The memories of my childhood were a carousel in slow motion; my birthday cake an array of candles that wouldn't go out, and my mother a featureless woman, smiling as she snapped photographs of me in my awful pigtails. My father, a tall burlesque man, blew out the candles, until the room was dark. I wished the light hadn't blown out because, Maybe then I could have been a happy little girl, and my life could have gone according to plan

Every moment in life had purpose, that was for sure, and I think my purpose began in the darkness of those blown out candles. It was in chaos and destruction, that a tender and sorrowful tune echoed in my ears. Twas the kind that sailors whistle while starboard, to bring merriment and joy into their mundane lives, and yet there was melancholy in the chords. Even as I opened my eyes, I swore I could hear the billowy tune, but the scorching white hot pain burned through me and my body was doused in the fire of Hades.

I opened my eyes and watched as people, rustling about a nondescript room, attached medical apparatus without qualm as the heat licked my skin. There was no focal point that caught my attention and I stared at the clear liquid that was dripping into my cold veins. In the heat, visions swarmed my aching head of our cottage in the woods, where my mother dried out laundry on the clothesline and my father chopped wood in the evening to keep the hearth warm while a small dog yipped at his heels.

In the fog, my visions faded and I slipped back into the abyss for what felt like a very long time.

While lying in the hospital bed I heard the echoing of muffled voices that muttered their pitiful words in my ears. Whoever was whispering told me, "it was alright," and "try to rest,".

I tried to grasp a peaceful slumber, but a burning sensation spread within me, causing me to scream out in agony, and without uttering a single sound.

A group of people rushed into the room with needles, while I thrashed around violently until they sedated me. I didn't feel pain anymore and I allowed myself to relax.

Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep; was the sound the monitors made as they captured my heart beating. I didn't want to remember what happened to me; I wanted to think of my featureless mother and my burlesque father, but the demons of my mind were on the warpath and they would not stop until lol my attention was veered towards them.

After some time, I opened my eyes, but the burning light of a clear summer day was peeking through. I blinked my eyes rapidly to clear the crust away and when I finally saw the light, I wasn't a little girl anymore.

I tried to speak but my voice was hoarse.

"Water?", I tried to ask.

Suddenly, I was looking into the eyes of my Aunt Tabitha, who was both surprised and horrified to see me awake. She rushed out of the room, nearly stumbling over herself before she returned, with a doctor who looked into my eyes.

An unreadable expression marred the doctors face as he placed a jug of water on the hospital tray and held the same glass of water up to my lips. I reached out and stopped the doctor from touching me.

Instead, I took the cup from his hands and gulped it down greedily. The gangly man with the stethoscope dangling over his neck, that smelled of lemons and parsley, looked at me with intrigue, but I did not pay him any mind.

"More Please?", I asked him. The doctor obeyed my request by grabbing the pitcher and filling it with more water. I continued chugging the water until my throat no longer felt parched.

"You know, Gabby, It's a miracle you've survived.", the doctor told me.

"Why?", I questioned him.

"Could you wait one moment? I have to grab some of my colleagues!", the doctor asked while avoiding My panicked tone in my question. He didn't wait for my response but exited the room swiftly, and when he returned, he brought a few other residents in with him, all guffawing over my presence.

"Would you like to sit up?", the doctor asked while his colleague's all surrounded me like I was the main attraction in a carnival.

"Yes, I would like that very much." I said throatily. The people who came with the doctor tried to offer me some assistance but I pushed them away. They stared at me with puzzled expressions by my defensive behavior. I watched their expressions turn to surprise, as I sat up without assistance. I wouldn't let them sense my weakness, because despite the events that had landed me in a hospital bed, I was strong.

Afterwards it was dark again and I longed that I could stay cocooned in the darkness. I didn't want to open my eyes, I didn't want to see Aunt Tabitha, and I certainly didn't want to think about the darkness and the fog or that melody that seemed to follow me.

A press of uncertain fingers applied pressure to my wrist, but they were unfamiliar hands. They were present for a moment, but the leathery feel of their skin sent a tingle of goosebumps down my spine. A dark and somber feeling spread through me, ice lodged itself in my chest and stole my breath, froze my mind and I begged for release. Then sweet and soft words trickled through the ice and I knew that voice.

