blooming_Ednae

150.

Catch me if you can.

His words echoed in Emma’s mind and the first thing she heard the moment the chime of the grandfather clock woke her up. Even after the sixth chime, she still found herself laying on her back, eyes wide open towards the ceiling above her.

She was on kitchen duty and it was only a matter of time before Gilda woke up and chided her for not getting ready; but, this was the first time she felt the longing to do something different from the normal, weekend routine.

It’s been six months since she was found by them, and slowly, she began to find her place within the large family who claimed to know her so well. The adjustment was different, after living for so long in quiet solace with the older man who had found her; she wasn’t used to loud voices, energetic children at all hours of the day, and taking care of younger ones.

She wasn’t used to it, but something deep-seated within her made all of the responsibilities seem like second nature. 

And she came to realize that she didn’t mind it one bit. It took her awhile to open up, but the routine of having to care for others and maintain the large house felt natural to her; balancing school was another topic, but it felt doable and manageable. 

She never found it to be a bother, not one bit, because something within her made these situations feel comfortable. 

And she found that on some days, she rode on that familiarity; every piece that felt natural, she latched on to. It felt like she was one step closer to this unknown familiarity.

There were some days, though, when the emotions felt too much, too overbearing. Sometimes, the familiar would slip through her fingers, and it suddenly felt like she was facing a white blank slate, threatening to wipe clean everything she felt was so close.

The thought of white turned into flashes of him; he embodied the neutral color everyday, his hair to match his presentation. And she realized, as she thought of him, that he was exactly that; an unknown familiarity that threatened to never uncover the reality of the past.

Because that’s just how Norman is, she realized; he’d rather have the individual find out the truth on their own rather than explaining it to them.

And it made her blood boil.

While she had taken a platonic liking towards the boy in the past months she had spent with him, and she found herself the most close to him (aside from Ray, who she realized she could tease all day and he would never push her away, despite his annoyance towards her), Emma found that Norman was the most difficult to talk to when it came to serious matters concerning her or himself. He had no problem telling her the order of the planets in the solar system, an in depth explanation of the valves of the heart, the living styles of owls, and his detailed schedule daily, but whenever it had to do with anything regarding his own emotions, she noticed an immediate wall built between him and her. 

During the first few times she noticed it, it was very subtle; either that, or she wasn’t fully aware. It was a tug of war of emotions and she found that he was often winning (despite his physical weakness). 

She realized it was time to get to the bottom of it.

The sound of a bed creaking across the room made her sit up in bed immediately, knowing all too well that Gilda was awake. As she swung her legs over her bed, she quickly grabbed her clothes from her night stand and changed. 

“Is something wrong, Emma?”

Gilda’s voice suddenly breaking the silence caused Emma to jolt a bit, turning towards the younger girl. She shook her head furiously, in an attempt to give a solid answer to Gilda and to shake off the earlier morning’s thoughts. 

“I-I’m fine!”

Gilda frowned, taking a closer look towards Emma. “You didn’t get up earlier today. Is something on your mind?”

Emma pieced together in her head a while ago that Gilda was someone close to her for a very long time; Gilda could read her in an instant before she could even figure out an answer.

“It’s okay, really! I just felt like...sleeping in a little more, is all. But I want to make breakfast for everyone too, and I’m up already, so let’s go!”

Gilda’s frown didn’t waver, but she shook her head nonetheless as she turned around.

“Okay, but...just let us know if you need anything or don’t feel well, okay?”

“Of course!”

Gilda led the way out of their double-occupancy room and quietly closed the door before they walked down the hall. Most of the older kids had double-occupancy rooms due to their increasing school work and responsibilities, but that didn’t mean they didn’t check on the younger kids every so often during the night. There were only a handful of single occupancy rooms, and most of them belonged to those with more intense responsibilities or school work. The younger kids ranging from early elementary to junior high still roomed together in larger rooms similar to their House’s layout, and the junior high kids had the same responsibilities akin to how the older kids of their previous House had.

