Nora Connolly

Thirteen

Nora Connolly

She was in a forest.

More specifically, the forest where the attack on her parents had happened. And the campsite…the bright, orange tent that her dad had gotten. The fire that had long since burned out. The graham crackers, chocolate, and marshmallows her parents had gotten for s’mores were on the table, unopened.

“What the hell?” Nora muttered.

There was no way that she could be back at the campsite. She knew that. It had been years since that day had happened. But now, there was something off about it. This wasn’t a memory. In memories, you couldn’t feel things. You might remember the sensation of the pain, but you didn’t feel the wind against your face as you remembered because the wind wasn’t there.

“Noraaaaa….” Someone was calling her name. It was a soft, female voice. “Noraaa….”

She turned around, searching for the stranger that was calling her. There was something familiar about the voice, but she couldn’t pin point exactly where it was coming from. “He