Adrianne Annie and Adie (Entries to Adie's Journal)

November 30th

My mother named me Adrianne, she liked to call me Annie. I was born on a cold day in January, in fact....my mother said it snowed....a lot. Maybe that's why I like the snow so much. I never knew my father, I've spent my life being told that he was a great man but I've never gotten a chance to ask him for myself.
My mother, her name was Cheryl. Was.....I really can't say if she's alive anymore...I've lost all contact with her. I can't even really say if she was fond of me through the years we spent on the planet together. We both were merchants, my mother made crafts, mainly jewelry. Gosh, it was amazing how the small gems caught the light of the sun. They left little spots of color on the ground when you held them up. Though the village was a bit poor, I was usually able to talk customers into buying a few of our wares before they went on their way....I sadly think, this may be the only reason I've been able to stay with mother as long as I had.
Have I ever mentioned I hate Sundays? Sunday used to be my favorite day of the week at one time. I'd wake up early and fix myself some breakfast before heading down to the beach. Mother would meet me down there around noon with a picnic and we'd be what I wanted, a family. We would sit, eat, laugh and watch the waves, When we would sit there I could talk about anything with my mother. As soon as Monday came again it was back to work again, I would look forward to the next Sunday. One Sunday though I woke up and sat at the beach until the stars had come out, mother never came. I had made my way home in the darkness, my face cold from tears. Upon my arrival home I found a note sitting on the table.

"Annie,
I've gone North, it's cheaper to live there and I've heard your father may be living up there. You may join us if you wish otherwise you may remain in the house.
As always love,
Cheryl"

I didn't know what to do, I was still a child....I still am. How do I take care of a house? How do I take care of myself? I didn't have the answers, I didn't know anyone who had the answers. I went to the village, I...I did nothing. I sat on the steps to the library, I sat there only leaving to get food or take care of other necessities. I didn't leave to sleep, I slept on the steps in the rain, the snow, and even the clear nights. I stared at the booth my mother set her wares up in; empty, closed off to the world and falling apart. As a plank of wood dropped off the booth I realized I felt the same as it, both of us being almost a shell of a former self, though I was alive, the booth was inanimate.
I didn't have to be empty, I could do better, I could BE better. I wanted to be my cheerful self again. I went home and packed up my bag; some clothing, a little bit of food and my hair brush. I looked to the table and saw the photograph that reminded me, I once had a family. My mother and I looked so happy in that picture, it was on one of our Sunday outings, the waves in the background the sun in the sky. I looked out the window to that same shoreline, snow was starting to fill it, it was a Sunday....I'd be outside with my mother right now. I tossed my bag out the door and put a chair in the snowy sand next to it. I returned to my home, where I grew up and picked up the photograph that reminded me of something painful, I struck a match and lit the photograph ablaze. As I dropped it on the floor it began to catch the wooden floor and table. I walked from the house and sat in the chair I had placed in the sand, I wasn't sure if I stayed and watched my house burn to embers because I was simply cold or was hoping I'd forget what had happened.
I had walked a few miles before I stopped to rest in a town far away. I looked up to the doors that read "Inn", I tilted my head before I realized it was a place to stay. The man at the counter asked my name I didn't know what to say to him "Adrian-" I stopped, my mother had given me that name, I didn't want to remember. "My name is Adie." she said to him nodding her head. I didn't want to remember anything about home anymore, not even the names my mother called me. The next day I walked far, a new place. It's really nice here, I found an inn here too. I think I'll go there tomorrow and ask for a job, maybe they will even let me stay there? That would be nice. I've come to the conclusion to keep this journal as a way to still keep part of myself. A way to write what I want to forget but should really remember....Maybe one day, I'll burn this journal too.