Emma grimaced when a loud creak came from the wooden floor as she passed one of the larger rooms with the younger kids, hoping no one would wake up from the noise she caused. She let out a sigh of relief when she heard no one stirred.

Turning around to look at the door of the larger room once more, Emma couldn’t help but feel a twinge of longing every time she passed one of the rooms. Her emotions couldn’t discern the feeling of loneliness, and the longing for a sense of a larger community.

As she turned to face forward again, she saw Gilda staring at her, worry etched on her face.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” she whispered as they rounded into the kitchen area to prepare the food. 

You’re so energetic. Even though you haven’t eaten breakfast yet.

Emma quickly whirled around to follow the sound of the voice behind her; when she was met with an empty dining hall, she shook her head, and became aware of her quickened breathing.

The sound of the voice felt haunting, and she almost felt as if it were-

“Okay, something is definitely not okay,” she heard Gilda speaking in a louder tone, Emma feeling the touch of Gilda’s hand on her shoulder. “You should go rest, I can call Anna or Don to cover for you this morning-”

“No!”

Emma’s sudden outburst took Gilda aback, and Emma immediately covered her mouth, speaking in a softer tone.

“I mean, no,” she restated, calmer. “I want to help you. I just...thought I heard something, is all.”

The feeling of familiarity came into her once again and she felt as if spending more time in the kitchen would help her remember something. She smiled up at Gilda, taking a step into the kitchen.

“In exchange, can you at least tell me if this is something I used to do?”

-------

“Treat her as Emma. What you disclose to her is of your own judgement.”

Gilda shook her head. “But don’t you think that would only confuse her even more? If we treat her like she was before if she can’t even remember?”

Norman smiled. “If we tell her how she was before and how to act...I’m afraid that would only confuse her even more.”

He closed his eyes for a moment before speaking softly.

“She put all her trust and faith in us to find her...now it’s our turn to do the same for her.”

-------

Emma flipped through the pages of her book restlessly, scanning the pages up and down as she read quickly. Unbeknownst to her, the library door opened and closed with ease, soft footsteps to follow.

When she didn’t look up from her book, Ray sat in front of her with his chin propped on his hand, eyebrow quirking as he observed the book before her.

“I understand your desire to learn more, but I don’t think a dictionary is going to cut it.”

Emma visibly jumped at his voice, frowning as a triumph smirk formed on Ray’s lips.

“Don’t you know how to knock?!”

Ray shrugged. “It’s the library, Emma. A public space. And a room hardly used on weekends, except by me.”

She rolled her eyes. “Like you’ve read a dictionary before, I’m sure.”

He nodded. “Twice, actually.”

“You’re joking.”

“There were no more new books to read, so why not.”

“You’re unbelievable.”

“A lot of people say so, thanks.”

Emma rolled her eyes. “Come back to taunt me after all the times I messed with you?”

Ray shrugged. “Please. I’ve had a lifetime of you to get used to; don’t flatter yourself.”

“Who’s flattering who, now?”

At her snippy remark, Ray smirked as he leaned forward and lightly flicked Emma on the forehead, to which she rubbed in feigned annoyance.

“A little birdy might have told me to check in on you.”

“Gilda told you she’s worried about me?”

Ray looked at her, unfazed. “Bingo.”

“I’m fine, seriously.”

“Are you worried about Norman?”

The sudden question caught Emma off guard, and her eyes slightly wavered at his question. When his expression didn’t change, Emma began to look left to right, intimidation filling into her.

While she found Ray to be easy to talk to, there were times when he would see right through her, and it was these times where she felt most vulnerable. At the sight of her discomfort, Ray shook his head.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to make you-”

“Who is he?”

Ray abruptly stopped speaking, his eyes squinting for a second before he focused his attention back to her. 

“What do you mean by that?”

Emma frowned. “Well, that’s a valid question, considering my situation, right?”

