.

'There used to be something there, wasn't there, once upon a time?' and she runs her fingers along her stomach, touching scars and bruises that, she knows, are meant to mean something. She feels like she's just going through the motions, there's something she doesn't need to do right now, and something she needs to do (remember).

Pancakes in the kitchen are probably burning – she swears to God there was a reason she use to make them first thing Saturday morning – so she checks on them in her empty kitchen in silence, save for the birds singing and the waves crushing.

Something is so very, very wrong with this house (home), she feels. The picture frames in the hallway, filled with (family) memories of her and her husband, to the brim, feel wrong, like something is out of place in each of them: the family holidays, weddings, Christmas and Aunt Liz's 50th wedding anniversary. Something is so very wrong with these (family) photos. Something is so very wrong with this (family) picture.

She's waiting for her (a) prince to save (make) her (remember her prince).

Munching on pancakes shaped like birds (someone used to love that, she knows but she can't quite figure out who and she's far too busy to figure it out), she stares at the spare room in her house. There are glow-in-the-dark(ness) stars (for a dreamer) on the ceiling and a plain white bed by a window that looks awfully empty (and tidy, though why would it be messy). The air smells like the sea here, and dreams of birds Soaring. She wonders why she didn't take the room closest to the sea. It has quite the view.

She sits on the bed and it feels like— (Christmas? Santa? Paper from old story books? Nuzzling? FAMiLY—?). It smells like— (the Sea? The Sky? Sweat? The blood off knees? Old soda spilt and stained on the floor? M—m—y's pancakes on Saturday morning—?). This room is so empty and cold. She decides that she wouldn't want to sleep in it anyway. She curls up on the bed anyway, knees to her chest, listening to the birds and waiting for a KEY to UNLOCK what she can't understand.

'Something's missing, isn't it?'

And she cries for her lost something (her lost everything).

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postscript;

(She watches the sky with hope of new horizons, and dreams of Soaring with—

She falls asleep to the sound of the waves and the birds and children laughing,

and dreams of PRINCES, STARS and BLUE SKIES COMING HOME!)

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NOTES:

1. – About Sora's mother while no one can remember him. Sora would have been such a mummy's boy.
2. – The brackets after the word is what it is meant to be, because, obviously, she can't remember. Unnecessary Capitalization on 'Soaring' was intended. I need to stop the bracketabuse.
3. – Many allusions to Sora were fun.
4. – It's short, yeah I know. I don't really like the third last paragraph (Feels like/Smells like). As a whole, it's okay considering I haven't written anything for ages.

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