The Town of Winchester

The sun shines through a small crack in the shades and the beam rests on my eyes. I wake up slowly and look over to make sure Grace is still beside me. I felt oddly protective of her. After all, as of now we were the only two people in this town so. I see Grace, she’s still asleep and looks so peaceful that I don’t want to wake her, so I don’t. I quietly get out of bed and make my way downstairs to the kitchen. I get the coffee put ready with enough for the both of us and I wait patiently for it to be ready. Medium roast was my favorite, as I always drank my coffee black and I found that dark roast was just to over powering. The smell soon engulfs the room and for a moment I am at peace.

“You like coffee? I didn’t think this friendship could get any better, but I was wrong. I hope that’s medium roast.” Grace says as she’s stretching and clearly still trying to wake up.

“It is, I thought that you might like some. Coffee always was my go-to in the morning. For some reason after I drank my morning coffee, I always felt like I was ready to take on anything that day.”

“Wow, you really have been thinking a lot this morning, haven’t you?” Grace looks at me, surprised at my coffee confession.

“Yeah, I mean, haven’t you? I keep trying to remember the way things used to be and everything is coming to me in short segments. It’s frustrating because I am having trouble piecing everything together.” I take a long sip of coffee and wait for Grace to respond but she walks over to the window and glances out, without saying a word.

“Hello? Earth to Grace.”

“Yeah, no, you’re right. I have been thinking about everything too. My memory is just the same as yours. Remembering random bits and pieces but I’m not able to put them all together. It’s like my memory is selectively remembering, but why?”

Selectively remembering, that sounds actually like a plausible explanation for why we can only remember certain events, but what was the point?

“That sounds like it could be possible. What would the point of that be, though? Did we know something that we weren’t supposed to know? Did we do something to cause this and now we are being punished?” Coming up with rash ideas of how things could have happened was my specialty. I always tried to think abstractly, something my mother taught me, so that I was never caught off guard by surprises or dramatic turns of events.

“Jesus, don’t you think that’s a little far-fetched? After all, what could we have possibly done to have this happen? I mean, my parents were traditional Indian and watched me like a hawk. They always made sure that I had a 4.0 GPA, was home on time, never partied or even thought about doing something that could ruin their reputation.”

“Grace, I am just trying to through every possible scenario out there. I am not saying that we did do anything, but I think we shouldn’t rule out that we did?” My middle name was devils advocate.

“Okay, you’re right. Maybe we should write down all of the possibilities and rule them out as we find out more? There has to be evidence of some sort around here, this town is too small to hide secrets indefinitely.”

“Let’s do it. Let’s backtrack and go back to your house Grace and see if we can find anything there. We didn’t really look the last time, in depth anyways.”

“After you.”

We start our journey backwards to Grace’s house. In the back of my mind I hope we find something, even the tiniest hint to why this all happened would put my mind slightly at ease. As we walk back, I realize that Grace and I have spent a large portion of time together in silence. Was it because we were both so busy thinking about everything that we were lost in our own thoughts? Was it because we didn’t have anything to say to each other? There has to be a reason that we are the only ones here, and I need to start doing a better job at finding out why the hell that is.

“So, tell me about your family. I hardly know anything about you and since we’re the only two people here I feel that shouldn’t be the case.” I ask Grace, taking a leap and hoping that she’ll open up to me.

“Not much to tell. My parents were the only family I had. I found out that I was adopted when I was 20 and ever since that day my trust for them has never been the same.”

“What do you mean? Why would them telling you that you were adopted waiver your trust?”

“Because they didn’t tell me. I found my adoption certificate when I was looking for my birth certificate. Then I confronted my parents about it, and our relationship was permanently damaged. I couldn’t get over the fact that they had lied to me, and they couldn’t get over the fact that I had went into their things and found the adoption certificate.”

“Oh, Grace, I’m sorry that happened to you. Nobody should ever experience deceitfulness… especially from the ones closest to us. Do you know why they lied?”

“To protect themselves and their reputation. Coming from a tradition Indian background, adoption is not the most respected thing. I also think that they were afraid that I wouldn’t look at them as my ‘real’ parents, which is completely ludicrous because I always loved them more than life itself and would have done anything to protect them... but they never believed me when I told them that.” Grace’s voice drifts and I can tell that she’s drifting into a sad place, a place that she had been so many times before and didn’t want to go back to. I take her hand and pull her into me, embracing her with my arms.

“It’s okay. I know that whatever happened between you and your parents, you can rebuild it. No relationship is ever gone until you say it is. You can do this, Grace. I know you can.” I squeeze a little tighter and close my eyes. A sharp pain throughout my head immediately jolts me back.

