“And, nowadays, it’s like I can’t get a hold of my life,” My newest client, Katlyn West, began telling me as I sat cross-legged on a black, faux leather chair. Katlyn sat on the matching couch in front of me, her eyes red and puffy from the tears she seemed to have let cease; the tissue I had given her earlier now crumpled in her hand. Her body was hunched slightly; blonde hair trickled down to her knees. She had permeated the room with the fetid smell of perfume, but it wasn’t like I hadn’t smelled the same sort of cheap perfume before from some of my other female clients.

I noticed a dry patch of skin peeling off her knuckle, like old paint on a house, but I simply dismissed it for the effects of the dry, autumn weather. I could tell, even if I hadn’t had her chart to tell me so, that she was an older woman from the creases that dug into her pale skin. They reminded me of craters in the Earth, and I began to wonder, absentmindedly, how much of the Earth this woman had actually seen. It was a stupid thought, but sometimes, I couldn’t help but let my mind wander to these strange places.

I paused for a moment, making sure she had time to finish before I went on. I had to remember that I had a client and there was no time for trivial reverie.

“I see, you feel out of control with your life, and that makes you anxious, is that correct?”

“Yes,” She replied with a solemn glance in my direction, “I was rather anxious when my brother suggested therapy, but I figured I had nothing else to lose,” She then leaned back on the couch, causing it to let out a soft squeak under her weight.

“Well, if you’ll let me, I’m here to help you with whatever you need, Mrs. West,” I replied, flashing her a warm smile.

It was not even five minutes into my exit of my office building that I felt my mobile phone jolt in my purse. I was winded and hadn’t felt much up to the task of answering anyone’s messages, but I would prefer, above all else, to not be rude. Perhaps the message was a dire emergency that needed my care.

I bid my boss, Dr. Richard King, a quick farewell; hoping he didn’t have the enthusiastic energy to start up a conversation as he usually did before I made my way outside. Richard King was a shorter, more rotund gentleman with only a small, snowy mound of hair on his lower lip. I always felt bad walking past his office without saying at least a small greeting. One of his daughters had died in an automobile accident while the other overdosed due to grief. His wife, overcome with depression, had left him with only an empty, dark house full of horrific memories.

In a sense, I was the closes thing he had to a daughter and he was the closest thing I had to a parent.

Still, he didn’t seem to keep me that day, so I took the liberty of seeing myself out.

“Oh geez,” I sighed sarcastically with a roll of my eyes, the light breeze playing with the short strands of my light brown hair as I stood outside the dark mahogany door of my building. The sky was tinted a candy orange with a hint of grapefruit pink. It looked to me like a fruit salad sprawled itself over the Earth. I absolutely loved the late afternoon here in London. The streets weren’t nearly as crowded as they were when I first arrived to work in the morning, but still, the smells of baked goods and clear air always put me in a good mood. I felt that the late afternoon was a peaceful transition to the evening.

I located a secluded place to answer the text. It was an old, dilapidated playground in the back of my humble office with nothing but a couple of rusty benches and an even dirtier looking swing set. I carefully took a seat and dug out my phone out to see what all the trouble was. I took in the crisp smell of the autumn air and vibrant leaves as I tapped open the glowing screen before me.

Happy Birthday to my favorite little sister, Mirella! Come by your flat later, I got you something on my last trip!”

“Aw man,” I sighed silently to myself, I had nearly forgotten all about my own birthday. I was touched, of course, that at least my older brother, Daesyn, had been kind enough to think of me while on his last trip to Cairo, Egypt, but now I could not help but feel slightly guilty. It was my birthday, so naturally, I did not have to buy myself anything but just knowing that I had forgotten the day I was born just did not sit right with me.

Thank you, I will see you in a few

As soon as I was done with my message, I tapped the send button. After a moment of procrastination, overlooking my small part of London from where I sat, I felt my body make its way up until I was on my feet. I shut my phone off and put it in my brown, leather purse.

“What am I going to do with myself?” I chuckled lightly as I started to walk out of the park.

With my first step on a fallen pile of leaves, I heard a piercing screech.

I turned quickly to see, with horrific wonder that the swing was moving on its own, jerking and squealing. I wanted desperately to believe it was the light breeze around me, but the wind was much too tame to cause the swing to move as violently as it did.

