Work Text:
I don’t remember many things anymore.
I don’t remember my name. I don’t remember my true face. I don’t remember.
I do remember pain. I remember screaming for hours.
I remember hoping. Hoping for something. Something to save me.
I remember the haunting darkness. I remember the freezing cold. I remember not having anyone.
Sometimes, when I sleep, I see faces. Faces of people that seem familiar. I try to call out to them. No one hears me though.
Sometimes, when I sleep, I try to dance. Familiar patterns of movements in my mind. I move my feet to them. No one hears me though.
Sometimes, when I sleep, I hear music. Songs that I know the words too. I sing along to them. No one hears me though.
When they slide the viewer of my door I shrink back. Putting myself in the farthest corner that I can. I don’t want anymore pain.
When they enter my room I try to leave. It never works. They always lash out at me.
They want something from me. I don’t know what it is. They talk about machines and art. I don’t know what that means.
Today I saw a new face. No, not new, familiar but not seen in a long time.
I called out to them. They looked so sad.
I tried to sing my songs, to comfort them. They only grew sadder.
I reached for them. They ran. I closed the door for them. I was sad for them too.
The darkness is my only friend. They have left me in this room, this prison.
I call out into the dark. No one hears me though.
The quiet dripping out in the main room is my only friend. They have left me alone.
I call out into the dark. No one hears me though.
The lonely draft of air that comes through my room is my only friend. They have left me to die.
I call out into the dark. No one hears me though.
Sometimes, in the dark, I think I hear those familiar people.
Sometimes, in the dark, I think I dance to the music.
Sometimes, in the dark, I think I can sing those songs.
I don’t remember many things anymore.
I do remember pain. I do remember hope. I do remember being alone.
But today I remembered something new.
I remembered my name. I remembered. I stayed up for hours repeating my name over and over so that I wouldn’t forget. I fell asleep whispering my name in the dark.
Today I greeted those familiar faces, apologizing for forgetting them.
Today I moved to the music, dancing around my prison apologizing to the air for stepping on their feet.
Today I sang, I sang until I slept, I sang my songs.
Sometimes, I greet those faces, hoping to one day know their names again.
Sometimes, I dance, hoping to one day find the partner to my movements.
Sometimes, I sing, hoping to spark something else in my mind.
Today I heard a noise.
Today the shuffling of feet joined me.
Today someone new opened the door of my cell.
Today I saw three new faces.
Today I spoke to them. The only words I seem to be able to say anymore.
“My name is Alice.”