Hello Hello Steemians 

Here's another challenge set by @steveblucher with @zord189 and @jaynie of @SteemitBloggers. It's StoryTime, the challenge Writing a Story. We had a choice of 6 starters to choose from:-
> Story starters:
> 1. "I awoke this morning, sweat pouring down my brow..."
> 2. "If only I hadn't said..."
> 3. "By the time I reached the train station, she/he was gone."
> 4. "One of the biggest secrets of my life was going to be revealed."
> 5. "The subway stopped suddenly inside the tunnel."
> 6. "The cemetary was rather quiet on my annual visit."

And so without wasting time, let's get to it. We are supposed to use any one to start the story...



<center>![b85qa5bd1i.png](https://img.esteem.ws/b85qa5bd1i.png)</center>

### I awoke this morning, sweat pouring down my brow...
 and I knew it had happened again. I thought I had it under control. I checked my phone. The date showed 29th September. Damnit!! Two days. Two missing days. Where did I go? Why can't I remember anything. When did I put on this dress? I hate this dress. Red!! 

I knocked my head. Like that would shake something out. Like Dad used to when the television would have fuzzy lines on it. Dad was great at knocking things. Mum used to say "The bastard knocked me up and then runs for the hills."  Knocking always fixed the TV, knocking wasn't helping me remember. 

I am getting bits and pieces of events that is confusing me. I know I would never, ever walk into a bar and dance on the table top. That's for whores. But it just feels so real.  Maybe I'm just stupid and crazy. How many people have told me I'm crazy? Maybe they are all right. I am losing it. But I know better. It's just a dream. A dream that keeps haunting me. 

*Aaaaaaaah!!!*. Is that me? Yes, that horrible sound is coming from me.  I bang the kitchen counter and my coffee mug hits the floor shattering into pieces. The smell of stale coffee hitting me. 

2 seconds later, as expected, my upstairs neighbour knocks my ceiling, her floor with something hard. Almost like all she ever did was to wait with her broom stick, because surely that's what she's holding. Don't all witches hang on to their broomsticks? She should just jump on it and go for a long effing ride and never come back. 

![text01.png](https://cdn.steemitimages.com/DQmZSJ8jY8rVQrN3jGZcPrqeJpTHGW68AkyhEipSrqspmaX/text01.png)

### If only I hadn't said 
I didn't need him anymore. If only I hadn't chased him away. Why am I always so angry? No!! I will not cry!! No, not today. I don't need anybody. If it was this easy for him to walk away then maybe it is for the best. 

Two missing days!! I could be dead. But obviously he didn't care. He didn't care to check on me. I don't need a man like that. Is that the phone? Where did I leave it? There!!

That's the wonderful thing about living in an apartment like this. Everything is within arms reach. The stove, the bed, the TV. I laughed. I must have sounded hysterical. Maybe a bit too loud. 

Because there she is knocking on my ceiling again. I grabbed my broom and knocked back. *Two can play this game.*

"Come on!! Let's see what else you got?!"

The phone started vibrating again. It's his number. There are 311 missed calls from him. 77 messages. *Sorry. Please pick up. Is everything ok? I am starting to worry. I am outside your door. Please open. I know you are in there. I can hear you....*

The phone rang again. I hung up. I didn't want to talk to him. Ping. A message. *If you really, really don't want to have anything to do with me anymore, I understand. I am leaving today. My train is at 7pm. I love you.*

Coward!! Running away! I splashed some water on my face, a quick wash up, grabbed my jacket and walked out the door. I wasn't sure what I was doing, but I knew where I was going. 

![text01.png](https://cdn.steemitimages.com/DQmZSJ8jY8rVQrN3jGZcPrqeJpTHGW68AkyhEipSrqspmaX/text01.png)

### By the time I reached the train station, he was gone. 
3 minutes too late. The story of my life. Nothing fit. Everything an intertwined mess. I wiped the tears that were pouring down. I didn't want to cry. *Please, stop crying you fool. No tears! No Tears!!*

I took a deep breath. No, it didn't ease the tears. I couln't stop it. People were looking at me. A little boy saw me and hid his face in his Mum's skirt. Yes, precious Mum. Mum will save the day. Wish my Mum was here. She'd know how to fix this. She always did. She fixed everything. She was the fixer-upper. Nothing escaped her. 

A salesgirl came up to me, handing me some sample. Then saw my face and quickly stepped back and pretended she never saw me and continued to hand out samples in the other direction. 

It didn't bother me. I was used to people avoiding me. As if I was a plague. People whispering in corners, looking at me, pretending not to look at me. Missing days. Missing people. Missing mum. Missing dad. Missing him. I am missing him. I MISS HIM!!

It's raining. I love the rain. It's cleansing me. It's washing away my pain. It is washing away my tears. My stupid, stupid tears. My useless tears. I stopped at the entrace of the train station. Wishing and hoping that I could turn back time. Maybe do things a little different. Maybe, I should have told him. Maybe he would have understood. Maybe - 

Someone touched my shoulder, I turned to look and there he was. Was he crying too? We held on to each other tight. I knew it was time. 

