The Annual Thing

"Get away from me! I don't know you!", I screamed as loud as I could. Pleading to get away from the woman that claimed to know and hold me as she wishes. I panted hard. Trying to find ways to escape her right before I stumbled.

My eyes are wide and I'm breathing hard. Sweat dripping down my faces. A dream. I look around. I don't know how I got here but here I am. On a train. Surrounded by unfamiliar crowds who are looking over at me like I'm some sort of non-human creatures. Is it my unorganize outfit? Is it my dark eyebags that indicate that I haven't been sleeping? 

I turned to face the window, fixing my shoulder-length hair. I hate this. Clutching to my bag like its my life, I stepped out of the train. Everyone impatiently bumped into me like I'm some sort of a toll that you need to go through first.

A polaroid that has been in my hand from the start slipped off my hand. Blinded by the crowds, I tried with all my might to get that in my grip again. It's not a mere polaroid. It's a picture of me and someone with an address written on it.

"Oops. Is this yours?", a woman asked picking up the polaroid that she already stepped on. It's a little bit smeared by the dirt, not that I care where the woman has been.

"My dear, are you alright? You look like a chaos.", she inched closer. Her face changes when I didn't respond to her and then, she touched me. She touched me. She combed my hair using her fingers gently. My strands of hair are in between her fingers, her fingertips are tracing my scalp. 

It is odd, isn't it? Letting a stranger touched you. I had this feeling at first, fuming with anger, I wanted to slap her hands aside, grab my polaroid and walk away yet here I am, glued to my position as if she puts a spell on me. The woman isn't that old but if I were to guess, she might be in her 30s with a husband and kids.

"Is something bothering you, young lady?", she asked, putting the polaroid in my hands. Done fixing my hair, she moved to my outfit. She folded my collar neatly and double up my sleeves. Both of them.

"Where are you heading, miss?", trying to be polite, I'm guessing.

"That address, I suppose.", she cut me off as I was about to speak.

"None of your business, ma'am. I've got to go if you'll excuse me.", I uttered sternly. I don't know where my voice went but it's back so whatever.

"I know that place. I could take you if you wanted me to. You looked like you're not familiar with the area.", she continued. A little loud. I hate how she's right. This place has changed since the last time I was here. Since the last time my foot stepped here. At the very train station. Everything is just so different. I stopped and sighed. I could hear her little steps catching up to me. She linked her arms excited.

"Let me hope that you're not a serial killer or human trafficker.", I muttered under my breath.

"You've got a sense of humour!", she laughed.

We've been walking, for hours. I'm in doubt if we're even getting closer to the exit now.

"What's your name?", the woman said, still got strength to keep walking. I don't even know how she did it.

"Q.", I answered short. It has been and will always be my nickname.

"Cheating. Come on. What's your first full name?", she asked again, emphasizing every word.

"Cinnamon sounds nice, right? I'm gonna call you that.", she concluded.

"Quinn. The name's Quinn.", I gave up. I can't have another person creating nicknames for me. Not anymore.

"Here we are!", she half screamed.

"A restaurant?", disbelief.

"Yes, you've gotta eat, hun. You looked terrible. Just a little bit. I'll show you the way right after one meal on me.", she pleaded.

"Do you take me for a fool?", I asked in monotonous. I felt like I'm going to burst, but then, my stomach grumbled. I rolled my eyes to the giggling woman in front of me. I concede defeat as I followed the woman into the restaurant. 

I just keep quiet and sometimes I think a little bit too much that I lost touch with reality whereas she keeps ordering food and converse with the waiter as if she's a regular.

"My favourite.", I mumbled. Okay. It's getting creepier. How the heck did she know? I know it's not random. I stared at her, trying to interpret her expression.

"What are you doing? Reading my mind? That's not gonna work.", she said playfully, shaking her head while chewing fries. She laughed. It sounded so innocent that I zipped my mouth and just eat the food that was served right in front of me.

"Looked like a child, ate like a child.", she joked. Wiping the mayonnaise that landed at the corner of my lips with a tissue.

"I can manage.", I replied coldly but still, I allow her hands to touch my face. This woman is like a curse, tangled to me, I can't seem to hate her or make her leave by being myself.

"What's your name?", she stopped. Her face fell just for a split second before it lits up with a reply yet not an answer, "Guess!"

"Ah. Nevermind, then.", again, I rolled my eyes and she laughed. How could you possibly hurt this kind of people?

"Finish. Let's go. It's getting dark. Pretty sure it'll close soon.", I said pulling her by her arm. Surprised by my action, I pulled away. She looked at me unbelievably. She squinted her eyes then again she chuckled.

"You love laughing, don't you? Now now, no more tricks, lead the way please.", I said casually polite. How did I go from cold to this? She looked pleased that she smile until her eyes can't be seen. She walks. Fast. It's getting hard for me to catch up.

"Finally! Fresh air!", I breathed in as I trudge the exit. Relieved. I don't like air conditioner. She seemed like she was looking for something and as I open my mouth. "Taxi!", she loudly spoke with one of her hands in the air waving to a cab. I followed without a word.

The speed of the cab isn't that fast and isn't that slow. The surrounding was filled with talls cemented buildings at first, but as the cab drives, it turned into an environment significantly different from the city. The grass is greener, the sky is lovely from the combination of orange and blue. The sun, oh, the sun, kisses me on my left cheek tons of times even when we're separated by trees sometimes.

I shut my eyes tightly. Feeling the warmth of the sun. I would roll the window down if the driver didn't forewarn us about the stuck window. I want to feel the wind hitting my face. The cab suddenly stopped.

"We're here.", the taxi driver said, pulling her handbrake and turned to us. I opened my eyes and see the woman handed the man money.

"I could pay.", I stated rushingly going through my handbag for some cash.

"It's okay. You can pay me another time. Let's get off.", she said smiling. Sincerely. We both got off and the destination was shocking to me. I don't quite recall the place. So this is it. The address.

I walked past the old building to meet with a gate with a keeper. He opens the gate, allowing me to enter some sort of a garden. The woman followed me quietly. I'm not sure which way I should go but my feet confidently, arrange its steps towards a stone. Stone written, 

"Here lies Annie Quinn, 1980-2020."

I'm at a cemetery. 

"Remember her? You loved her dearly.", the woman's voice ached through the space. Without me realizing, my tears are already racing to my chin.

"Who? What?", I whispered, just enough for her to listen. I'm stunned, speechless. Who is this lady that's been with me all this time? And who is she laying here and why does it hurts? 

My heart throbs. It aches. Tears are still competing and pouring on the ground. I couldn't fathom this. I placed my hand to my chest where it hurts the most. I feel this overwhelming impulse to cry out, to sob, to weep with no exact knowing reason why. What is this insurmountable grief I'm feeling? Why can't I remember? Why am I even here?

"Katherine Quinn, your name. You got into an accident with her, she died and you, suffered with head injuries for the rest of your life. This is an annual thing, actually. You always come back for her every year with me. Your love for her is too great that it could lead you back to her without the need to remember anything, every single year. A miracle, really.", she clarified.

 I turned to look at her. She isn't looking at me nor the grave. Confused, I followed her gaze. She's looking out to the rest of the graves and how painfully beautiful the sun shines above them all. With this heavy feelings in my chest, I turn to the sun, hand still on my chest. I breathed in and this longing feeling consumed me parallel to my breathing. And I know one thing for sure. She loves the sun. Annie loves the sun.