A woman finds herself in a dark room, and begins to uncover deeply buried memories.

Short story. Based on the poem 'confession' by janice windle. I orginally wrote this for an english essay.


8. Inhale, Exhale

She sat up once she felt she could cry no more, and stared at her stomach.


Watching her breaths, in and out. She inhaled as much as possible, seeing how big she could make her stomach.


A slither of white peeked out from the bottom of her shirt. A scar, stretched across her abdomen. It wasn’t new, but she had had it a while.


Then she remembered. How could she have forgot? Her child. A tiny thing, identical to the man from her memories, the same shape of face, the same colour of eyes, the same hair, the same smile… but breathing. Laughing. Blinking. Crying. Reminding her of everything she had lost.


The man’s hand was replaced by a heavy child. White paint and coffee cups and beaches were replaced by reminiscence of stains and milk and sleepless nights.


She felt a flash of emotion cross her mind. Was it pain? Sadness? Anger? Guilt?

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