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A young girl finds her life torn from her hands and her memory, and sets out to discover what happened. (A short story version of a work-in-progress)

Darkness crept upon me. A sensation of chills wrapped itself around my spine. The only comprehensible thought that ran through my mind was how I ended up here. The memory of death had imprinted itself into my heart. Memories of life slipped away one by one leaving a numbing emptiness inside my chest. What happened? Someone died. Who died? I couldn't remember my own identity.

Within the darkness that engulfed me and the abyss that was clouding my mind I could make out a certain feeling. It was a feeling I had never experienced in my life. A warm, tingling over my lips. The more I wondered where it came from the more connected I felt to my missing past. It was a kiss. Someone had kissed me? I didn't understand, I had no significant other in my life. The longer the warmth lingered the more I was able to recognize myself. A single name made its way into my thoughts. Robin. The name had a familiar feeling attached to it; happiness, the sound of laughter. Something platonic. Another name followed: Ruth. This name elicited something different, something... hindering. I tried to shake away the feeling of regret. Where had these names come from?

The warmth drained from my lips, as did my remembering. I clung to it as long as I could but it only faded. With the last of my strength I willed myself out of the darkness. I searched for life, for warmth.

There was a burning impact on my skin. It hurt, but it was only for a moment. Suddenly, I could feel sunlight on my face and wind in my hair. I open my eyes to see trees and vines. They tangled, twisted. I had come to a forest? It was beautiful, but as I went to take a step the scene changed. I shielded my eyes from a blinding light. When it had dimmed down I saw myself standing on the ocean. The sound of waves filled my ears and the smell of sea salt comforted me. As I turned around the scene faded into another. A serene silence overcomes me as I look around and find myself in a great field.

Laughter bubbled up inside of me and I ran up the side of a small hill. I reached the top and recognized the sound of people below me. There was a small town up ahead. Their faces were familiar, inviting. I wanted to run to them, but my legs felt as though I were walking through quicksand. Slowly, I made my way down the hill, eager to run into the welcoming embrace of others like me.

The scene changed before I got there. It was dark and cloudy. The sky was overcast, ready to start pouring rain. The sound of a carriage brought my mind to clarity. It was my hometown. Stone streets and the dim, towering lamps comforted me. At a distance I could see a great church. There was a priest outside, calling out into the busy street to some people in a carriage.

"This way, Swanson funeral here! Ruth and Jolie Swanson, please pay your respects!"

I recognized the name as soon as he had spoken it. My legs were still weak, it took forever for me to reach the church. It started pouring rain as I entered the gates of the church.

The stained glass windows colored the room in eerie reds and purples. Up at the front stands were two coffins side by side. No one noticed me, no one even acknowledged my presence. I guess I should have known, no living human being could possibly travel the way I had. I made my way down the aisle towards the two coffins. There was a great feeling of sorrow for these two who were unfortunate enough to lie in these eternal beds. One coffin was slightly larger. Inside it was a beautiful girl clothed in an elegant velvet dress. Her long caramel hair flowed across her shoulders gracefully. Her hands were folded across her chest. She almost seemed sad. The placid emotion frozen on her face was lifeless and didn't suit her lovely features. Twenty-two roses rested in her grip, placed there by loved ones.

"She was great at speaking with others, had many friends" I jumped. I did not realize that a middle-aged couple had come up behind me.

"It's a shame that such a beautiful young woman met her time before she could have been married."

The service went on as I peeked into the other coffin. There was another girl inside, a younger one. Her face was still soft and round as that of a child's, but she seemed just older than childhood. The dress she wore had a simple, plain design with a material that was stiff and starchy. Her wild curls had been decorated with two blue bows. Her eyebrows were thick and eyelashes dark. The dark complexion of this girl was a stark contrast to the lightness of the other girl. I couldn't help but question the relation of the two. There was a beauty in the stillness of the young girl as she lay there. Somehow I felt that she had been boisterous in her living. She seemed familiar. In fact, the more I stared at her the more uneasy I felt. There was something wrong. Then it stuck me. Who had died? It was this girl, she was the one who had died. But what did she have to do with me? As I contemplated the ideas running through my head I heard a familiar name.

"Robin!" I swung around and noticed a young boy. He turned around just as I did to see who was calling him. "Robin let's just go."

He and another boy began to leave. I tried to call out to him but my voice wouldn't work. I tried running and my legs went numb. He was already gone when I reached the open gate. There was nothing I could do. Who was he? How would I find him again? I needed to know his connection to me and to the girl in the coffin.

"Did you see the Edwards boy?" I heard someone say.

I would have dismissed the typical tittle-tattle if I had not heard what she said next.

"He kissed her!" The lady whispered, "And not even the elder sister, but the younger one."

Kissed?  The realization struck me so hard that I grew faint. I made my way as fast as my legs would allow to the girl in the coffin. My vision grew blurry from shock. I stared at her, a dead girl with lips freshly kissed. A kiss had brought me here. Who was this girl? I found the answer to my question as soon as I looked up. I peered into the stained glass across the chapel. As I moved closer the image grew clearer and clearer. The girl was looking back at me, the dead girl. All a sudden, my identity had come rushing back to me so fast that it almost knocked me off of my dead feet. That girl's' name was Jolie Swanson, and she was me. I was the one who had died.

Author's Note

This is only a short story version of a much larger story. It is based on a very strange dream I once had. There are many more characters and plot lines to be discovered within the little "universe" this story takes place in.