Apparently, he called her his hummingbird. The girl knew this because she had just read it, in Faith's diaries. In her mind, Faith was like a different person - a person that she truly did not recognize as herself. How anyone could think of her being that person, of being Faith, the girl simply did not know. The more that she read, the more that she knew - she could not be Faith. A freed slave who had found love - that she could almost believe. But this woman she read about, she could not be her.
Not her.
She was sitting out in the garden. Her garden, apparently, she tended it and cared for the plants and vegetables there. So they told her. Cosmo was at her feet and every few bits someone "just popped out" to check that she was alright. Padraig was with the children, Katie was in the kitchen doing a lousy job of pretending not to watch her. Tina, who had popped over, for no reason as far as the girl could tell and Cyrus were both in the kitchen too and the girl heard snippets of conversation, hushed whispers she wasn't supposed to hear, as far as she thought, about what the healer had said, whether there was any sign. How Padraig was holding up and, of course, the one that had Cyrus clearing his throat to shut them both up - what about the children?
The girl sighed, deeply.
It is not that my memory is missing, it is that Faith is not me. The person Faith was when she was me may have been the same person, but there were so many things which happened to her and they shaped her. She has changed so much and, were it just that, all that would face me is a journey. A simple journey.
But it is not that.
Those experiences Faith had, they shaped her into someone else. Someone impossible for me to emulate, let alone become. When faced with that, when they hear me say it, Katie, Tina and Luna have all told me that of course it will all come together and of course Faith is me.
But what if she is not? What if that set of circumstances were what made her and thus, she can not be made again?
Of course, they didn't know her when she was me. They have been sheltered from it, from the reality of it. By her and by Padraig, although even he did not know her then, and does not know me now. My mere presence here hurts him, yet he needs me. No. He needs her and this is her form. Her life, stolen by an imposter who he taught to eat two trials ago.
And yet, just the sight of him, his presence. There aren't words to easily describe my feelings, yet my presence hurts him.
Leaning down, she scratched the dog behind the ear. He gave a gentle wuff and rested his head on her, looking up at her with his strange eyes and the girl smiled at him. "It will be alright, Cosmo. You shouldn't worry so much," At the sound of her voice, the talking in the kitchen stopped and the girl sighed. They wanted her to be better, to feel better. Yet she felt fine, better than she had felt in all her life that she could remember. She wanted to give them something, wanted to do what they wanted from her but the overwhelmed young woman was so busy dealing all of the new things right now, all the new people, new situations, new places and routines, the whole new reality that she simply couldn't deal with. She felt a swell of frustration, irritation at herself for not being able to be what they wanted her to be. Not being who they wanted her to be. But she could not be the person they all adored so well.
Not her.
She was sitting out in the garden. Her garden, apparently, she tended it and cared for the plants and vegetables there. So they told her. Cosmo was at her feet and every few bits someone "just popped out" to check that she was alright. Padraig was with the children, Katie was in the kitchen doing a lousy job of pretending not to watch her. Tina, who had popped over, for no reason as far as the girl could tell and Cyrus were both in the kitchen too and the girl heard snippets of conversation, hushed whispers she wasn't supposed to hear, as far as she thought, about what the healer had said, whether there was any sign. How Padraig was holding up and, of course, the one that had Cyrus clearing his throat to shut them both up - what about the children?
The girl sighed, deeply.
It is not that my memory is missing, it is that Faith is not me. The person Faith was when she was me may have been the same person, but there were so many things which happened to her and they shaped her. She has changed so much and, were it just that, all that would face me is a journey. A simple journey.
But it is not that.
Those experiences Faith had, they shaped her into someone else. Someone impossible for me to emulate, let alone become. When faced with that, when they hear me say it, Katie, Tina and Luna have all told me that of course it will all come together and of course Faith is me.
But what if she is not? What if that set of circumstances were what made her and thus, she can not be made again?
Of course, they didn't know her when she was me. They have been sheltered from it, from the reality of it. By her and by Padraig, although even he did not know her then, and does not know me now. My mere presence here hurts him, yet he needs me. No. He needs her and this is her form. Her life, stolen by an imposter who he taught to eat two trials ago.
And yet, just the sight of him, his presence. There aren't words to easily describe my feelings, yet my presence hurts him.