“Are you okay?” Grace asks.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m good. I’ve just had this damn headache and it won’t go away. It’s been giving me random sharp pains, but it’s gone now, thankfully. Sorry about that, didn’t mean to scare you.” I rub my arm awkwardly, as I look up at Grace her face is soft, and the sunlight is hitting her eyes just right and they sparkle. For a moment it seems they are sparkling at me.

“Don’t be sorry, Kay. Thanks for what you said by the way… before you had your little spaz attack. That was really sweet.” She half smiles at me and I feel warmth. This is nice, this could be the start of a really good friendship.

We reach Grace’s house, and once more, we step inside. We’re both unsure of that we are looking for but that doesn’t slow us down. Grace walks to towards the stairs and turns back to me and nods, and I know this means that I will investigate the downstairs. Silent communication, she’s pretty cool. Maybe we did have some type of bond before all of this. I start with the kitchen. I open drawers and find nothing out of the ordinary, just receipts, pens, paper, the usual. I move towards the living room and notice a picture tucked behind a desk. The picture is of Grace and her parents, and they all look so happy. What happened? Why would a perfectly happy family be ripped apart and disappear without a trace or even a note? I guess I could ask myself the same question… I take the picture so I can show Grace when we reconvene. My last stop is the dining room. A long wooden table, enough for 10 people, takes up a majority of the space. The table is beautiful and is overshadowed by a brilliant chandelier hanging delicately above. That thing must’ve cost a fortune. With my gaze fully engulfed by this chandelier my eye catches something that doesn’t belong. I get on the table, so I am able to reach it, and as I pick it up, I notice it looks like a tiny camera. Were they recording something? Trying to catch something… or someone? We have to see what’s on this. I tuck the camera away in my pocket, climb down off the table, and head towards the stairs to meet back up with Grace.

“Grace! I found something, have you had any lu-” Before I can finish my sentence, I notice Grace sitting on the top step with her head in her hands. “Are you okay? What is going on?”

Grace looks up at me and I notice her eyes are blood red, she’s been crying. I sit next to her and put my arm around her to comfort her. She rests her head into my embrace, and we sit in silence. An eternity seems to go by before Grace hands me a piece of paper, a note.

“I found this in my parent’s room.”

I take the note, sit up straight, and begin to read it.

Our Princess Grace,

We will never understand why you did what you did to us. Just know, that deep within our hearts we believe that God will show you the right path in life and will forgive you always. This is not you. We did not raise you to become this way. We have done nothing but provide for you in every which way possible, and we don’t know what we did to deserve this. You are going through a rebellious phase and we understand that now. We remember the first time we ever held you, how precious and innocent you were, and we don’t know where we went wrong. What did we do for you to do this to us? You leave us no choice but to send you away, so that you can think about what you have done and the pain that you have caused this family. We know that one day you will appreciate what we have done. You will appreciate it because it will make you realize that you are only doing this to hurt us – and nothing more. The feelings you have told us that you carry are not your own. You are a pure and beautiful child of God, and you must always remember that. We love you more than anything in this world and want nothing but the best for you. Please, understand that we are doing this for your own good and that it will help you come to terms with your true, pure self.

Love always,

Mom & Dad

Chills run down my spine and I am frozen, like a hiker who has been stuck in the frigid snowy mountains for months. So many questions flood my brain, and those questions are accompanied by overwhelming emotions. The emotions are not only for Grace, but they are for me. I cannot help but feel hurt, like I have been here before. I look over to Grace and her head is still down, and I notice a tear on the tip of her nose. I slowly move my hand over to wipe it away, while I quickly scramble internally to come up with something to say.

“Grace, I don’t know what to say… do you know why your parents would write something like this? I found a picture, and you look so happy.” I show Grace the picture and she grabs it and throws it against the wall, it smashes, and glass falls to the floor.

“My parents were always strict and sometimes they could be a little overwhelming, but I never thought that they were capable of writing something like this. I must have done something really, really extreme. All I have ever wanted to do was make them proud, I don’t know what I could have done to make them write something like this.”

“It’s okay, we don’t have to figure it out right now. Maybe if we find a few more clues it might help jog your memory?”

“I checked everything upstairs and this was all that I found. Did you have any luck?” Grace asks as she wipes the tears from her cheeks.

“Yeah, I found this.” I take the camera out of my pocket and show it to Grace. “It was tucked away in the chandelier above the dining room table. Like someone was trying to hide it or something. Maybe it has some clues about what happened with you and your parents, we just have to figure out a way to see what is on it.”

“I used to have a laptop in my room but it’s not there anymore. We will have to look around and see if we can find one somewhere else. Do you have one at your house?”

“Only one way to find out.” I say as I extend my hand to help Grace up. Her touch is warm, wet from wiping tears and a protective feeling overtakes me and now more than ever do I want to figure out what the hell is going on here.