![text01.png](https://cdn.steemitimages.com/DQmZSJ8jY8rVQrN3jGZcPrqeJpTHGW68AkyhEipSrqspmaX/text01.png)

### One of the biggest secrets of my life was going to be revealed. 
Would it scare him? Maybe it should scare him. If it didn't, what would that mean? That this is normal? That this is ok? It is not. No more lies. Enough of the black outs. Enough of the tears. 

I wiped his tears away and suddenly felt like laughing. Everything was so absurd. I laughed. He started lauging too. We must look a sight. People were looking at us almost with pleasure. They see two people in love, standing in the rain, like in the movies. But there's more to this story. There's as much pain as pleasure. More pain than pleasure.

We walked back into the station soaking wet. We looked at each other and laughed again. How did it get so messy? He didn't leave me after all. He would never leave he says. He couldn't do it he says. But maybe when I tell him. Maybe then he would.

The voices are screaming in my head. *Do it! Do it! Do it!! Tell him now. Just say it.* But my mouth, there's nothing coming out. My smile, I touched my mouth, yes it's still there. Plastered. I can't wipe it off. Just like I couldn't stop the tears. I am losing control. 

We got on our subway and he held me close to keep me warm. 

![text01.png](https://cdn.steemitimages.com/DQmZSJ8jY8rVQrN3jGZcPrqeJpTHGW68AkyhEipSrqspmaX/text01.png)

### The subway stopped suddenly inside the tunnel. 

I looked out. And there she was the witch from upstairs. How did she fit into the space between the train and the tunnel? She was on her broom. She smiled as she passed by. 

That's it. Now I remember very clearly. I need to tell him before I go missing in my head again. She always appears at the start and and the end. She always let's her presence be felt. She's in my head. She's not real. Yes, yes. Doctor Getty told me. She's my marker. She's not real. When I see her, I need to center myself. Finger to thumb. Finger to thumb. 

No wait!! She's sitting in the train. She's knocking the floor with her broom. I looked out the window she was at just a while ago. I looked back at her, and she was smiling. I looked up at him, and I could tell he loved me. Did he love me enough to know that The Witch is here with us? Would he help me chase her away?

No, No!! She's not real. I closed my eyes tight. Finger to thumb. Finger to thumb. Go Away! Go Away! I chanted in my head. Maybe out loud. I don't care!! Get her away. Look at her!! ...Get her awayyyy.

![text01.png](https://cdn.steemitimages.com/DQmZSJ8jY8rVQrN3jGZcPrqeJpTHGW68AkyhEipSrqspmaX/text01.png)

### The cemetry was rather quiet on my annual visit. 
How did I get here? I looked around. I checked my phone. Damn it!! 8 days missing. 8 bloody days. This is the longest. But it is  7th October. Mum's death anniversary. 

I never miss it. Ever. It didn't matter where or when. I am always here. Wait?! Where was he? Did he leave? Did the witch scare him? Did she drive him away like she did everyone else?

I looked at her tombstone. 
"Here lies Marie Ann, 
A loving mother, wife, friend
Missed dearly by all she left behind
May her soul rest in peace"

I laughed. Nobody knows there was the other side of Marie Ann. Marie Ann, loving mother who tied her daughter to the bedpost every single night because she wanted to go out for a quick drink with her guy friends. 
Marie Ann, who made her eat off the floor when she couldn't finish her food, after knocking the plate off the table, screaming.
Marie Ann, who pinched only the insides of her thighs so nobody else could see the blue black marks. 
Marie Ann who would wake her up in the wee hours of the morning after a night of partying, by knocking the floor non stop with the walking cane.
Marie Ann who poked her with a pin on her backside, because she said she wanted to return the favour. 
Marie Ann who blamed her 6 year old daughter for her husband running off with another woman. 
Marie Ann, who blamed her daughter for stealing her happiness.
Marie Ann, who always wished her daughter would just die and leave her alone.  

Marie Ann, a witch in disguise. Until, that fateful night, when she came back from her party and tripped over the broom that was lying on the floor. The broom that she had used to sweep up the food she had knocked off the table, all the while screaming that her daughter should be grateful for the food she had to work so hard to provide, making her daughter lick the gravy, she then poured over the food on the floor. 

As she fell to the floor after hitting her head on the counter, her hand pushed the knife she had left on the counter after threatening to cut off her daughter's tongue if she didn't finish every single bit.
The knife went right through the unconcious woman's stomach. She lay on the floor, bleeding out all her wickedness so she could go to heaven. Her daughter tied to the bed post, was found 2 days later by the landlord who came to check on the complains of the stench and an influx of flies from the apartment. 

![text01.png](https://cdn.steemitimages.com/DQmZSJ8jY8rVQrN3jGZcPrqeJpTHGW68AkyhEipSrqspmaX/text01.png)

I know I used all six. It just happened. 

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