“Go away!” I yelled angrily at the inanimate object.

I then began to run as fast as I could away from the cursed playground; my already fragile heart pounding in my chest as the rest of my body began to grow numb due to the drop in my stomach. What was that? Why was the swing moving on its own? Was there something on it that I couldn’t see?

No, It had to be the wind, it had to be.

I bent down in gasping breaths, my hands clasping my knees as I took a minute to let my breath catch up to me. It had been quite some time since I had had to run that far, even as a somewhat regular at my gym, my body still felt the strain of a desperate escape.

At least I got my work out for the day. I thought, trying to calm myself down.

I stood in front of the building that housed my flat, my hands shaking while my legs felt as if they had been injected with Novocain.

“Stay calm, stay calm,” I repeated to myself, again, trying to keep myself at ease; any more mental stress and I would be afraid my heart would pop like a balloon. When I was born, there had been complications with my heart as a result of my mother’s introduction to cocaine upon carrying me in the confinements of her stomach.

I pulled open the large, intricately decorated mahogany doors of the off-white brick building, my home for three years now. I shook my head out, hoping to get rid of the haunting memory of the swing.

I looked up at the dark, empty hallway of the upstairs landing, wondering how I would ever confront my brother after such a long period of time. These stairs had never looked so threatening in the three years I had lived here. In fact, the whole lobby seemed to house a heavy, grey fog of new horrors I had yet to discover.

It’s just a lobby, I thought, clenching my hands tightly at my waist, and upstairs is simply just your brother, nothing can hurt you now, you are almost home.

I took a long, drawn-out deep breath and placed one foot on the first stair, bracing myself to face the memories of my past as they spoke to me in eldritch whispers. I knew I was a coward; I always had been ever since I was a child, and this simple task of walking up six flights of stairs terrified me.

Take it one stair at a time I told myself, with another deep breath.

I then descended the stairs of my long lost memories.

My mom hadn’t always been the one to gorge herself on harmful substances, in fact, as far as I had been told; she had been a friendly, caring mother. Her and my father loved and cared for one another, but it had been a friend of my mother’s who had introduced her to the life-altering substance. My mother didn’t care whom she hung out with, as long as she was with someone (I ultimately learned this had been an effect of her Borderline Personality Disorder, something she had struggled with ever since she was a child.) This need to feel wanted and be with anyone eventually led her down the road of “just trying” cocaine. Thankfully, this wasn’t until after my brother was born that she started consuming, but it did cause complications for me as an infant. I had been through many surgeries to try and fix my heart, but as one would say, nothing can truly fix a broken heart. To this day, the thought of having the one heart attack that could end my life eluded me constantly, and there was no way of removing its eerie presence.

I love my parents dearly, that much I know to be true. Even if they left me with a defect in my heart, they still have a place in it, even if that place aches from time to time.

I breathed a small sigh of relief; I had made it up two flights of stairs with only minor streams of tears. I knew the memories would continue to bombard me as I clambered up the next four flights, but I had to be ready; I had to make it up to see my brother, and so I forced myself to keep marching forward.

My brother and I had the closest relationship within the family; in fact, he was the only member of my family who still kept in touch with me. I idolized him in a way, I had ever since I was a young girl, but he was gone so often that it was hard to keep in touch with him.

He always kept a sense of wanderlust with him. When he was a child, he would always talk about taking a plane to California. He was curious to see what all the buzz was about over there, and naturally, I had wanted to join him.

As we grew older, he kept the same dream of traveling, but I began to branch my goals out to fit my dreams of counseling as both our parents began to grow a rather severe addiction to drugs to the point where they barely recognized us as their children.

My brother wanted to get away from them, but I only wanted to help them. They were my parents; it was not fair that they had to live like that. Unfortunately, me trying to aid them only put a gap between us, and now, they barely contacted me. When they do contact me, it is usually to ask for money. My brother was the only one of my family left who truly cared for me, and for that, I was thankful.

