House-Of-Legions
, and blew her long brown and newly ironed hair as it flowed like a river of gleaming satin over the back of a comfortabl
ots because you lost your stupid pass. South Africa was about waking to the echo of the ocean, sipping coffee in the sun while wearing shorts and vest as you
eason to spend a weekend in bed. Adding on the jet lag was the last straw as h
in her thoughts as they flashed over the recent course of events, specifically to that one night. The
roken heel, hair in a total mess, dried blood, her mother was the prime image of a woman who'd been raped or mugged, except her bag was still over her shoulder. Her mother just stared at her with those big eyes, before she beat her f
, kicked it, but it was no use. She knew that, even as she
un bled in through the bathroom window, bu
ck from the cold wall and cramps in her legs from staying in the same position for so long meant nothing in the end. Because she ne
hool, then things had gotten strange and confusing. Her mother f
a nervous wreck overnight. Moody and short-tempered replaced the calm and collected. Her mother wa
had Clare grab her mother's hand to place it under the cold tap but there wasn't any injury. Her mother brushed it off as her over reacting and insisted Clare
place so foreign to her. They could've went anywhere, America was the most logical option. Clare had lived in Washington for two years
ifference between her sanity and going crazy from not knowing. Without it she'd be lost, because her mother never spoke of the past. Her mothers ada
mother's decision of remaining tight lipped about her past. What was
marked the years. Those many years that she'll never get ba
ne doctor had said, "h
r", and finally the last blow, "Sorry Ms Miller but there's nothing we
ourse of years she'd bring up questions of the past, but always came up short. Her mother would just leave the room, or give her one of the famous '
ght years ago, something her mother wanted to forget. It must
other hid, hoping it would fill the void burning deep within her soul. But recently there was that whisper that held her back from figuring it out, a warning bell go
d faith and everyday since, a part of her s
er amnesia was the least of her problems, she had other seeds to roast. Starting with why she'd uprooted from the only home
my life
en years of her life, so she always said, "If I
or the lack of concern. Clare presumed her mother was blowing off steam, or some psychological bullshit after whatever happened to her. Fearing it was rape Flare could only hope not,
at she had to drop school and leave straight away, two weeks before her interview with
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