"Hey, Dad? I'm going to go take a walk," Elodie said as she stood by the front door. 

There was no response. Elodie sighed and found her father in front of the TV. He was staring into space, an unfocused look in his eyes. She turned around and walked down the short hall to her brother's home office. She knocked tentatively. "Adam?"

There was the sound of papers shifting and drawers opening and closing coming from behind the door. "Yeah? Come in," Adam replied.

Elodie eases the door open. Her oldest brother, Adam, is thirty-three years old. They have four other siblings-two more brothers, two more sisters. Elodie was the youngest out of them all. 

She smiled at him. "Hey, I'm going to go for a walk, if you need me," she told her brother. She didn't miss the exhaustion in his warm green eyes, or the long moment that it took him to process her words.

He nodded. "Alright, cool. I'll see you later, yeah? How's Dad?"

"He's watching TV, I think," Elodie lied. Just because he was [i]sitting[/i] in front of a TV that just [i]happened[/i] to be on didn't mean that he was watching it. But Adam had enough on his plate already.

Elodie headed up the stairs. Her room was painted a bright orange-yellow; like the Prismacolor pencil called "Spanish orange". She finds her Prismacolors, now, and stashes them into her backpack. Elodie rummages through the disorganized pile of textbooks and binders and notebooks sitting in the corner of her room until she comes across her sketchbook-it's ratty and torn-up and probably ten years old at this point, but Elodie loves it with all her heart. The sketchbook goes into her backpack as well. Finally, she slips into her favorite pair of boots, dons a light cardigan over her turtleneck, and bounds down the stairs and out the door.

The air was crisp and cool. Elodie sighed. It reminded her of Alaskan summers; all cool breezes and golden sunlight in the mornings, and pale, watercolor sunsets and soft moonlight during the short periods of darkness. Alas, it was nearing the end of autumn in her new home, and all the leaves had been red and gold and brown for over a month now. 

Elodie began walking aimlessly down the street, letting her feet take her where they wanted. She checked her phone-one of her friends from Alaska had texted her that morning. Elodie rubbed her temples, then put her phone away. She would formulate a proper response later. Kyra was truly one of the sweetest people that Elodie had ever met, and she was also one of the few people that Elodie remembered after the accident-they had been friends since kindergarten-and yet...things were still [i]different[/i]. The Elodie Kyra knew and loved was bubbly and outgoing. Post-accident Elodie was distant and depressed, more often than not. Elodie tried to be her "former" self for Kyra, if only to keep the other girl from worrying about her, and honestly, it was very draining. Even when the most that they could do was text each other. Needless to say, those text conversations tended to be rather one-sided.

Elodie paused in the middle of the sidewalk. Where was she going again? Had she ever decided? She rubbed her eyes. Did she tell her dad or her brother where she was going, or did she just walk out without either of them noticing? It was so goddamn [i]difficult[/i] to remember even the simplest of things, nowadays. The doctors and nurses Elodie had talked to in Alaska weren't sure why this was happening. Elodie didn't know why, either. All she knew was that she was always tired and never wanted to sit through another history lesson again, because who the hell was Henry Kissinger and why was he important? What were Mikhail Gorbachev's three major policies? And why, for that matter, had the Native Americans helped the damn Englishmen?

The teacher had gone over all of this, and more, with Elodie, one-on-one, again and again and [i]again[/i]. So why couldn't she just [i]remember[/i]? At this point, it was just embarrassing. Elodie didn't remember being thought of as especially book-smart before the accident, but she somehow knew, deep down in her heart, that she wasn't [i]dumb[/i], either. She could learn new skills, memorize facts. And now...she couldn't.

Elodie squeezed her eyes shut. [i]No. I am not thinking about this right now. I am [/i] not[i] thinking about this bullshit right now,[/i] she thought to herself. She took a deep breath, then re-opened her eyes.

Elodie realized with a start that she had walked out of her cul-de-sac and towards the small forested area near the edge of town. She climbed up a small hill and stood at the top for a moment, simply listening to the sound of her breathing. In the distance, she could see the highway that led out of her town, headlights whizzing past like fireflies. Elodie turned to the other direction, where nothing was visible but trees and darkness. Elodie lay in the grass, staring up at the night sky. Stars twinkled down from up above, and Elodie stared upwards, trying to keep her thoughts from overcrowding her mind.

Some time later, Elodie sat up, distantly remembering that she should probably get home before Adam got worried. She stood up, brushed herself off, and began making her way back down the hill and towards home.