Finally, I had made it to the door of my flat, the two gold numbers hanging on the door told me I was finally home, away from the awful memories of the past. (for that time, anyway.) I began to wipe the tears that had trickled down my cheeks when I heard the door to my flat open. (I had lent Daesyn the spare key to my flat so he could borrow it after coming home from long trips. My flat was the closest to the airport in comparison to his.)

“Mirella?” the voice of my older brother questioned as he made his way into the hallway. His long, light brown bangs concealing part of his brown-eyed gaze, and I began to realize that he had grown a dark tan. He wore a forest green, form-fitting turtleneck with light tan khakis and black Converse. He was also a few more inches taller than I remembered him,

“Are you alright?”

“Daesyn, good afternoon,” I said with an uncomfortable laugh, “I’m fine, really.” I shook my head again, freeing myself of any stray tears, “Listen, I’m sorry about-“

“It’s fine.” He said with a laugh, lightly punching me on the shoulder as if I were one of his guy friends, “it’s kind of weird since we haven’t seen each other in a while, hm?”

“Tell me about it,” I said, fortunate for the fact that Daesyn was the type of person you did not have to explain anything to; somehow, he just knew what was on your mind.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” He sad, hoisting a curious brow.

“I’m fine.” I said, hoping I seemed convincing, “I just had a long day is all.”

“Oh okay,” he said, holding the door open for me, “well, why don’t I get you a drink, and then I will get you your present?”

“Well, thank you,” I replied with a bitten tongue, knowing that if I were to argue about not wanting this to be a bit deal with him, it would be tantamount to arguing with a brick wall.

“Oh, wow,” I said as I began to unwrap a rather extravagant piece of gold jewelry from a sleek, black box.

“You like it?” Daesyn asked with an ecstatic tone, “I found it at a rather fancy market in Cairo,”

“It’s definitely something,” I said with a chuckle, taking a sip of my cranberry juice before I began to examine the piece. The present itself was a rich, royal gold, and from what I could make of it, it looked like a complete set. There was a bracelet with branching chains that held three small rings at their ends. In the middle, there was an oddly shaped cross with an eyeball in the center of it. The center of the eye held a sparkling, purple gemstone, and the same gemstone lined the bottom of the cross.

“The merchant told me the cross-like symbol is called an Ankh, it’s supposedly used to symbolize life, and apparently, was used by the Egyptian goddess Ma’at,” Daesyn began as he came to sit next to me on the couch, his movements causing light ripples to project in my juice, “the eye in the center is called an Udjet, it is supposed to symbolize life and safety, I believe.”

I turned to look at him with a bemused look, trying not to burst out laughing. It was a thoughtful gift, indeed, and I did enjoy extravagant jewelry on occasion. I simply wanted to know what had prompted him to choose this piece in particular.

“You don’t like it?” He said, giving me his “puppy dog eyes”.

“Actually, I think it is quite lovely,” I said, leaning into him with a laugh, “I’m just wondering what made you choose this piece for me?”

“I really don’t know,” He said, shrugging his shoulders, “it just seemed like you,”

“Well, thank you,” I said with a benign smile, “it’s a very thoughtful gift,”

I took one more sip of my juice, then attempted to put the item on. It proved to be a lot easier than I had previously thought.

“Well, would you look at that,” Daesyn said with a click of his tongue, “aren’t you miss fancy pants,”

“You’re an idiot,” I said jokingly, getting up from the couch.

I had to admit; the way the golden Ankh glimmered as it set nicely under my knuckles and above my wrist was rather pleasing to look at. I could not seem to shake the lightheaded feeling that began to wash over me, however.

I took a seat on the couch, hoping desperately that this wasn’t an upcoming heart attack as I turned to look at Daesyn.

“You okay?” Daesyn said in a concerned tone, tilting his head.

“I think so.” I said dismissively as the feeling began to dissipate slightly, “Don’t worry about me though, let’s just continue the conversation.”

“If you say so.” Daesyn said with a small, somewhat unconvinced nod, “ So, how does it feel to be 28?”

“Like every other day,” I said with a humorless laugh.

Once my brother had left, I had begun to get ready for bed. Sleep had begun to set itself over me rather quickly, so much so, that I had completely forgotten my new birthday gift. It still lay shimmering on my arm, becoming part of my body as I settled into bed, my body and mind succumbing to sleep as soon as my head hit the pillow.