*-.·∘,.·∘'.˚∙.·∘;.∘ '∘,
*.·∘ CHAPTER FOUR: THE MEMORIES OF A LOST GIRL ˚∙.·∘
,∘' ∘.;∘·.·˚.'∘·.,∘·.-*

THE BLARING OF an old alarm clock ripped Tea out of her sleep and made her jump, legs tangling in the constricting blankets which had wrapped around her. Her wounds stung and burned at the movement, and she tried to fall still once again. Tea raised her head from where it was pressed into the pillow, hair a dishevelled and frizzy hair around her face from where she'd tossed and turned in the night. The sunlight through Nancy's pastel curtains where filling the room with a sunset-pink hue and Nancy's bedsheets smelled of roses and lavender. It was sweet, in the same way that reminded her of the flowery feeling of her home.

          Nancy slammed her dainty fingers down on the alarm clock, turning the sound which had startled Tea off. "Sorry, sorry," Nancy tried to reassure Tea, while grumbling at the time. She touched Tea's shoulder briefly before flopping back into her bed on her back. The girl groaned, shoving her hands through her messy curls of hair. She forced herself to sit up, rubbing her blue eyes. Tea glanced over at her. "I graduate in just over a month," Nancy explained, yawning into the back of her hands. She stretched her hands towards the ceiling, the pyjama top she was wearing riding up to just reveal a sliver of her pale stomach. Tea stared a little and then looked away. "So, I can't really afford to miss a day."

          Tea nodded, burying her hands in the pastel duvet and twisting it absent-mindedly around her wrist. "Oh. Okay." She wasn't fond of the idea of being in a strange house all day, alone. What if she saw the monster, and this time couldn't get away? "Is there... something I could do while you're gone?" Tea managed slowly. "Like, book that I could read, or a film that I could watch?" Anything to distract herself from the impending anxiety she was already preparing for. She joltingly tucked some of her hair behind her prettily pointed ears and looked up at Nancy with her heavenly chocolate and honey eyes.

          Nancy blinked at the girl and her pretty, pretty face, lost in her own train of thought for a moment—before she was torn back to reality and nodded quickly, eyebrows ducking inwards and a smile curling up at the corners of her lips. "Yeah, of course, of course." She ran a quick hand through her head and stood quite abruptly, leaving Tea sitting on the bed alone. "All my books are in that shelf—feel free to take any one you want. And there's a TV in the basement where my brother keeps his movies. Watch anything." The girl pushed another hand through her brunette hair before grabbing her things and ducking into the bathroom to get ready.

          Tea went through Nancy's shelves as the brunette girl prepared herself for school, curling her hair, applying some makeup and slipping into her outfit for the day. Tea picked out a few books she had interest in, holding them in her arms as Nancy emerged from the en suite, looking far too gorgeous for Tea's nervous, confused heart.

          "Feel free to use the bath," Nancy said as she adjusted her perfect curls, grabbing the backpack hung at the end of her bed and throwing in some school books. "My Dad is out for work, and my little sister Holly will be with my mother all day. Roam the house all you want, but Mom will come back at 2, so make sure to stay hidden in my room or the basement. I'll be back at 3." She slipped the straps of her backpack over her shoulder, flattening the pretty white dress she wore. As Nancy neared her bedroom door, she turned back and looked at Tea with her angelic features, hand posed against the doorframe. "Um, be safe, okay?"

          Tea nodded, "I'll see you after school. Good luck." Dorotea should have been in class at this time anyway—she wondered what her teachers would be thinking of her right about now. How were her parents reacting? Tea reckoned the police must have already been called, and the thought made her clasp her fingers tightly together.

           Nancy Wheeler looked at the pretty girl standing in her room, still ridden with remnants from sleep, and who looked still lost, if less so than before. Then she nodded very slowly, stepping backwards. "See you then, Tea." Her hand moved up to press up her curls again before she ducked out of the door. Tea heard the girl retreat down the steps quickly, and the front door slam, and then Tea was alone.

         She took a very quick bath, keeping her eyes opened and turned towards the large bathroom the whole time. No way she was leaving her back exposed. When she'd gotten dressed in some clothes Nancy had left out for her, and tied her hair up into the towel, Tea went to make sure the house was empty.

