Myffi
I wouldn't trust me right now
Thu Nov 22, 2018 09:22
82.38.4.236

The other girl was super sweet when she admitted to not knowing what was going on right now. A lot of people maybe could have been put off by the idea of talking to someone who was suffering from some sort of memory lapse, but this stranger, whoever she was, sounded genuinely concerned. She totally forgot that they were going to maybe read some lines, and instead started to wonder if the girl in the bright dress and glasses had injured herself in some way. “No, I don’t feel sick,” she answered the first direct diagnostics question. The logic sounded familiar, that if a person hit their head they could experience memory loss, except, “I don’t think I hit my head.” Not that she could actually remember anything she’d done that day (or days before it, to be completely honest), but the accompanying symptoms were absent. “It doesn’t hurt or anything.” She raised both her hands to apply gentle pressure over her scalp. “I can’t feel any lumps, nothing is sore,” she clarified.

In light of this new evidence, it seemed far more likely that it was a spell of some sort that had stolen her thoughts, but the girl with glasses didn’t know if she should voice this: was the girl with her a witch or a Muggle? She looked at her companion critically, searching for any clue that would convince her one way or the other. They other girl wasn’t holding a wand, but neither was she; she was just eating fish and buttered potatoes, and she was sure that witches and Muggles both did that. She was reasonably sure she was a witch herself, because otherwise how would she even know that witches were a thing? And how would she know not to tell Muggles? That much had to be true (unless she was living some strange sort of fantasy where witches and Muggles were real things and she had just lost her memory, which now actually sounded rather far-fetched and perhaps this was all some grand delusion and actually she was clinically insane? Best not to think about that).

“Look I don’t want to see a nurse, I feel completely fine,” she tried to reassure the other girl. What if the nurse was a Muggle, too? How would she explain she she thought it might be a spell if there was no definite magical authority to… She looked around to moving train room they occupied. There were adults here, and some of them were even wearing robes, but not all of them. This was such a perplexing situation, she was probably doing really well not to panic, even though she didn’t feel remotely panicked at all. It was disorienting to not know her own name, but otherwise she didn’t seem to be in any danger.

Looking back to the girl in the jacket, her gaze fell upon a canvas bag near her. “Oh,” she exclaimed, “I think this - this is mine,” she corrected, perhaps a little too late. There just had to be something in there than would give her some clues about who she was, or where she was, or anything, really. “Maybe my diary is in here, that should help jog my memory,” she made up her excuse to look. She peered inside the bag, seeing a wand - thank Merlin, she knew she was a witch - and some textbooks. Mentally keeping her fingers crossed (but not physically, because that would make her current task so much harder), she tugged forward the cover of a textbook and peered inside to see a name written there: Myfanwy Owen. That was a Welsh name, which made sense, because she could definitely speak Welsh. Although just to be sure, she peered in the other book, too, and the name written there was the same. She sighed in relief, but couldn’t see a diary.

“No diary,” she said to the other girl with a slight frown that said ‘Never mind, eh?’ She added the document next to her to the bag, before she forgot about that, too, and smiled complacently at the other girl. “I feel totally fine, though, I promise, you don’t have to worry. Although if it makes you feel better,” she added, even though she wasn’t entirely sure this was a good plan, considering her current state of not knowing anything, but maybe it would be good to have someone to keep an eye on her, “you can sit here with me for a bit, just to be sure.” She smiled at the girl who’d tried to help her. “What’s your name, anyway? I’m Myfanwy.”

  • I'll trust you on that - Marley, Mon Nov 12 21:45
    To her great disappointment, nothing the other girl said gave her even the tiniest hint about what her non-acting role in their theatre train troupe (that was a fun alliteration) was supposed to be.... more
    • I wouldn't trust me right now - Myffi, Thu Nov 22 09:22
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