Page 2 of Twisted Thorns

Claire sighs, and her forehead burrows in sadness, but I know she understands me.

Of all my friends, Claire is the only one I remember. She's my childhood best friend, and I've been following her infectious smile and carefree spirit into trouble since we were both toddlers.

Before the accident, I worked with Claire at the art gallery. It seems like we've done everything together in life, including going to the same college and getting art history degrees.

Apparently, college is where we met Amanda and Jessica, who both studied fashion design.

Claire has been my lifeline through these interactions with Amanda and Jessica, who I only remember through stories I'm told. But in moments like this, Claire feels further apart than ever.

In a lot of ways, Claire feels like the opposite of me now - her with her light blonde hair and baby blue eyes, always cheerful and outgoing. Meanwhile, I feel like a wallflower. I wonder if I felt like this before the accident. I wonder if I just hid my feelings then better than I do now.

"Okay," Claire says gently, pulling me into a hug. "Just promise you won't totally disappear on us."

"I promise." I hug her back, grateful for her understanding but knowing that my journey to rediscover myself will be a solitary one. After all, I'm the only one who can't remember the past five years. Even though my friends have shown me pictures and videos, it still doesn't piece together the gaps in my mind.

Everyone else may not want to admit it, but having that chunk of time lost did more than make it impossible to remember things. It changed who I am. From what I can piece together, I don't have the same interest as I did before the accident, and it's driving a wedge between who I am and who everyone expects me to be.

Pulling my phone from my pocket, I type out a text to the girls letting them know I'm headed home, walking to my car as I send it. I know it's cowardly, but I just don't have it in me to face their disappointment again. I want to be the Avalina they remember, but I just don't know who that is anymore.

The drive home is a blur, as my warring emotions have me on autopilot during the short drive to the edge of town where my apartment is. Parking my car in its numbered spot, I look up at the building my apartment is in. The lower half of the building is encased in red brick, while the second and third floors are accented with siding in cream and robin egg blue as you go up. Balconies peek out from various apartments, with large windows overlooking the manicured walking trails and playgrounds. Most would say these luxury apartments are prized for their designer kitchens and bathrooms, or the resort-style pool. I just wanted my apartment to be on the first floor, as close to the forest behind the complex as possible.

I visit the woods almost daily now, and a part of me wants to visit them now, but the darkening gray sky promises rain. Grabbing my purse, I slide out of my car and drag myself towards my door, sighing as I step into the welcoming space, breathing in the scent of jasmine and sandalwood. All I want to do is relax, but my muscles feel tense, like they're bracing for the next disaster. Now that the adrenaline has worn off, I can feel my mind slipping into old habits, wanting to berate myself for not being able to go along with what my friends want.

I step into my kitchen to make some tea when a knock sounds at my door. Opening it, I find the familiar face of my younger sister, Iris. Iris and I look similar, both with copper colored hair and green eyes, but Iris shines with an optimism that lights up any room.

A smile spread across her face as she catches sight of me, her hair cut in a pixie cut that frames her delicate features.

"Hey, Avie," she greets me, stepping inside and enveloping me in a hug. "How are you holding up?"

"Surviving," I sigh, feeling the weight of my recent conversation with Claire. I have a hunch that conversation is why Iris is here, but I decide to wait it out, at least for now. "I was just going to make some tea. Do you want some?"

Iris makes a shooing motion, moving me away from the kitchen and into the small living room. "You sit down. I'll make the tea."

I know my sister is up to something, but I let her take over as a mother hen, curling up on the couch under my favorite purple throw. Being only a couple of years younger than me, Iris and I share a lot of the same friends, something that annoyed me when we were younger, but now I'm grateful for. Iris helps fill in the gaps in my memory and often makes suggestions for how I can try to reconnect with my friends again. While our parents love us, they are out of town a lot, going on elaborate vacations now that they are retired. Without them around recently, Iris has taken on the role of big sister and mother hen all in one.

Conan, my brown tabby cat, meows at me before he leaps up and begins kneading the soft blanket. Petting Conan, I look around the small space. It isn't much, but it's all mine and that's what matters to me. It's a one-bedroom apartment with a kitchen just big enough to cook in that opens to the living area. Everything is light wood and soft pillows and blankets, all in the muted hues of a spring sunrise. Pale sky blue walls are accented with buttery lace curtains, a lilac knitted throw tossed over a cream couch dotted with creamsicle and rose floral pillows.

But the best part? The floor to ceiling bookshelves I had installed on the longest wall in the living room, overflowing with novels. A stack of books on Celtic mythology and fables sits on the coffee table, dried flowers and leaves acting as bookmarks.

I watch my sister boil water and rummage around my tea cabinet, pulling down my favorite mug. "Let me guess, Claire called you?"

"Listen," she says, pulling away from her task, her eyes shining with determination. "I've been thinking about how we can help you reconnect with the girls. What if we plan a getaway? Just us and them, spending some quality time together."

I inwardly groan. I wasn't ready to have this conversation. Perhaps I wouldn't ever be ready to have this conversation. I feel like a broken doll everyone is trying to mend. I pick at the threads of the blanket, my hands eager to do something.

"Maybe," I hesitate, the thought of facing my friends' expectations again makes my stomach churn.

But I know that Iris only has my best interests at heart, and the idea of escaping the city for a while holds a certain appeal. And Iris has been my rock since the accident, helping me feel comfortable being just where I am at.

"I think it will be good for you, Avie." she insists, bringing over two steaming mugs of tea. "Some time away from all the things that remind you of the accident. Think of it like a fresh start with your friends."

"Okay," I reluctantly agree, knowing that if anyone could help me bridge the gap between my old life and my new reality, it's Iris. While I appreciate her help, I know I'll have to fly on my own soon.

Chapter 2

Avalina

Last night was another sleepless night, but this time, instead of nightmares, it was my guilt plaguing me. Rubbing my eyes, I try to wipe the exhaustion away, along with my doubt. Was I too harsh with Amanda? She was trying to be a good friend and include me. Maybe I was just getting in my own way.

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