          A clock ticked hollowly downstairs, sound rising from where she stood leaning over the second-story bannister. No other noise rippled through the house. So, after a few moments, Tea carefully descended down the carpeted stairs. She hadn't had a lot of time to observe the house when Nancy had been dragging her inside, and now she padded around carefully.

         In many ways, it reminded Dorotea of her own home: the gentle arching doorways; the soft, patterned wallpaper; a newspaper and mug of drunk coffee on the table by the La-Z-boy; scuff marks on the wood floor from where too many children had played around. It was a warm, strange feeling which hung in her chest like stars. The kitchen was prim and proper, just the way any American family wanted it to be, with utensils tucked carefully away in shelves and a bowl of fruit on the central island. Tea rummaged carefully through the pantry, trying to find something to eat while Nancy was gone. She stole a packet of Skittles and Mars Men before retreating. Hopefully the Wheeler family wouldn't notice the disappearance of the candy packets.

          After a few minutes of wandering the empty household, Tea descended into the basement as Nancy had suggested. The area was riddled with the remnants of teenage boys, which made sense since Nancy said her brother hung out here. There were blankets tossed over the floor, posters of the newest films stuck up on the walls and empty candy packets tossed haphazardly around. A stack of movies stood precariously beside the TV: Blade Runner, Poltergeist, and Return of the Jedi sitting on the top.

          As she stood there, she peered down at Stephen King's Carrie in her fingertips. She was turning the book to the first page when a memory shot through her. This memory was not in a warped, dizzy flash, nor a glimpse of another world which had or hadn't been—but something clear and vivid which resonated in Tea's bones and sung the song of something that she'd once known.

          She was a scrawny little girl looking at her reflection in a mirror smudged with handprints and dirt. Her hair was a mess of brown frizz and knotted locks, and her eyes were hollow pools of brown milky way, haunting and quiet. A hand placed itself on her shoulder—and Tea swore she could feel it, even now, the bony fingers digging into her skin—holding her firm in place like the limbs of a spider. She could not see the man in the mirror, reflection dirty and clouded with age. He did not speak, but only squeezed his fingers down against the bones in her shoulder until it hurt so badly she wanted to pull away, but just couldn't. Her eyes squeezed shut, engulfing her vision in darkness—.

          Tea did not react immediately like she had been struck by lightning or been torn back to reality, but instead stood still, holding the book in her gentle grip. It fell from her thin fingers and hit the carpeted floor with a dull sound. Her gaze was frozen as she tried to process the memory that had played through her mind. How could a memory not be there, and then suddenly just exist?

          The radio in the corner of them room flickered and burst to life, droning out a slow song in a crackly voice, frequency flickering a little. Her head snapped towards it, brown hair flying around her face. It caught against her soft lips and covered her umber eyes. In her chest, her heart beat rapidly and she willed it to calm down. The lights on the radio flashed tauntingly at her.

         Slowly, like a flittering moth, Tea walked over to the radio with her feet falling hesitantly. The static waves emanating from it, she seemed to feel in her fingertips as Tea tentatively reached out and turned it off. Silence covered the room again like a suffocating blanket and Tea shakily drew her hand back towards her chest.

          Dorotea didn't want to stay in the basement anymore.

          But she wasn't really allowed to leave. What happened if Nancy's mother came back early and she was wandering around the house? Tea gripped as many books and films in her hands as she could and settled herself down on the cool couch. Shivers rose on the back of her neck as she thought again of the monster with the many eyes. Her fingers rubbed over her face and she bit down on the end of her thumb a little, trying to ground herself. It would be so easy to call her parents. She could just pick up the phone and say Mom, Dad, I'm safe, I promise. I just have to figure out some stuff. But she wasn't sure she could do it. It was minutes that she sat there, pondering, a pile of books and films on her lap, cradled by one of her hands. Her teeth were leaving indents in her knuckle.

          Dorotea stood and moved over to the phone by the stairs, pulling Nancy's sweater tighter around her. It took her a few more minutes still to work herself up to punch in the digits she'd memorised since she was a young girl, but eventually she did so and held the phone up to her ear.

