Lenore had no idea where she was.

Or why she appeared to be alive and in perfect health. 

She remembered the last moments before her eyes shut with striking clarity. But what happened after that, and how she arrived here – her mind was blank.

A long hallway stretched out before her, the walls were painted the same beige tone as the carpet. There weren't any pictures or paintings hanging on display. Honestly, there wasn't anything to say this space was lived in. And nothing from the surroundings sparked recognition but for some reason Lenore couldn't ignore the inkling of familiarity – that perhaps she may have been here before, or some place like this.

"Hello?" she called out, glancing back over her shoulder. "Is anyone here?"

When no one replied, Lenore began making her way forward down the endless hallway. All there was to do was explore and hope she stumbled on a person or the exit. She stopped and tried a couple of the doors as she passed, but all of them appeared to be locked, with no feasible way to enter.

 The hallway had a slight curve to it, which at the beginning kept Lenore in suspense at what might be around the bend. But as time continued to pass without her reaching an end or finding another hallway, the more she began to suspect that she might be walking in a circle.

She picked up the pace of her steps, until she was running down the hallway – anxiety taking complete control of her mind and body. There had to be a way to escape this place. Frantically, Lenore turned and rushed back to the door she'd only passed, grabbed the handle and twisted it, jiggled it, pulled at it – lifted her leg and used her foot as an anchor, just in case it needed more force.

Nothing happened – the wood didn't even groan like it felt any of the effort she was putting forth. With a frustrated cry, Lenore pushed back and threw up her hands. She turned on her heels, eyes wide as she scanned the world before her.

"Holy shit!" Lenore gasped, hand flying to her heart.

The sight of the young woman had shocked her, not because she had suddenly appeared in what she thought was an empty house, but because of the physical similarities between them. Honestly, she thought she was looking at a mirror image of herself at first glance.

Upon closer inspection, she noted the differences in their faces. The woman had a permanent dimple in her left cheek, and a smattering of freckles rising up her nose to the center of forehead, that drifted outward and created a crown above her brow. They did share the same narrow, dark eyes and long, thick wavy hair. Even the build of their bodies was basically a copy and paste – slender and short.

This woman was without a doubt a Gillard. That made her suspicious but Lenore confidently stepped toward her. What was the worst that they could do to her at this point?

"Excuse me? Do you know where we are?"

The woman didn't react to Lenore. In fact, she turned and started walking away.

"Hey!" She rushed after her, reaching out to grab hold of her arm only to watch her hand pass right through. The blood in her veins turned to ice. Lenore attempted once more to grab the woman and once again failed.

She froze, but her mind ran wild.

What the hell was this?

Had she died after all?

Was this hell?

A door nearby opened suddenly and a small child, no older than three, ran out to greet the woman. "Mama!"

"Shadow!" She scooped the child up and held her close. "I missed you."

The girl wrapped her small arms around the woman's neck, squeezing tight. The ache in Lenore's chest grew at their shared affection.

"Did you behave yourself?"

"Mhmm." The tiny head bobbed, enthusiastically.

Lenore's heart shattered as she got a better look at the child. The shock stole the breath of her lungs. It was her face. That meant this woman wasn't simply a relative. It was her mother. This must have been some memory that was locked away in the crevices of her subconscious.

Her mother was so close and yet nothing more than a memory; a dream. This was a new kind of torture. Lenore watched as her younger self fiddled with a lock of her mother's hair, twisting it around a tiny, chubby finger. She could almost recall the texture – almost smell the shampoo her mother used. A lilac scent teased the air around her.

All those years Lenore spent yearning for this woman who was buried in the recesses of her mind hit her all at once. She covered her mouth, muffling the explosive sob that rattled her body. Her mother had never been more real to her than in this moment.

"How do you feel about going somewhere together? Just the two of us?"

She tilted her head before dropping it down onto her mother's shoulder. "Papa too?"

Lenore watched a shadow fall over her mother's face. "Papa is already waiting for us. But this is a secret. We can't tell anyone else."

Her mother mimed zipping her lips, locking them tight, and throwing away the key – and child Lenore mimicked the action, giggling without knowing the ominous nuance implied by her mother's words.

As if someone had spilled water across a painting, the colors of her memory began to smear and run together before completely fading into darkness. Suddenly, it was though the ground was ripped from beneath her and she was plummeting through empty space. 

Down.

Down.

Down she fell.

