On the bend of a grassy hilltop, there sat a girl who was still as a statue. She gazed out emptily at the spectacle of a nearby city, shadowed in the light of a forth-coming sunset. Her face seemed blank and mystified, as the rays illuminated her eyes like ambers. A train rumbled by on a nearby rail track and water flowed diligently from a nearby river. But nothing disturbed her. The girl was lost in her mind, thinking the most unusual of thoughts:
I don’t understand. What is this place? Why am I here? Am I meant to be here? It feels so new to me. Do I not come from this place? Do I come from somewhere else...? But if so then...where do I come from? Why can’t I remember? Was I brought here? Was there some reason for it? ... Was I kidnapped?
Just then the girl had a vision. She was somewhere else. It was dark and forbidding, and there were other people around her; scary people. But in an instant the vision was gone and her thoughts continued:
There must be some reason I’m here. Otherwise why would I be here at all? ... So why am I here? Why now? Is there something I have to do?
Just then there was another vision in the girl’s head. She was back in the dark room and one of the scary people handed her something. Then they told her something she had to do; something she didn’t quite understand. It felt like an order or command. Again the vision vanished.
Why does this place seem so familiar?, she thought. I feel like I’ve never been here and yet...yet I...? Have I been here before? Was I born here? Why do I...I...? Who...who am I?
Just then there was a voice behind her. The girl turned suddenly about fearing an attack. There she saw a young woman standing over her with a look of shock and awe on her face, as though she were witnessing something spectacular for the first time.
“Gemma?” said the woman. “Gemma is that you? Where have you been all this time?”
From the moment the girl laid eyes on the woman she sensed there was something important about her, like this moment was what her whole life had been building towards. She did not feel happy, however. She didn’t feel this situation deserved happiness. She stood up.
“Gemma,” the woman said again. “What is it? Why do you look so pale?”
The girl couldn’t remember what to say. What was she was supposed to say at a time like this? What was so important about this woman? Then she felt something bulge in her pocket – the item that had been given to her in her vision – and she remembered everything.
“Gemma, it’s me,” said the woman. “I’m you’re...”
“Of course,” said the girl, cutting the woman off. “I remember.”
And with that she pulled out the gun in her pocket and pointed it at the woman. Smiling weakly, and with a voice as dreamy as the expression on her face, the girl said, “I am sorry,” and pulled the trigger, killing her mother dead.