          The phone rang so many times, Tea thought it might ring out. But just as she was about to hang up, there was noise from the other end of the line as someone quickly snatched the phone off the hook. She heard heavy breathing, and a familiar woman's voice spoke: "Hello?"

           After a moment of silence, Tea murmured a response. "Hi, Mama." Tea bit her lip, unsure of what to say next. She leant against the stairs' frame, raising a hand to press against her face.

          "Tea?" Denise Gray exclaimed, voice ragged and tear-filled as she heard her daughter's voice for the first time in at least two days—Tea still didn't know quite how long she'd been running for. "Tea, is that really you? Are you okay? Where are you? We're not mad, we just want you home." Her words were shaking, and Tea just wanted to crumple up into a little ball and die for hurting her mother in this way.

          "I'm okay," whispered Tea as she curled the phone cord around her fingers, glancing down at the ground with her pretty, dewy eyes. "I promise." Tea heard her mother's breath from the other end of the phone and squeezed her eyes closed.

          "Where are you, baby? Come home. Please come home." Tea's grip tightened on the telephone and her eyes closed tightly. She wanted to—badly—but it was like something was tethering here. Why had she run here, of all places? Her body knew something that she didn't yet, something that she could only imagine was trapped in the deepest corners of her mind. She had to figure it out first.

          Her fingers picked at the peeling paint on the wall and she hot tears threatened her eyes. She pressed her lips together in order to stop the tears from falling. "I want to, Mama, but there's something I have to do first." The girl pushed the phone receiver up against her cheek, hoping her mom wouldn't hear the small ragged sob that came out of her mouth. She needed to discover what these memories were, and she couldn't back there. "I'll be home soon. You don't need to worry about me."

          Her mother sobbed. She wouldn't understand, Tea knew. "Can you at least tell us where you are?" Tea could hear her mother crying through the phone. Tea gripped the sweater she wore with her fingers, squeezing it between her hand.

          "I'm sorry, Mama," she murmured in response, barely audible in the silent room. "I'm sorry, I'm really sorry, but I'm safe, I promise. I love you." Denise Gray tried to say something more, but Tea put the phone back on its hook, cutting off the call. A great pain hammered in Tea's chest at what she'd just done, threatening to tear her apart from the inside out. The pins and needles in her skin had picked up again, running deeper this time like they were pricking her bones. Tea closed her eyes and pressed her hands against her face, covering her eyes with her fingers. Had she looked up, she might have seen the television flickering.

           Tea stayed in that position until the feeling died and her body just felt tired and weighed down. She dropped her arms to her side and bit her lip, standing aimlessly in the middle of the room. Her heart was beating quick in her chest.

           As quickly as she was frozen, and idea came to Tea. She grasped an empty notebook from the shelf behind her and the pen that lay beside it, on top of a dusty Dungeons & Dragons board game. With a shake of her hands, the dust that had gathered fluttered off and she flipped the page open to the front. Those strange memories, what if she forgot them again? The pen paused over the blank page and Tea wondered very briefly if she was insane. Maybe she hit her head a little too hard in the crash and just hadn't noticed until now. What could she even write? What did she remember? What could she remember?

          Eyes flashing, fingers tightening over shoulders and wrists, being pulled off her feet, bloody smiles: just those warped flashes—and Tea knew she was thinking nonsense, because how could these memories belong to her?

          In the end, the notes she wrote down on the paper didn't make all that much sense. 'Pain in the helix of my ear. A lot of blood. Hands grabbing me. Trying to run but being held back. Dizziness. Monitors. A monster with a thousand eyes, everywhere. A man standing beside me in a mirror. He doesn't speak. Faces over me.'

          It made no sense—but now that Tea thought hard about it, when had her life ever made sense?

*-.·∘,.·∘'.˚∙.·∘;.∘

btw tea's name is greek and it's pronounced like taya !! nancy is like o she's pretty im confused

i want natalia dyer to run me over with her car. i would be blessed

i literally want to watch season 1 again just for her-

also wtf i literally hit the publish button on this yesterday and it said published and now apparently it was never published, i hate wattpad

word count: 2,581

26.07.2019.