The feelings I had when I was watching Tony quickly evaporated. Like a sneaking skeleton, all the emotions I didn't want returned.

My feelings usually had an accompanying image. 

Happiness - Tavy's face.

Anger - the principal's face.

Calmness - Mum's face.

Protection - Dad's face.

Intelligence - my face.

Pain - depended on the circumstance.

Love - a canvas of colour that could be black, white, or the dotted black and white of a static television screen.

But when I had overwhelming mixed emotions, painful memories came back. It always felt like I was reliving them.

I didn't want that to happen. I needed another distraction.

That was why I drove the tricycle to the hostel instead of walking even though it was against the school rules. When I got to the door, I composed myself and walked with quick, steady steps.

The female hostel was a building divided into several en-suite bedrooms. Each room had four wooden twin beds with storage, and four small wardrobes.

In my room, I  saw that two beds were empty. The year three and two students that occupied them were not in school yet. On the other side of the room, Tavy's bed and mine were joined together and well made. My box was already on my side of the bed.

Pink happy birthday decorations were on the wall and a table was smack in the middle with a variety of snacks, junk food and drinks. Tavy kept adding more snacks to the table until she noticed me. She squealed and hugged me.

I slowly hugged her back making sure she didn't see my face.

"I missed you so much," she said. "How was your holiday?"

"It was fine."

"Did you enjoy it?" She moved back and looked at me.

I kept my face straight. "Yeah."

"Hey. Are you angry with me? I'm sorry we didn't spend the holiday together. Dad planned the trip last minute and before I could come and see you, we were on the way to the airport. You received my message, right?"

Her eyes peered into my face the way they usually did when she was trying to read my expression.

I shrugged and turned around. Better for her to think I was angry with her than for her to know what was really going on - how every emotion I had brought pain, how I was trying so hard not to remember.

"I couldn't come home today because I had to bring all my birthday goodies to school before the students search started."

I gave her a small smile. "It's okay. We're okay."

She grinned and sat beside me. She started unpacking the box with me.

"So, how was your holiday? Mine was beautiful and I'll tell you all the juicy details." And she talked about her trip, the tourist attractions, and her holiday boyfriend. She gestured rapidly, demonstrating the details.

I let her honeyed voice wash over me. I interjected with the appropriate oohs and aahs, giggling when I knew she expected me to. But I wasn't listening.

Tavy reminded me of six-year-old Riley or Riley Six. When Tavy's hands moved in the air and she smiled broadly, I saw Riley Six running on the field, plucking corns and using them as swords while kicking in the air. When she bounced on the bed, I saw Riley Six jumping up and down the bed, squealing and throwing pillows.

"Riley, Riley."

Tavy saying my name made me come back to the present.

"Uh?"

She touched my arm and I stiffened.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing," I croaked.

"Yeah, right. You have the robot face on. What happened?"

I closed my eyes and breathed in and out slowly. Riley Six had vamoosed a long time ago. What was left was dry, quiet, sad me and the vow of 'Silent, Emotionless, No Feeling'. I should control myself.

I shook my head. "I can't."

She placed her hand on my shoulder and smiled gently.

My voice became a whisper. "I can't react to things normally. I overreact to everything."

"Why do you think you overreact?"

Disturbing images went through my mind. I looked away. I pulled my knees to my chest and let my chin rest on it.

She smiled again and brushed away the hair hanging over my eyes with her fingers.

I couldn't tell her about Riley Six. It's not that I didn't want to. It simply was better not to remember.

My life had been extremely perfect before Mum told me. After two years of staying at home, I finally got an invitation to be admitted into a good Secondary School. Madeline had informed my parents about a scholarship examination.

I was the only person among two hundred and thirty four candidates to pass the exam. Two other schools came to me after that but I chose Madeline because I lived in the same town as the school.

They claimed I was very intelligent, maybe a genius. They didn't test my IQ but my exam results were enough. I got a half scholarship. I became the academic star of the school. I was quiet, stubborn, studious, always top of my class and teachers either loved me or hated me.