"Please wake up. You are the only light left in my world.", Aunt Tabitha said as she tightened her grip. I needed to open my eyes, so I could see Aunt Tabitha again, and show everyone that I could beat the odds stacked against me. After I was empty of thought, I buried the pain deep within, and opened my eyes knowing I would put away my visions of childish things, and fire and ice.

"Aunt Tabitha.", I said to her struggling to use my words. "How are my parents?", I asked her with a sliver of hope in my mind, I could almost taste the ashen soot of the Firestone warming the cottage.

"Your parents are gone now.", she said to me in a sad tone and I recognized my grief, but I still had my qualms about this new reality.

"What do you mean gone? What happened to me?", I questioned. "What happened to them Aunt Tabby. I closed my eyes for just a moment to sleep and then I was here." I said to her as my throat tightened with unshed tears.

"Oh god. Don't worry about it now, Gabs, everything's going to be fine," Aunt Tabby said to me. "You don't have to worry about it anymore. Just sleep and forget.", she said with a heavy sadness to her tone.

"Ok, but when I wake up again, can you tell mom and dad that my cake tasted delicious,", I said to her in a confused tone. "I'm going to sleep now but can you make sure you tell them that?", I asked her. I didn't wait for her answer but closed my eyes once more.

I awoke to the sound of thunder in my hospital room. I flinched in my sleep only to be comforted by a warm hand. I felt safe and loved by whoever was there and squeezed on tightly.

During the day I heard hushed voices,

"Her parents are dead, what else could you possibly want from her?". Aunt Tabitha said to someone. I could hear the pain in her voice as she argued with the stranger in a hushed tone.

"She doesn't need to know what happened. She doesn't need to know who she is anymore...", Aunt Tabitha finished.

"One day in the future I will be back.", said the other deep voice.

On that day two things became very clear to me, one being that Aunt Tabitha had lied me, and the other being that nothing was going to be ok ever again.

After that day, I didn't speak or look to anyone that was a part of the hospital. I knew the betrayal that came from being lied to about the truth.

At some point a psychiatrist started to visit and she bothered me with her constant talking. No matter how much I ignored her, she kept talking to me about everything going on in her life. She held my hand, she jabbered on, and she always tried to look me in the eye.

"Gabby, it's been four months of silence. So I'm just going to talk to you non-stop because it's important that you listen.", she said to me in an authoritative voice.

One day I turned and looked into her eyes, not because I wanted to talk to her, but because I wanted her to leave me alone.

When that didn't work, we settled into a routine; she came to the hospital and chatted all day long, and I looked away towards the windows.

Eventually I listened attentively to her chatter and started to feel better again. I learned to accept that my Aunt Tabitha did her best to keep me safe from harm. I learned to trust Ann and she helped me regain my strength.

The psychiatrist seemed satisfied with my advancement but she didn't push me at any point. I felt comfortable with her presence and soon trusted her enough to allow the doctors back into the room.

I still didn't want to see Aunt Tabitha; just because I forgave her, didn't mean I trusted her. The light hurt a lot of the time but I decided that I didn't want to close my eyes anymore.

"You've been making such great progress Gabby. In fact I'd say you're almost ready to leave!", Ann said ecstatically.

I was better physically and mentally except for one last hurdle that stood in my path. In order to leave, I needed to let Aunt Tabatha visit everyday for the next week for family therapy. As much as I hated to admit it, we needed to move forward and take those last steps toward healing.

Aunt Tabitha and I talked everyday, but not for too long, but only because Aunt Tabitha worked everyday. It worked out perfectly though, because I didn't have much to say to her. I was skeptical of Aunt Tabitha's loyalty towards making sure I healed properly. However, by the end of the week I felt reassured by Aunt Tabitha's words. After months of healing I was homeward bound to a house very different from before.

When I stepped into Aunt Tabitha's home, the first thing I noticed was the smell of moth balls. Aunt Tabitha had a large house but it was barren and made me melancholic. She cooked meals that tasted so horrifying that they made me miss my moms cooking.

One day Aunt Tabitha came out from her office, where she spent most of her time, and was very excited. That day I had physical therapy so I was extremely tired.

"Happy 10th birthday Rowen!", she said as she pulled out a cake.

There were a few candles on this cake, my mom wasn't taking photographs, my dad wasn't stopping the candles by blowing them out. And yet the candle went out and all was dark; nothing was the same.