When I woke up in the morning, I lifted my hands and ran them through my hair.
What a dream I had last night... I had never been so scared. Thankfully, it was only a dream. I sat quietly on my bed for a while. My sleep problems were getting worse; insomnia had become almost like an illness. For the past three years, I had been visiting hospitals for it. They kept giving me sleeping pills, but they never really worked on my body. My diagnosis was simply insomnia.
I needed to sleep, yet I hated the very act of sleeping. I kept having meaningless dreams that left me trapped in their aftermath.
When the door of my room was knocked on softly twice, a smile spread across my face. I knew that knock. In came sweet little Agatha—my grandmother, whose hair was streaked with gray, plump, quite short compared to me, and utterly adorable. She held a glass of milk.
Showing me the milk, she said,
"You're up early again, my beautiful girl. Did you sleep well?"
I replied teasingly,
"Yes, Grandmother Agatha," I said.
She looked at me for a long while, as if she wanted to say something. Then she walked over and said,
"Come on, Mono. Drink your milk. We have things to do. Tomorrow is a big day."
Her words startled me. What day was it today? I grabbed my phone: October 30th.
"Oh, damn... Tomorrow's Halloween," I muttered. I had forgotten. Time was slipping away so fast.
Agatha looked deep into my eyes.
"Tomorrow we'll celebrate both. This time, you won't escape," she said.
I knew exactly what she meant. I tried not to show the tight knot of anxiety inside me. Tomorrow was also my birthday. Who was born on Halloween? I never liked celebrating my birthday.
I was born on October 31, 2006—at least, that's what my ID says. My name is Mono; that's what people call me. My full name is Manolya. Agatha had raised me.
When I was very young, I had been left at an orphanage. When Agatha first saw me, she loved me so much that she gradually started paying more attention to me than the other children. By the time I was five, she had adopted me. She had never had children of her own, but she had worked at an orphanage and cared for kids. She was always the one who reminded me what it felt like to be genuinely loved. That's why my surname is Fox.
Agatha had immigrated from the Balkans to England.
I looked at her and asked,
"Can we skip the celebration?"
She looked carefully into my eyes.
"It's a day you should celebrate once a year. But you always run away, my sweet girl," she said.
I thought to myself, I don't understand... Why do we celebrate?
For some reason, I wanted to ask a question I had been holding in for a long time, but I didn't know how to start. Did she know the person who brought me to the orphanage? Was it a man or a woman? Did she know their name? I was so curious, but also afraid of the answer.
Taking a deep breath, I looked her in the eyes. She realized I wanted to ask something, turned toward me, and put her hand on my arm:
"Go ahead. Ask," she said, as if she could read my mind.
"I've wanted to ask you this for a long time, but I don't know how to say it," I said.
She held my hand.
"Is it such a hard question?"
A small smile appeared on my face.
"I've never asked anyone this out loud before," I said.
She looked at me as if she understood.
"Do you remember the person who brought me to the orphanage?" I asked.
Suddenly, she pulled her hand away and looked at me for a long time. I don't know how many minutes passed, but her face held an expression that looked like worry.
"I was younger then... at least forty-five," she began. "When they brought you... you were so beautiful, I couldn't take my eyes off you. I don't remember exactly, but they had you wrapped in a blanket."
She continued:
"It was raining when the man came. Around eleven or twelve at night, someone knocked quickly on the door. I was scared. I opened it... and he held a baby wrapped in a blanket. He didn't say a word. He just showed you to me and handed you over. I couldn't see his face, but I'm sure it was a man. I could tell by his body."
She noticed me scratching my arm and held my hand.
"Don't do that. Don't hurt yourself, my dear," she said.
I looked up at her.
"So he gave me to you like trash... is that it?"
"No, don't think like that," she said quickly.
"Then tell me... Was he sad when he left me?"
She looked at me and said,
"That's enough talking about these things, Miss Mono. Come on now, who's going to carve the pumpkins?" She changed the subject.
I knew she was avoiding the question. I took a deep breath and told myself, Yes, these questions don't matter. You're Agatha Fox's daughter.
After taking a shower and getting ready, I went downstairs. Agatha was preparing breakfast, and I carried the pumpkins one by one from the garage to the front door. I picked up a small carving knife and began carving a smiling face into each.
While working at the door, I noticed a movement in the trees across the street. Someone—or something—was there, moving, but I couldn't make out a face or body. I tried to ignore it and continued carving.
After a while, I felt like someone was watching me. I looked up. Across the street, a middle-aged man dressed entirely in black was staring at me. His eyes... they seemed to pierce through me.
Just then, a school minibus honked at the start of the road. I turned my head. The vehicle stopped at our neighbor's house, and Ben and Sem got off. The bus blocked my view across the street. When it moved, I saw the street was empty.
Ben touched my shoulder, making me jump.
"Where are you looking, beauty?" he asked.
"Nothing, little one," I said.
He frowned. "I'm not a child. I'm definitely not a little one," he said.
I couldn't help laughing. Ben and Sem were the little twins of our neighbor, Mrs. Petunya. Sem was extremely smart and spoke far beyond his age. I, on the other hand, didn't study and ogled every girl I saw. For a long time, my biggest fan had been nine-year-old Ben... funny, but true.
Sem looked at me.
"You're carving the pumpkins wrong. I really can't believe you're nineteen," he said.
Being teased by a nine-year-old... if this is life, I'm doomed.
"Sem, I heard you got a 99 in math. I can't believe it," I said.
His face turned slightly red.
"I was sick that day. Otherwise, I would have gotten 100 like always. You wouldn't understand what that means," he replied.
We locked eyes and started a little wink battle until Ben got bored.
"Seriously? You're crazy," he said and went inside.
Sem said, "I beat you. You can't compete with me," and I lost my temper.
"Yesterday's crap!" I shouted after him. He glanced back and went inside.
This kid drives me insane. Only nine, and his ego is Everest-sized.
I picked up a pumpkin and opened the door. Just as I was about to enter, a voice whispered into my ear:
"Wait. They're coming for you."
I froze in place. I stood still for a moment.
Had I finally gone insane, or was I becoming schizophrenic—though did anyone in my family even have that illness? I'd never known them anyway.
I took a deep breath and stepped inside.