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Who is in control?

Who is in control?

I yank back into my body. The mint toothpaste burns my tongue with a cooling fire as I brush my teeth. Wait a minute! Since when am I brushing my teeth? I stop, spit in the sink, and cry, confusion and a head ache work together to break my fragile resistance.

My mother pats my shoulder. I start. I didn’t remember she was there. She rubs my back. “What is wrong, Love?”

I am mildly freaking out. “How did I get here? How long was I asleep? Why does my head hurt?” I throw my toothbrush to the ground. “I can’t do this!” I scream the words and they echo off the bare bathroom walls. I lean against the wall and slide to the floor, to shocked to keep sobbing.

My mother kneels and wraps me in her arms. Out of pure instinct I curl into a ball. How long we sit there, I don’t know. I do know my butt was asleep and I was super thirsty by the time Mum stood, brushed herself off, and reached for my hand. I let her help me up, and she pulled me into a hug again.

“It will be okay, Love. You will rise from this. We all will.” Her voice shudders and she squeezes me tighter. It would be easy to get distracted by her warmth and smell that I have known my whole life. But I can’t. I need answers.

“How can I rise from an unknown challenge?” I whimper like a lost kitten. I might as well be one. “I don’t know what the heck just happened and my head is going to split. I just relived my worst memories, and I really need some grilled cheese and tomato soup.” I sound whiny, but I don’t care. I need my mommy. She’s been there forever. Well, almost.

She found me on the street as a toddler, and ever since I have been with her family. But in the last ten years, the family has gone from four to two. My brother and father disappeared while leading the organization that I lead now.

She puts one arm around my shoulders and pushes the bathroom door open the rest of the way. “I don’t know what you mean about memories, but I can help with the grilled cheese and supply you with what parts of the story we know. Come on.”

Sunlight blinds me, and increases the pounding in my head. I know where I am, I realize. The master bedroom. She leads me through the sunny room, across the carpeted hall, and down the slick wooden stairs. At the bottom of the stairs, we turned left and walked through the dark dining room into the kitchen.

A huge deck runs along the whole back of my house. Windows fill the walls, looking over the mountain lake. The room was full of sun. Too full. I squint and pull a few of the blinds as mom grabs bread, butter, and extra sharp cheddar cheese. I sit at the bar and watch her, soothed.

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As she works, she talks. “Well. Love? What do you remember?”

I try to think without increasing my head ache. “Before the memories? Nothing. My memory is completely non-existent until yesterday when I left for the mission to, uhh, inspect some evidence.” I stutter on that last part, cuz mom is not supposed to know that I have been heading up the missions. As I finish my thought, I have a bad feeling that yesterday wasn’t yesterday, today isn’t today, and I am about to be told part of my life is unknown to me. Then it clicks, and scares every bit of daylight right out of my soul.

Mum takes a deep breath. She is about to jump off a cliff. “Love, I’m sorry. I don’t know how to set you down gently! I guess I’ll drop you and get the pain over with. That mission that you think you left for yesterday was almost a month ago. You have been living in a fog since. Asking the same questions over and over. Wondering where you are, what day it is. I prayed for so long!”

Her tears rundown her face and drip to the floor and she squats by the cabinet. She grabs a can of tomato soup and slowly stands. Snorting loudly, Mum continues. “He found you on the highway, walking. You were holding a necklace and book and you were chanting. You were saying ‘Never give up. Remember, elephants can hear you from a mile away.’ He thought you were crazy. You were identified at the police station he took you to, and I came to pick you up. It was a two-hour drive, and you weren’t acting right. I told them this was normal and gave the excuse of some type of drugs because I didn’t want you in a hospital. I have been trying to help you myself with natural remedies and stuff. A guy who calls himself Nightshade from your group has been appearing every day and helping me with whatever needed done. Someone taught him to cook and clean well, let me tell you.”

I sigh. Yep. That was me, I was hard on him. He must hate me.

Mum looks at me inquiringly. I barely have a moment to wonder why Nightshade would want to help me before she keeps talking. “Nightshade says the minute you were out of commission, some Aspen girl took over, and won’t let you in the group anymore because you are mental. He says when she did that, he quit. You were the head of the group, he says. No point in going on missions without you.”

I wince as her glare shoots into my soul, awakening my conscience. Oh dear. I’m in, and I’m in DEEP.

Her voice raises an octave. “You said you weren’t going on dangerous missions! You told me you were doing office work and checking evidence. I already lost your father and brother. In the same mission no less! I can’t keep doing this. You won’t even be honest with me! I will lock you in your room ‘til you are eighteen if you don’t stop this.”

Mum is crying. I am crying. I can almost feel the instantly changing emotions in the room. They bounce off the walls and block the sunlight from outside. My head pounds, and I almost want to die in my seat. The next few months are going to stink.

Mom bangs the can of tomato soup onto the counter, denting it. She doesn’t understand, I am just trying to help people. I am doing my God-given mission and changing the world one family at a time. But no. ‘Stay home’, she says. I swear. She just wants to control me. I won't have it.