The Resurrection of Aubrey Miller(7)

But with one more look into those familiar hazel-brown eyes, with a tinge of green so undeniably familiar, my possibly failing heart is suddenly revitalized as it spurs a jarring shock throughout my entire body, immediately transporting me to my past.
You see, when I was a little girl I spent a lot of time alone—Linda worked nights as a nurse, so I became a victim of a lot of television, and most of it wasn’t child friendly. One night, I was fully immersed in a crime show marathon where they were explaining how some trauma victims store their memories by way of compartmentalization. It was then I created and defined my compartments, sealing away certain memories where no one, not even me, could access some of them. It’s a very intricate system. For example:
Level 1 memory bin: Very easily accessible. Like an open door, memories flow in and out, allowing my day to day function. Items that would fall into this category would be things such as exam schedules, dental appointments, and the name of my new roommate Quinn.
Level 2 memory bin: A little more difficult to gain entry than Level 1. More like a closed door, where it takes some actual effort to recall these memories. Examples include the time Linda fell down the stairs and broke her collarbone, when I accidentally washed her favorite cashmere sweater in hot water and dried it on high heat, the unfortunate occasion when she attempted to make chicken pot pie, and the death of all the animals Linda brought home. Not necessarily the most terrifying of my memories, but definitely not the best.
Level 3 memory bin: These remain safely behind a locked door, for which only I have the key, and are mostly a lump sum of some pretty painful memories from my past. Some happy, some sad, but all memories that are guaranteed to bring heartbreak over and over again. So, they remain locked safely in Level 3.
Level 4 memory bin: Steel door, passcode, and retinal scan required for entry. Some of the most painful of my recollections. The death of my mother, the death of my sister, and the pain associated with both will forever stay hidden in this place.
Level 5 memory bin: Top Secret military clearance required. Titanium encases a steel vault buried approximately thirty feet underground. It’s booby-trapped with C4 and other deadly explosives which will be detonated if anyone comes within ten feet. Only one memory resides here, never to be freed again.
Like I said, I had a lot of time on my hands.
But now, as I eye the person in front of me cautiously, it becomes painfully obvious that my Level 3 memory bin has been compromised.
Either that or somehow I unknowing relinquished a key to the one and only…
Kaeleb Kristopher McMadden.


Chapter Four

The memory escapes slowly from its confinement, almost cautiously, before finally freeing itself, rushing my mind so quickly I physically wince in response. The pain it will yield is inevitable and I’m defenseless against it as it begins to replay in my mind:
“I don’t want to go, Kaeleb. I’m scared.” I wipe the tears from my cheeks as I search desperately for some sort of comfort from his shining eyes. But there’s nothing that can help me now. Cold darkness threatens to suffocate me as I’m pulled under and barely breathing. I’m dying. Just like my family.
“Bree,” he responds, quickly removing the moisture from his own face. “You have to go. You—”
“I know. I have no one here.” I sigh. “They’re all…gone.”
Kaeleb nods slightly before pulling me into his arms. Only eight years old, same age as me, yet his hold feels so strong, so secure. I know he doesn’t want to let me go, and as the pretty lady with the rose perfume comes to break us apart, the need for us to grasp onto each other becomes more desperate. She calls for help, and as they try to tear us apart, tears continue to roll down our cheeks with the knowledge that this will be our last moment together. We hold on to each other as tightly as we can, but are eventually broken apart, our fingers the last to let go as we reach for each other.
“I love you, Kaeleb,” I whisper to myself as they gently guide me into the back seat of an unknown car. Before they close me in, I scream as loudly as I can, “You’re my best friend!”
His eyes meet mine as they shut the door between us. Determination fills his eyes as he walks to the car and just when they start the engine, he places his palm flat on the window with his fingers spread as far as they will go. Slamming my hand against the cool glass, I do the same, knowing this will be the last time I will ever be in the presence of my friend. My best friend.
As we drive away, I watch out the back window as he runs down the street as long as his legs can carry him. They eventually lock underneath him and his knees hit the ground, unable to keep up any longer.
I throw my hand against the back window as the car turns the corner and continue to watch until I lose sight of him. Not until he’s gone do I allow myself to fall into the darkness. I no longer fight for the need to breathe as I let go. I just step out of myself and watch the pretty, blonde-haired, blue-eyed little girl slowly dying as she sinks, spiraling lower and lower until finally disappearing into the bottomless pit that swallows her.
“Raven? Hell-ooooo!” Quinn’s voice filters slowly through the searing pain of my memory, bringing me back into the present where I’m still standing on my bed and the damn poster is still swinging from side-to-side behind me. But now, instead of the sound barely registering, it’s grating against my eardrums like nails on a chalkboard.
Quinn and Kaeleb have made their way to the corner of my bed during my brief mental vacation and now they’re so close, I fight the urge to step back in order to put some distance between us. The corners of Kaeleb’s mouth twitch slightly when my hand finally slams against the poster.