Then my life crashed.

Two years ago, on one sunny holiday, Mum and I were cooking rice and chicken stir fry. I was smiling and singing.

She stared at me for a while as I twirled and danced while deboning the cooked chicken.

"Thank God Riley has fully recovered from what happened when she was six," she said to herself.

"What happened to me when I was six?" I said, slicing the flesh off the bone and putting some in my mouth.

Her head quickly snapped up.

"Nothing," she said and continued dicing the vegetables.

Unfortunately, that was the wrong answer.

One of the perks of being an academic brainiac was that it came with a mountain of inbuilt curiosity, and an accurate photographic and sensual memory.

As I cut the chicken into long, rectangular pieces, my curiosity was piqued. I searched my memory files to know what happened.

I had snippets of memories from when I was three and four. I remembered my five-year and seven-year-old life upwards. But I couldn't remember being six years old. I couldn't remember my classroom or teacher or who my friends were. It was as if a grenade had blown out those memories.

I picked another piece of chicken to put in my mouth. The smell of curry and thyme tantalised my senses and it struck me. Somebody was cooking chicken the first day the incident occurred.

My hand stopped midway and I dropped the chicken hurriedly. It fell on the yellow chopping board. Images hit my mind - cream almost-yellow walls, the hem of a long yellow gown. The next image on my mind was a canvas of black colour. A little ache settled in my head. I closed my eyes and scrunched them up. I asked myself what came after the gown.

The pain increased.

I picked the knife and cut the chicken in fast motion.

A room came into view. A low rumbling laughter began to crescendo in my mind until I couldn't hear the sound of the knife slicing.

My head started pounding. My grip on the knife became slack and it fell to the floor.

Mum gasped and picked it up.

I held my head and sat down. "Mum, I need to know."

She placed a cool, wet cloth on my forehead. "Some things are better forgotten."

I, however, did not want to forget. I wanted to know why my brain had decided to block that memory. So, I dug through my memories again.

One thing was striking. Before I became six, I was the Riley who laughed. I commanded everyone and talked as long as I was awake. By the time I was seven, I became the Riley who never talked. I stayed in my room all day and shied away from people.

What happened?

"Mum, please tell me what happened," I said.

The migraine got worse.

I asked her over and over again and my migraine kept increasing until I was screaming out in pain while asking.

Her eyes were closed. She massaged my head gently. "Stop Riley, please stop."

My screams turned to whimpers.

"You were raped several times," she said.

The floodgates opened and like a tsunami, all the memories rushed in.  My breathing became rapid. My heart beat hard on my chest.

The tips of Mum's fingers kept massaging. Her other hand guided my back, bringing me to hug her.

My face was buried in her stomach, hidden - just like the memories had been. I was different. I was shattered and tainted.

I had always wanted my first time to be with someone special. I wanted my virginity to be a gift. I guess I was never given the chance.

My life never remained the same after that chicken stir fry day.

I couldn't tell Tavy. How could I tell her that Riley was once boisterous and filled with laughter like her? I couldn't tell her that there was a Riley who loved to wear flay gowns, draw beautiful things and cook a delicious food of sand, sugar, flour and stones for her imaginary children. That the Riley had metamorphosed into a different person because of a series of incidents.

My hands were shaking, head aching.

She rocked me back and forth while hugging me.

"Please, tell me," she said.

"I..." My mouth quivered and shut.

"You shouldn't lock all your emotions inside," she said. "Share them so that we can carry the burden together. That's what friends are for."

Her soft fingers moved my hair to the back of my ear. Her smile reached her eyes. Just like Riley Six.

The next thing I knew, her hands were wiping away something wet on my face. Her hair joined in the task. My chest heaved and audible sobs came from my mouth.

For the first time in two years, tears rolled down my cheeks.
   
  

*******
 
  
  
So, what kind of emotions did this chapter make you feel? Let me know in the comments.

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