A knock on the door roused Anne from her sleep, "Brunch." Anne's mom said, trying to bribe her daughter out of her room with food.

Eventually, she heard the creaking of a bed and Anne opened the door. Her hair was messy and her eyes were puffed up from crying and she refused to look her mom in the face. She took the tray of food with a polite thanks and her mom expected her to slam the door and retreat back into her room - that's what teenagers did right? It's what she used to do at that age - but Anne surprised her once again.

She remained in the doorway, eyes locked to the floor, "Where's my phone?"

She rolled her eyes, of course, what else did she expect from a 17-year-old.

"It broke a few days ago. We meant to go shopping for a new one yesterday, but... I didn't think it was necessary after everything that happened." She waited for Anne to take hold of that opportunity to start the much-needed conversation, but she didn't.

"My laptop then?" Anne continued. Her mind was on a one-way track. Her social media would have what she needed; she had been posting at least twice a week ever since grade 7 and had recently upped it to daily posts. Well, technically that was last year, so unless for whatever reason that habit had changed most of her answers would be online.

"It's at school."

"What?"

Her mom sighed and rubbed the bridge of her nose, "You're a termly boarder, it's currently holidays, and you forgot your laptop at school."

"Oh." Anne wasn't sure how else to respond to that.

Did she even want to respond? Especially as her mom was getting annoyed, which made her annoyed because mom had no reason to get upset at her. It was best to just not say anything, she couldn't handle an argument right now.

"Thank you." She said, not sounding grateful at all, and closed the door. Her mother clicked her tongue and scoffed, "Your welcome." Then left.

She resisted the urge to rip her hair out, "Ignore her. Don't let her get to you." Anne said, tone firm, as she paced around her room. At the rate she was going she could have dug trenches into her fluffy carpet.

No real ideas were in her mind; she was just trying to not get overwhelmed by it all.

Again.

The pacing only made her more stressed though, so she sat down on the floor and processed the new piece of information. So no internet access. Her social media was therefore a dead lead. For now at least, but who knows when she'd get a new phone or laptop or if there was even any signal in such a desolate place as this.

She sighed. She had spent the whole morning thinking out her plan, she would scour her social media platforms and piece together an outline of what had happened, message her friends - if she still even had contact with them - and then ask them questions. It was a long shot but it was the best thing her morning brain could come up with.

Now that she was sitting still, the silence set in and with it came even more questions from that annoying voice at the back of her head, which was slowly clawing its way to the forefront of her thoughts.

Would the distance have strained their relationship? The four of them were best friends forever, they were Daphne, Cassidy, Everlyn and Anne - the group everyone wanted to be - surely they would've still kept in contact despite her moving. Right? They had been through too much to just break up. She cared too much about them, she wouldn't have just given it up.

Questions continued to slam against her skull and rattled her stomach, which threatened to hurl up her food but it was just empty threats as she hadn't eaten since... the day before yesterday? There was nothing to throw up. She glanced at the tray on her desk, the smell of porridge making her mouth water, but then bittersweet memories of Papa and her making oat biscuits in their kitchen swarmed over her appetite and it disappeared. They would make them at the start of every holiday, spend the whole day baking so as to ensure there would be enough biscuits to last at least two weeks. She and her mom had raging sweet tooths and unfortunately a snail-paced metabolism to go with it. This didn't stop her and her dad from baking though. A holiday without homemade biscuits was not a holiday in her house.

Anne gritted her teeth and rose to her feet, the mystery would not be solved by her parking on her backside the whole day. The way people got their memories back in movies was finding familiar objects or places and as she sadly could not teleport, analysing objects it had to be. This room would be the best place to start.

She began at the door, it was stark white as if it had been freshly painted, a shiny handle and hinges as well and there was a single worn black raincoat hanging on the hook. No old posters or stickers stuck on the door that hinted at a bygone childhood as she had at home. Her cupboard was the same, absent of personality, it made her hesitant of what was inside. A bit afraid actually. She prided herself in put-together outfits for any occasion which were of course always Eco friendly or thrifted.

Cassidy was very against fast fashion - as was she obviously - and only shopped at second-hand boutiques or small businesses. Which weren't all that hard to find these days, there was an entire floor dedicated to thrifting at Valleyside Mall.

With bated breath, she opened her closet door, preparing for the worst, but thankfully she was proven wrong. Her clothes were organised by colour and somewhat by season. Her winter clothes were on one side, her summer clothes on the other. Shirts, skirts and pants were kept in wicker baskets while hoodies, sweaters and dresses were hung up. There was far less than she would've liked but she guessed as she was a boarder a good majority of her clothes must be at her dorm or currently in the wash... she didn't know! She had never been a boarder before. She had been promised she would never have to be one by her mother, who had been in boarding schools for her entire schooling career and had hated every moment. It wouldn't have been the first promise her mother had broken though, this accursed house was a glaring example.

