in black. We were practically clowns compared to them. I stood next to my dad, with Connor on the other side of me. Everyone was on the verge of tears, other than me. I’d probably be bawling heavily if I remembered her. Hell, I didn’t even know what she looked like. I might as well not be here. The wind was blowing stubbornly, as if it were a child and we weren’t paying enough attention to it. Hair flew, as well as one woman’s skirt. I almost laughed, but I realized that’d be horribly inappropriate and more embarrassing than a clothing malfunction. I instead settled for a breathy chuckle that sounded like I could’ve been crying.

My dad went up to say a few words, and, much like the warm air at Target, everything was done rather quickly. No one really talked to me, other than my dad. He only told me goodbye before he left, though.

Connor held my hand the whole time, and as we left, I said, “I feel like such an ass.” Connor sighed.

“It’s alright, Shiv.” I ignored him.

“I mean, I showed up to my mother’s funeral late, with not a spot of black on me. And then I almost started laughing during it! That’s awful, Connor! It’s awful!” I stopped walking, tearing my hand from his so I could put it to my own face in shame. I was throwing a stupid little tantrum, yes, but I really didn’t care. I was about ready to throw myself onto the ground and furiously kick my feet into the wet earth until I felt satisfied. He didn’t bother to console me with words this time, instead, he hugged me. His smell was nice, musky, but still like vanilla.

I stayed limp, and suddenly, I felt like someone had spooked me. My insides seemed to jump, and then it was like I looked into my own mind. Like a movie was playing, and I was only watching.

“Shiv, the cookies are ready!” I then realized I was watching it through someone else’s eyes as I found them going towards the kitchen. The woman in there was my mother, and it dawned on me that I was the person here. This was a memory of mine. I decided to take everything in, and noticed how warm it seemed to be there in the kitchen, and that it smelt like batter and sugar and… vanilla. That’s what must have triggered the memory.

I saw as I reached out to grab one, eager, and my mother smiled at me.

And that’s where it ended, the exact same time that Connor let go of me. My head was spinning and pounding, I could feel my heart thudding against my ribcage. I took a step backwards dizzily, finding my footing a moment later.

“Siobhan, are you okay?” I took in a deep breath, and I knew I was making a scene. Connor had told me while eating ice cream that I had always been one for dramatics.

“Shiv,” he said, but didn’t continue. He probably didn’t know what to say, in this surreal situation. He is a boy, after all.

I debated on whether or not to tell him. The trees around me seemed more grey than green, and up might as well have been down. I didn’t dare look at Connor’s face; instead I focused on a patch of dirt in the grass. It was muddy and ugly, a dark brown color. I squished it a little more with my yellow flats, pushing the tip into the soil. I was wearing flats because I didn’t know how to tie my shoes. Pathetic, yes, but it was too difficult, and whenever Connor tried to show me, I felt ashamed and childish, so I told him to stop and that it didn’t matter. It’s quite sad, though, because I have a pair of adorable teal Converse sitting in my closet.

“Shiv,” Connor repeated, his voice slicing through my thoughts. An orange ladybug crawled over the little bit of dirt, scuttling until it reached the grass and disappeared again. I cleared my throat, the sound loud and awkward.

“Yes?” I knew playing dumb wasn’t going to help with anything, but I could always try. I scanned the green beneath me, looking out for an orange bug.

“What happened? Are you alright?” Feeling rather guilty, I decided not to tell him. Sure, he was great and seemed pretty trustworthy. But I just didn’t want to.

“I’m fine; I just got a little sickly there. I’m good, let’s go.” I stepped forward, looking only ahead of me, hoping I was convincing. I’m apparently a drama queen, so I must be good at acting, right? As Connor sped up to match my pace, I looked down and saw a speck of orange that seemed to flash and grab my attention, luring me in until it disappeared again half a second later.



I couldn’t breathe well, my head hurt, and I had this weird feeling behind my nose.

I was sick, and it was basically a shitty day. My feet were frozen and numb because I went outside to get the mail in my slippers, so the water from the freshly rained upon concrete seeped into them. I took them off, but the effects wore on, like the chill in the air had wrapped around my skin.

I hadn’t remembered anything else since the cookies thing, and it stressed me out. I wanted to know. I wished I could have all of those memories back again. I spent most of my time looking through photos and staring at the décor in my apartment, trying to find a trigger. It didn’t help that Gabby kept calling me, talking to me like I knew her amazingly well—it was like she kept imagining us as best friend forever, or something. Connor had been on my case since the funeral, and not to be a bitch, but it was getting annoying. I felt claustrophobic lately, he was around a lot. Yeah, he was really awesome, but I needed a little space. I felt as if I’d been trapped in my own fucking birdcage necklace. I didn’t like that he would pry but then not tell me about my life when I asked. He told me things that meant nothing. I guess I had cried when I got a D on my math test, and I also used to trade my oranges for another girl’s grapes, pretty much every day.

But it didn’t have any importance, really. Not that I wasn’t grateful, but still. He told me the doctor said he shouldn’t give out too much information like that, because it would stress me out. I was already stressed out, though, so I don’t really think it’d really matter that fucking much.

Just saying.