Days have been hard; change isn't good, and the strange feeling of uncertainty and fear creep into my brain when I sit and think about the fateful June night. I live in Bar Harbor, Maine. A small town where everyone knows everyone and everyone's business. Including mine. As my alarm goes off I jump out of the strange dream about my past and fumble with the clock. Getting up I'm groggy and completely delusional, but I put on short and my running shoes. I sneak past my parents room like I've been doing since I was twelve and head out the door. It's still early enough for the street lamps to be on and I can feel the cool air sink into my skin. We live on a cliff that overlooks the harbor, where ships come and go with the lighthouse that is just over two miles away. The dirt path leads directly to it; with the gulls overhead keeping me company I sprint the rest of the way and rest on the door until I catch my breath. I sit on the cliff until the sun comes up and head back down before my phone starts going off. I can hear my dad shuffling around news paper when I jog inside.

Writing frightens me.

Memories are the images that can bring feelings back into your heart and into your soul. It can feel like you're in an ocean and each memory is a wave that breaks over you. Some days you're treading water, others you're in the midst of a tsunami. They make you who you are, lose them and what's left? You are able to become either who you were or come to the realization that that you can completely turn into something different. I wish I had a choice, I didn't though...

My name is Phaedra and I had the perfect life.