She shooed the brewing negative thoughts away, she was investigating, no time to be distracted.

She rifled through her clothes, looking for something extra cute to wear, so she could feel more like herself. She had a feeling she would need to be armoured on this hunt for familiarity.

Eventually, she had settled on a white tennis skirt, a pastel blue button-up and the letterman jacket Everlyn had made for her 15th. Anne couldn't describe the joy she felt when she found it at the back of her cupboard. She almost started crying again as she held it in her hands and soaked in its softness.

Everlyn was amazingly talented at sewing and designing. She was in charge of their group's outfits whenever they went out together, down to the colour of their underwear. Her brother was a photographer for a major modelling company so he came home with the latest trends before they were even printed yet and Everlyn loved gawking over the photos, so Anne loved it too.

Anne traced the embroidered rose that sat where the letter would usually be and a small smile formed on her lips as she reminisced, she'd gone on that awful double date in this jacket, her first school social and on the trip to the Sutherland Planetarium. This was the armour she needed.

She closed her eyes as she changed, which was a challenge, and then marched on to her floating shelves. There were comics, some Roald Dahl, Enid Blyton and her dad's collection of Harry Potter and Percy Jackson - he had read a chapter or two to her every night as soon as she turned ten. They finished the first three books of each series and then it was up to her to decide if she wanted to complete the series. She had tried to finish them but reading wasn't her strong suit and she'd almost given up on the stories, despite how they intrigued her. Then she was introduced to the audiobooks. Both series were finished by the end of that year.

She examined each item on the shelves, hoping one would spark a reaction within her brain, but nothing happened. Anne placed down the picture frame that had a bunch of people in it that she didn't recognise and held back a sigh of disappointment.

"This would be much nicer with music in the background! Then I'd really feel like a detective. A bit hard with no phone though." She grumbled, breaking the heavy silence that had once again settled in her room.

That was another thing she hated about this place, it was unnaturally silent and still. No bugs buzzed through her open window and the wind didn't blow in sounds or smells of bustling life or fallen leaves. It hardly blew at all actually. There was no hum of the highway which would often match in tune with the lull of the waves and at certain times - especially at night down by the pier - with the cars as the backing track and the ocean, the orchestra, a symphony was made between man and nature. There was nothing like that here. Only a few measly crickets which to her ears sounded like a primary school recorder concert.

They hadn't moved away from 'the awful big city and into the glorious countryside' because The Countryside promised peace and tranquillity and rolling hills. Here it was stuffy, suffocating and surrounded by dust fields created by overgrazing. It was a rural area and no matter which angle she looked at it, she couldn't figure out why they had moved here.

She didn't bother examining her mirror, and went straight to her desk. It was the only thing that looked used in her room. Stationery was scattered all over, notebooks stacked haphazardly in one corner, a teacup resting on top of the pile like a king on a throne, paper clippings were strewn about and her different types of scissors, washi tape and shape punches were laying ready and waiting to be used. She had been scrapbooking it seemed.

Anne picked up the notebook that lay open on top of all the mess and admired her handiwork. The page, if she had to guess, was light academia themed with cursive writing as the background, a neutral palette, feather doodles and fake pressed daisies. It wasn't finished judging by the state of the table but she liked it a lot so far. She had gotten good. Also she was in the middle of the notebook already and it was only... What was the date? She paled and carefully placed the book down to let it finish drying completely. How had she forgotten to ask such a simple question? She had been in shock and heavy denial - still sort of was - so maybe that was why she had forgotten.

She could check the calendar in the kitchen... if they even still kept one there.

"This is so frustrating," She bit down on her lip and clenched her fists so tight that her nails dug into her palms. They were so rough and had faded calluses and scars, she whimpered as she looked at her own hands and felt such a violent detachment.

Her legs became numb from standing still for too long. So she pulled out the chair and slumped into it, making the wheels squeak and the chair move back slightly. Her eyes floated along the corkboard, the absence of a calendar and planner disturb her, but then again wouldn't such things be in her dorm? Probably.

She stared blankly at the faces of her role models and favourite celebrities and then her eyes travelled across and down to a small book on the floor which peeked out from underneath her wastebasket.

It was her diary. Her diary.

She leapt out of the chair and scooped it up into her arms, wanting to kiss it but that would be a bit too weird so instead she dived onto her bed and turned on the bedside lamp. This! This was the key she had been searching for. It contained all her thoughts and emotions from the past year. She could free her memories, find out what had happened, feel like herself again and everything would be better.