Anna learned soon enough that there weren’t many weapons as sharp as her mother’s tongue. She had bled everywhere from its cuts. There was an unfixable leak in her heart that dripped on steadily like a faulty water faucet. She knew how to hide her reaction though, how to bury the pain until it didn’t feel real. Unfortunately, she buried her joys too. There just wasn’t enough room to work through her feelings and still clock in every day. There were days she found her smile from the moments her mother called her, Anna. Anna meant she was back momentarily. Anna meant she would eat her food and they wouldn’t stain the walls or the floors. Anna meant she would be smiling too. Anna meant a good day. It was Rosaline she was afraid of. Twice when she was Rosaline, the woman had said the viliest things. Whatever happened then, Anna’s mother was stuck in that history with that person and that memory. She remembers when the doctor shared her mother’s diagnosis. She knew this would become her life- A life that could be easier to live if she could figure out who Rosaline was.
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