Sitting on the bay window bench while nursing a hot cup of tea, my mind is in quiet contemplation.

Much has happened since I last saw JT. The first morning at my new house, a barrage of women found me asleep outside my home. Talk about embarrassing. I wonder what explanation they came up with for my bizarre behavior. Whatever it was, it had to be better than mine. I still hadn't figured out that part.

And even though JT had filled them in on what needed to be done, communication was a mess! They weren't fluent in English, and I had no clue what they were saying. Despite the hiccups, by nightfall, the house was sparkling and felt livable for the first time. Their assistance had been much appreciated!

That first night at home was awkward. It had taken me barely ten minutes to settle my meager belongings. A mattress on the floor of the largest room with the pretty bay windows, a few pots and pans in the kitchen, and a cupboard to hold my clothes. The day had been filled with chatter since the women spoke mostly among themselves. Although unfamiliar, their prattle had been comforting. My small link to the human world. The night, however, was in stark contrast. It was just the crickets and me. Another alien language that I didn't understand and a conversation I couldn't be part of!

When boredom settled in, I took to walking around the house like a ghost. With nothing to do and even less to look at, I let my mind wander. My frustration was beginning to drown me. It was chipping away at the courage I had mustered. My resolve was weakening. Never having been a stranger to seclusion, this change shouldn't have been so hard. But I found myself craving for some company. Wanting to get away from Tom had been a huge thing for me. I was beginning to see myself as separate from him and to complete that transition; I had concluded that I needed my space. Why couldn't I have picked a quaint neighborhood somewhere in England? Why did it have to be almost halfway across the world and in a country where everything was so alien to me? In doing so, not only had I jumped into the fire by leaving my comfortable life, I had carried a mother-load of gasoline with me!

Was I afraid that I would find myself weakening? That I would go crawling back to Tom when things got difficult? Or was I concerned that Tom wouldn't let me leave? I didn't have all the answers. But I was beginning to realize that there was a massive difference in being introverted and in being an alien. At least with the former, I could choose to step out of my shell. Had I set myself up for failure without knowing it?

Not wanting to indulge my mind further, I resigned myself to the mattress. Attaching my phone to the charger, I browsed the few games available. When nothing caught my attention, I closed my eyes and sighed. Fortunately, sleep didn't take long to claim me; despite the nightmare of the previous night.

Over the next few days, I had taken to roaming the market, scouring for deals. I had already flooded my bathroom with an impressive array of hair products, and cleaning essentials. An electric kettle sat grandly in my kitchen, surrounded by packets of milk powder, coffee, and instant noodles. On the floor adjacent to my mattress, was a growing pile of books and crossword puzzles.

My mind, however, was relentless in its pursuit to keep me distracted. Every empty and dull moment and there were a lot of those; I found myself thinking about JT. And about our time together. How was it that we had hit it off so well together? Was I running away from one man only to end up in the arms of another? Did I feel that way about JT? Could one encounter with someone be that powerful? Truly? Had my time with Tom jaded me so severely that I couldn't envision a future with another man?

I must confess, by the fourth day, I felt I would go stark raving mad if I didn't have a decent conversation with somebody... anybody. And something told me that perhaps I already was well on my way to the brink of insanity. After all, my memory was beginning to give way. Like the time I left the towel on the floor, only to later, find it hanging up. Or the time I threw the keys on the kitchen counter and heard them clang as they slid over the smooth slab and connect with the floor. When I needed them again, I didn't spot them on the floor. Instead, they were back on the counter. And I was sure that I didn't make an effort to put them in their place. Also, there was the time that I kept finding the front door wide open! The first few times I thought the wind was throwing them open and I checked and double checked the locks. However, each time I walked past the doors, there they were, open again. Since I was the only occupant, what other explanation could there be except I was becoming more and more forgetful with each passing day?

And of course, the nightmare. I still shudder at the thought of it.

Resolved to do something different, I put on my trainers and watched the mountainside pass by in a whirl of colors as my legs carried me to the training grounds.

I sat in the same spot as the last time; a tiny rock obscured from the main road by lush undergrowth. I remember watching the cars whizz past and the people stroll by. That day, the wind ruffled my hair gently while the sun played hide-and-seek with the clouds.

When a group of young men stepped into the training grounds, my eyes eagerly sought his familiar face. Hope soared and along with it, anxiety. What would I say? How would I approach him? Would he consider me weak? Desperate even? Disappointment swallowed me whole, and I felt my hope crash when I didn't connect with familiar cheeky chocolate brown eyes. I remember standing when my behind got sore. I remember pacing when my patience thinned. In that time, several groups of trainees had made their way in and out of the field; all of whom performed the same drill. After the longest time ever, I had come to accept that perhaps picking up the phone might have gotten me the results I so desperately sought.

When I had truly given up all hope of meeting JT, I trudged back home. This time, however, I took the longer route that carried me past the market. I exchanged a few polite greetings with shopkeepers that were beginning to recognize me and temporarily, I felt content. Some of that frustration had taken a back seat.

All that changed, however, when the plain red tiles of my house loomed as I turned the corner. It was as if I was on an emotional see-saw. A part of me was tired and seeking the reassurance of those four walls. And yet, there was another part of me that desperately sought some distance. I wondered where those strong feelings had gone. The ones that first greeted me when I stood before the house. Hadn't I felt welcomed? Didn't the house ooze a sense of familiarity? Didn't it promise me happiness?

