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One Sunday in 1971, Mary and Megan’s weekly picnic was sabotaged by the
pouring rain and thunder, but Megan still insisted that they go.
‘It’s our special time, Mum, no thunderstorm can stop me from going.’
After sitting under a small pink umbrella on a bench covered in
rain drops and eating their delicious jam sandwiches, Mary was
eventually persuaded to play chase in the pouring rain.
Every day that I get the chance I always go to visit her. Probably
because I feel guilty leaving her with people she doesn’t know. That
eats at me every single day, but I know it is the right choice for she
and I. On the last few occasions that I visited, the sun has been out
so we can go on beautiful walks and sit outside. Today the sky is dark
and it’s pouring down with rain. I can see the millions of tiny
droplets running down my car window.
Every morning that I wake up I don’t know where I am. I can’t remember
what happened the day before, and I lie in silence. But this morning as I woke up,
I heard pounding on the roof. I couldn’t figure out what it was until a lady came
to get me out of bed and mentioned that it is raining. That is the sound I heard
and couldn’t remember. The nice young lady helped me into a wheelchair and
pushed me out into a long hallway that led into a large room full of other people.
‘Welcome back, Megan, it’s been a while,’ Ellie, the lady at the
front desk said to me while I was signing in.
‘Yeah, I had an extra busy week last week.’
‘Well, I’m glad you could come and visit her, Mary isn’t doing very
well,’ Ellie said to me while I was punching in the code for the door.
As soon as I entered the living room, I felt a great sense of sadness
and loneliness, and it almost brought a tear to my eye. I searched the
room for her face and found it, staring out the window into oblivion.
She was sitting all by herself in the corner.
I can always find peace when I sit by myself. I can never seem to properly
connect with anyone and when I think about it, I don’t know any of these people.
But I do love watching these millions of tiny rain droplets running down the
window. I am following two at the moment waiting to see which one will win the
race to the bottom. A beautiful young girl sits down next to me on the couch, I can
see my reflection in her blue eyes, and the light that is hitting her blonde hair
distracts me from what I was doing.
‘What are you doing over here?’ she says, her voice was so kind and loving. I
can’t remember what I was doing just a moment ago, though, and I don’t know
how to tell her that, so I just turn away.
She’s a completely different person compared to what she used to
Forgotten
Hannah Worley
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