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I remember leaving the hospital. I survived the crash with only cuts and bruises. The next day my body felt like I had been run over by a truck. I ached for days. I mourned the loss of my mother. She died at the scene having been decapitated. I was not a child but an adult. I had no choice but to go on with my life. Live as usual, but with the grief of my mother’s death, and the horrible memories of my past hovering over me like an evil spirit. I don’t know what it was then, as the remorse, the realization of my ignorance, the sheltered torture of my existence plagued my psyche. I don’t know what it is now that brings me back to the accident, except for Fay, who is still missing. That is what my mother’s head said to me. She said “Save Fay, save Fay, save Fay.”
She repeated the words over and over again, yet she couldn’t really speak, only her lips moved. Her lips were still controlled by her brain, her thoughts, dispersing awareness, still made conscious sense around her until her body released her spirit. Likely she was wrenched into hell for all the things she had done. I know now it is my mother who is responsible for Fay’s disappearance. Her desperate plea in her last moments to save my daughter were a spurious attempt to urge me on, but were intended to redeem herself. The horror in her eyes reflected the terror of her soul’s prosecution.
I don’t know where to begin in my search, but I will fight until my dying day to save my girl. It’s only now that my captivity and torture begin to make sense, but not as one clear memory. There is the verity of its occurrence and the need to find answers. I must put the pieces of my broken mind together, exploring my unconscious like a depraved labyrinth. There is no other choice but to face my worst nightmares, if I want to find my Fay.