Looking up at the sky, I noticed colossal grey tufts. When had the clouds become so dense? This was not London, and I couldn't tell whether it was going to rain or hail or snow! The weather was as unfamiliar to me as everything else.

A strong gale picked up somewhere, and it seemed to push me towards the muddy path that led downhill. With one last glance at the house, I turned and let the wind carry me. Nothing had changed since I last traversed the path with JT. How could it? I hadn't done anything aside from settling the house – if you could call it that.

With each step that I took, the skies got darker and darker. Pretty soon it began thundering, and lightning streaked across the sky. As the first drops floated down, common sense screamed at me to return to the house. After all, who in their right mind would want to get caught on an unfamiliar mountainside in the pouring rain? However, there was something else as well. Something that whispered in my ear and encouraged my feet to carry me further downhill.

That voice was soft, non-threatening and it seemed to be pleading with me. Like there was something it desperately needed me to see. And so, I bottled up my common sense and shoved it in the corner of my mind. This was my house, my property and if I felt like a stroll in the rain, then so be it! What I hadn't counted on was for the light shower to turn into a massive downpour! Within minutes, tiny puddles grew larger and larger, turning into thin rivers that carried needles and mud down the mountainside.

Before I could change my mind, I was soaked. So did it really matter if I turned back or continued?

Halfway down, the old cemetery came across my path. The two tombstones shone in the lightning, and that creepy, sad feeling bore down on me once again. Up until that time, I had been enjoying the chill from the rain and the mystery of the dark forest around me. There was just no more place for sadness, disappointment, loneliness or any of the other feelings that had taken to residing in the house with me over the past few days.

With that thought, I slammed on the breaks, not wanting to venture closer to the cemetery. Fate or something else more sinister laughed cruelly at me then. My feet slipped, and I went crashing down into a muddy puddle. I didn't have time to reflect on how my behind was smarting from the fall for the tiny rivers and the sludge they carried, transported me further downhill. Wiping the rain from my eyes, I tried calming my racing heart and erratic breath. Think! My mind screamed at me. Think! Being tossed around the mountainside like a feather in the wind was not something I had experienced before. I was growing numb with fear, and I found myself at a loss for something intelligent to do. Every inch of me screamed for the descent to stop. My nails cracked and filled with sticky wet muck as I sank my fingers into the soil desperately hoping that would slow me down.

The wind picked up a loud noise and carried it to me. It circled me like a predator would its prey. It was all around me, closing in on me, growing louder and louder till my ears couldn't take it anymore. I gave up trying to catch on to something and instead decided to shield my ears from the sound. Was it thunder or an evil laugh? I couldn't tell. But I felt like I was being taught a lesson. My stubbornness pitted me against nature, and I was losing. With nothing else to do, I closed my eyes and screamed.

Agony snaked up my legs as my feet connected with the cemetery gates, flinging them open. Suddenly, all movement halted, and I found myself lying still. So very still. My screaming had stopped and so had the thunder. The rain began receding, and stars timidly gawked down at me. A bright spot here and then another there and yet another next to the first two. Pretty soon the clouds had disappeared, and the entire sky was glimmering. It was so surreal!

The faintest traces of courage still lingered somewhere inside me. And clinging to that like a crutch, I took a peek around me. I hadn't traveled far, of that I was glad. I noticed the end of the mountainside just beyond the fencing. I had never been beyond this point. So how was I to have known?

Bollocks! Realization hit me then. Had it not been for the cast iron fencing, I would have gone tumbling downhill. I couldn't see how far the drop was and physically, I felt relieved without that knowledge. But thoughts of my broken, mangled body lying somewhere hidden by undergrowth didn't help the situation. For the first time in a long time, I was terrified.

Looking away from the dark abyss, my eyes land on the tombstones. They were grey with age. Lichen grew up the corners and weeds snaked up the front. The inscriptions stood out as bright white against the murky grey, but I couldn't read anything from where I was sitting.

I shuddered. I never did like cemeteries. I always felt like I didn't belong, even though I was visiting out of respect for loved ones. And this one was no different more so because I was invading. These weren't graves of my family. These were strangers, and I had no business being here.

But then again my house had been empty for years. These graves were as forgotten as I was. My heart lurched at that thought. These were graves of real people. People that once meant the entire world to somebody. Somebody who had loved them enough to want them close by even after their death. And they didn't deserve to be forgotten!

Hanging on to what little courage I had left, I stood up and limped towards the graves. The soil squelched beneath my feet. Oh, how I despised that sound! A shiver found its way up and down my spine adding to the eeriness of the night. I crouched before the closest one. It was the larger of the two. With trembling hands, I reached for the weeds that obscured the inscription from my sight.

As my fingertips brushed over the dull green leaves of the weeds, that soft voice was back, encouraging me again. I stopped. My mind was racing. Was I here by accident? Or did something bring me here? Were the two voices I heard today a part of my imagination? The more I thought about what I was about to do, the queasier I felt.

I withdrew my shaking hand. I wasn't going forward with this. Not tonight. Not anytime soon!

Just then the wind picked up again. The weeds tossed around, and a word peeked out from behind the weeds!

Gwen...