The topic of her lost memory made Ray feel uneasy for a moment before he pursed his lips in a straight line, carefully contemplating on how to approach the topic. 

“It is, but asking me won’t do you any good.”

Emma frowned even more. “Why not? He won’t tell me a thing, so I need to research this on my own!”

Ray took a quick glance at the dictionary page she had stopped on, eyes landing towards the word she had highlighted with her highlighter.

Bittersweet.

Ray visibly frowned at her apparent train of thought, before carefully choosing his words.

“Why do you think he’s so hard to read?”

Emma shook her head. “I don’t know? He just smiles...a lot. I mean, he also frowns when he’s thinking, or laughs  when something is funny, or becomes firm when he’s in meetings with Barbara and them, and-”

Ray raised his hand, pausing Emma’s long list of Norman’s tendencies, causing Emma to redirect her sentence.

“Okay, but...his smile says more, you know? Like, he looks at me a certain way, and it’s different than the way he smiles or acts towards anyone else. I can’t be going crazy, right? Don’t you see it too, Ray?”

“You’re being cruel to yourself.”

Norman laughed, his eyes closing as he did so. “And you’re too concerned for your own well-being, Ray.”

Ray gave a hard stare back towards the other boy. “Are you going to be okay?”

As Norman opened his eyes, his lips settled into a small smile, his eyes downcast as he did so.

“I have to be.”

From under the table, Ray clenched his fist in frustration, clearly tiring from the situation before him. And before he could catch himself-

“I see it too,” was all he could numbly say, the overbearing urge to say more forcibly cut by the biting of his own tongue. And for a moment, he regretted giving a hint, but all bouts of worry dissipated the moment Emma’s face lit up, a huge smile replacing her worried lines.

It was an expression he hoped that she would have much more in the future. 

“I knew it!” she exclaimed, standing up from her chair. “Thank you!” She leaned forward and gave Ray’s hair a small tussle as he swatted her hand away, frowning in feigned annoyance. 

“Now to...figure out the rest of this puzzle,” she stated in contemplation, hand on her chin as she thought aloud. 

Ray sighed. He knew Norman was going to kill him for this.

“Norman likes playing games.”

He continued as she stared back at him. “You’ve seen how well he plays games, and how irritatingly good he is at them, right? That’s because he knows how to not show his emotions or strategy.”

“And right now, he’s playing one again, whether he knows it or not. So,” Ray leaned forward, smirking.

“Play his game. And win.”

Catch me if you can.

His words echoed again in Emma’s head.

The pieces began to line up.

And this time, she smirked with determination in her eyes.

With newfound resolve, she shut the dictionary before her as she smirked back at Ray. Something told her that sitting and studying wasn’t her style; she felt the need to act and it needed to be now.

When she said nothing in reply, Ray held out his fist towards her and in response, she bumped his fist back in gratitude. She held her head high.

“This game starts now.”

Day 150.

It’s been 150 days since living here, 150 days since Ray suggested I started keeping this journal as an account just in case I lose my memory again.

And while I haven’t lost any memory, I haven’t gained any either.

There’s a feeling I can’t place. Today, the feeling of longing of being someone else came back. Why did I hear a voice in the dining hall today?

It almost sounded like Norman’s. 

I wanted to ask Gilda that. I wanted to ask Ray more about him. But for some reason, I feel like I shouldn’t.

The feelings I can’t place are just building up. They’re not forming any words, but it’s making me long for something. For someone.

But what, or who, I can’t figure it out.

Maybe Norman’s right. I have to figure this out on my own. It’s my own memory and consciousness, after all.

Because he knows a lot about me, and I barely know me. 

Wait, that’s not fair. He already has the upper hand!

Is this a competition? It almost feels like one. No, it’s definitely one.

...fine, then. If it’s one, then bring it.

Because I know I can catch up, somehow.

If I survived memory loss, what’s a few emotion-finding tasks to that?

(...for some reason, I feel like I’m going to regret saying that last sentence, but whatever. It’s time to get moving).