Keeps Me Up At Night
I have memories that aren’t mine. I described them to my mom one day, down to the house I was in, the view out the windows, what I was wearing, what I was doing. My mom looked at me with absolute terror in her eyes. It turns out the memories belonged to my cousin who drowned in a river before I was born.
I hadn’t seen any pictures of her, the house, or anything. It still keeps me up at night.
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