I have been having flashbacks. For anyone who has experienced a hugely traumatic event – that sentence will mean a great deal. It is almost four years since an event occurred that was, well, dreadful. Memories – so powerful. All alone in the moonlight.
I have not been back to the Heath for a long time. I did intend to go and remind myself of how lovely it is. But I just have not. And now I find it’s all these horrid memories that are pummelling me.
I am at work, I am on the bus, I am cleaning my kitchen when suddenly…I am back there, lying in the grass. All alone in the moonlight.
I recall sitting on the bench. The moment I became disturbed because I suddenly knew there was something wrong. I became aware that this was not safe. I should not be there. It was now dark. There was nobody else around whichever direction I looked. Only him. I was on my feet I was moving quickly. I remember the force that I felt upon my shoulders pushing me down.
I remember a lot more. Although I choose not to think about it, the flashbacks defeat my willpower. Moments of horror and fear and disgust and fear and outrage and fear fill me.
It must have been hours that I was lying there afterwards. It did not feel like hours. I must have been unconscious for a long time. There are moments that come back to my mind though of seeing the leafy branches above me and the sky. All alone in the moonlight. “Keep breathing” are the words that swim around my mind.
Then there was Gary. It was Gary who found me. It was Gary who called the ambulance.
This year I have had moments when the memories come…and I then as they fade, I feel so much anger. I think towards Jack, but I know it is not his fault. But I don’t know who else to be angry with.
I know it will settle. It is just this time of year. It’s been the same the last three summers. Lots of flashbacks. But I love summer. I am so glad I have my Australia trip to look forward. I am so glad I will be with Goldfinch exactly four years after it happened.