Lenore's feet met the ground with a jarring impact. It took all of her energy to keep herself standing upright. The world was no longer dark. She stood in a small bedroom – a crib set in the far corner, toddler toys scattered across the floor. Lenore nearly stumbled over colored blocks that were stacked on each other. 

There was little time for her to adjust to her new surroundings before the door to the small room opened. Her mother charged in with a crying Lenore in her arms. The expression of terror fixed on her mother's face as she attempted to soothe her younger self only ushered in fresh trauma. She was helpless to do anything but watch – forced to relive the pain of the past.

Beyond the small bedroom the sound of angry voices and fighting drown out Lenore's bellowing screams. Her mother locked the door, though it seemed it would be a small deterrent to whatever or whoever was attacking them. With the utmost grace and serenity, she made her way across the room to the crib. Silent tears streamed down her flushed face, a haunting smile pulling at the corners of her pink lips.

Her mother began to hum a familiar lullaby, her voice trembled but didn't break. She gently traced her face as if she was trying to capture the image a final time.

"Shh, don't cry. Don't cry," she said in a hushed voice before setting the crying child down in the crib. "I'm here. I'll be right here. Mama loves you." 

There were angry thuds against the door, someone was yelling on the other side. Lenore reached for her mother, yearning to hold her and shield her from what she feared was coming. Her knees went weak as her hands passed through the image.

She couldn't watch her mother die. A scream of desperation rose from the depths of Lenore. "Gods, no. Please! No!"

The bedroom door burst open and a familiar face marred with hatred appeared. Her uncle, blood stained knife gripped tight in his hand. "You thought you could run away?"

"You?!" The truth settled over Lenore like a thick blanket. He had taken everything from her, raised her as his own, and sacrificed her. It was beyond sick. There weren't words to express what she felt beyond blinding rage and despair. And it was those feelings that took control of her rationality – her memories becoming too real. Lenore charged him with every intention of making him pay for all he had done.

"You sick fuck! I'll kill you!" She ran through the ghost of him, only to fall through the wall behind him – and down.

Down.

Down.

Down she fell again.

A world shattering scream her companion this time.  

When her feet hit solid ground, Lenore didn't care to remain standing. Instead, she dropped to her knees and pressed her forehead into the earth. She sobbed and keened – all of the hurt and grief spilled out as though someone had cut her open. 

It was clear to her now, that she was not awake – but this place wasn't a dreamscape. A dream would be happier. These had to be memories that she'd buried in her subconscious. Things she wanted to forget, despite the longing she'd experienced for her parents. Perhaps, Lenore was remembering these forgotten things because she was dead and this was that moment people often referred to. 

Gods, she didn't know anything anymore and she didn't care. She just wanted to be free from this torment. Let her die already, if she was going to die. She didn't want to see anymore of this bullshit. Remembering hurts too much.

Lenore dug her fingers into her scalp, pulling at her hair from the roots. There was nothing salvageable about her. She was nothing more than a black hole, waiting to consume anything that got pulled into her gravity. Maybe she had always been this way – from birth to death; nothing but a black stain.

Suddenly, Lenore sensed she was no longer alone. Someone or something was watching her – a strange warmth traced up her spine, settling at the base of her skull. On the verge of hyperventilating, she relaxed her hands and let them fall to the ground. It was difficult to see through her waterlogged eyes but Lenore did her best, turning her head and glancing back over her shoulder.

It was her handsome stranger. He looked just as she remembered him, only his ruby eyes were the color of molasses. Somehow, the warmth of his gaze calmed the frenzy of emotions rushing through her.

"I've been looking for you," he said, reaching out his hand.

Lenore blinked, her breath steadying. All of her grief slithered back into her chest and settled there. She found herself becoming a person once more. All the while, he waited patiently, not saying a word – hand held out for her to take.

She was afraid. What if this only took her deeper into her nightmarish memories?

"Are you real?" she asked. Of all the things her mind could imagine at this moment – did it make sense that she would think of him? A person she had known for more than a few heartbeats.

He only smiled in return. It appeared as though she was going to have to take the risk if she wanted to put an end to all of this. And that was something she desired more than anything at the moment.

She sucked in a stuttered breath and did her best to fix him with an intimidating glare, knowing damn well how much of a broken mess she was at the moment.

"You better not fuck with me," she said before grabbing hold of his hand. Then she was rushing upward – body and soul surging toward heaven.

Lenore came back into the living world gasping as though she'd just surfaced from the bottom of the ocean.