There was a knife, strange, sharp and bloody. She blinked the memory away, her eyes feeling dry.
There was a knife, but it was dull and dripping red with jam. She watched the drops stain the tablecloth, and she spread the jam on her toast.
She had these flashes all the time. Memories so hard-wired into her brain that they came unbidden, like rummaging through old trunks, finding things she wasn't looking for. Sometimes getting pricked by old, sharp things she had forgotten were there, and could hurt her.
Someone was in the other room. She got a glimpse of her through the door - tall girl. She couldn't remember her name. She searched her mind - brown skin and green eyes, lots of curls, and her loud jewelry clanging when she moved. Such a familiar sound. She could hear her in the other room. She just called her 'Honey' if she needed her to do something.
New memories faded so fast, they were like water, slipping through her fingers, going down the drain. She looked at her wrinkled old hands, wet. Had she been washing her face? She looked up. Mirrors were so startling. Everywhere she turned that old woman stared at her. What did she want? The old woman peered from windows - looking surprised to see her - from mirrors, from the shiny plaques that hung in the hall.
She couldn't remember how she got from room to room. She swam in the whirlpool of the past. Things jumbled together, memories rearranged themselves so they didn't make sense. She just hoped there would be nice ones, soft caresses not blows, human faces smiling, saying loving things not those other, vile ones, growling and gnashing at her.
Her mother with her soft curls smiling, her big limpid eyes kind. A picture of love. How could she be the mother to this old woman in the mirror? She couldn't be. This old woman didn't belong there.
She smashed the mirror. So easily. Her palm was bloody. Pieces of the mirror sparkled in the sink. Honey came running at the noise.
"Not again. That's the last time, you know. You break two, you don't get another one."
She smiled. That was OK with her.
The end