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An old photo is a chance to catch a glimpse of the past, an excuse to relive days long dead and gone. The sweet bliss of nieve nostalgia is a drug nobody can resist because time heals all wounds, right? Right? You can try to run but your memories are faster, they will always catch up and swallow you whole when you expect it the least.
Our story begins in the attic of an old, empty townhouse. A home once filled with warmth and laughter now dreadfully cold and silent. It is here we meet Alberta Haynes. Alberta is an interesting woman, a singer. Ever since she was a tiny little girl she had wanted nothing more than to sell out shows and sing for packed crowds. But things don't often turn out how you fantasise they will.
It's difficult to say what is holding Alberta back, discrimination in a biased industry or simply a devastating spell of unfortunate luck? Either way, she is not where she wants to be, and she is starting to doubt she will ever get there.
Now however, in this very moment, all of that leaves her mind. She is searching the attic of her father's home. Her late father's home. He passed peacefully, yet suddenly, in his sleep only a week prior. He wasn't sick, or even that old, sometimes people just die. People we love die and we're left to pick up the pieces.
More accurately, Alberta is left to pick up the pieces. Left to plan the funeral. Left to sort out the legalities. And Left to sift through forgotten junk in a dark and dusty attic. Her mother had died years ago and she hadn't seen or spoken with her sister since she had walked in on her in quite the incriminating position with her boyfriend at the time. So it was down to Alberta, as it so often was.
She was rummaging through an old chest located in a far corner when she found it. The ‘it’ in question being a photograph, an old yellowing polaroid with teared edges. Despite its obvious age Alberta would recognise the people in it anywhere, anytime, in any life.
The picture had been taken in the backyard of her childhood home. It showed herself and seven other children, all looking around the age of ten. Little Alberta and a tanned boy with long black hair are sitting on a large moss covered rock. On one side a tall boy with sparse braids in his hair is leaning almost his entire weight on a shorter boy with glasses. On the other side a pale girl with red hair is standing between a boy with a ponytail and a girl with long hair and round glasses. And behind them all a boy wearing shorts can be seen making a ‘T’ gesture with his hands.
Old forgotten memories come flooding back. A school playground, friendship bracelets, sleepovers, screaming, birthday parties, wedding dresses, play dates, smashed car doors- No. Alberta shakes her head, trying, unsuccessfully, to dislodge the unwanted images. Her eyes scan the faces of the children in the photo. They had all been her friends, once. A pit opens in Alberta's stomach and her mouth feels unusually dry, the picture shakes in her trembling hands and it takes far too long for her to realise that a tear is rolling down her cheek.
Her gaze freezes on the little red haired girl. Her blue eyes contrast with her pale, freckle clad skin. A single ringlet curl frames her face, having escaped the confines of her updo. Alberta looks at the little girl, frozen in time, and wonders. The photo had been taken nearly twenty years ago and in that time many things have happened and so much has changed.
Alberta returns the picture to the chest, unable to stand looking at it any longer. Something inside her feels as if it has been hollowed out. She decides that she has done enough for the day and retreats from the attic. She tries to go about her day as she usually would, she makes dinner (well, orders delivery, but nobody has to know), watches an episode of some old sitcom or another, and lays down to sleep.
She's staying in her father's home while she sorts things out. The only bed in the house is the one he had died in, so she takes the couch. She stares up at the dark ceiling, a thin blanket her only protection from the chill, and tries to quiet her thoughts long enough to let the sweet release of sleep take her. Not an easy task, to put it lightly. Her mind races and swirls, she cannot think of anything but that God forsaken polaroid. It is as if something has awoken, a door opened, unable to ever be closed again.
The past is gone, never to return, that much we know. So if that be true, why does it haunt us so? Memories, mistakes, words that cannot be taken back no matter how much we wish they could.
—
Fingers intertwine, cheeks flush, faces only inches apart. Stolen moments hidden away in shadows and dark corners. Hearts racing, whether it be from the passion or the fear of getting caught nobody can say. It is the most alive either of them had ever felt. But that's all they are, single moments behind closed doors.
“Are you ashamed of me or something?” Alberta spits, as if her words containe the deadly venom of a snake.
Things have changed over the years, as they so often do.
“Of course not!” The pale redhead hisses back. “You know why we can't go together. It's just too much of a risk.”
Yet some things, of course, never change.
“It's just prom! We can tell people we're going as friends, nobody will question it.”
Once two girls played games together on the school ground and traded handmade bracelets at sleepovers.
“You know what my father would do if he found out about us.”
Over time play dates and birthday parties evolved into something more, something intimate.
“Aren't you tired of hiding away?” Strong hands encase slender ones, firm yet ever so tender.
“You say that like we have a choice, Alberta.” Pale eyes meet dark ones, a knowing look is shared.
“Of course we have a choice. We can go off together, run away. Say the word and I am yours.” A sweet embrace. “Now and forever.”
Now and forever. If only it was that easy.
She is barely a day older than eighteen when her father approaches her, an ornate white gown in hand and a telling glint in his eyes. She knows who he has in mind before he ever speaks the words. Elias’ family has always been prominent in the community. A wedding would be good for business.
“I can't do it.” Her pale eyes are distant, somewhere far away.
“You say that like you have a choice, Henrietta.” Stern eyes meet pleading ones, a knowing look is shared.
Of course she has a choice. She just needs to say the word.
They leave when the world is silent and the stars are shining. It's strange, someone once so frightened of losing everything she's ever known now rejoicing in the feeling of abandoning her life entirely. With her love by her side she feels invincible.
If only their happy ending could last.
It isn’t a serious crash, the airbags haven't even deployed, yet an ambulance has been called anyway. Hetty is adamant that she's just fine, thank you very much. It's only a little blood and she didn't even hit her head that hard. In the end they do end up at the hospital despite her protests.
“We're not far enough away.” She frets. “He'll find us.”
“It's alright.”
“It's not.”
Gentle fingers caress soft, freckle clad skin, soothing with every lingering touch.
“Don't you worry.” Alberta purrs. “You're mine, now and forever. I won't let him have you back.” Lips collide and bodies melt into each other. Bliss, if even just for a moment.
That's when the police arrive. Apparently Alberta is a deranged madwoman who has kidnapped the mentally unwell daughter of a wealthy man who just so happens to have friends in the local police department, not that that has anything to do with it. The charges don't stick, of course they don't, but that horrible man is still able to get a restraining order on Hetty's behalf.
Alberta tries to fight it, she really does. Only so much can be done. Next thing she knows it's been over a decade and she's getting a call telling her that her father has passed.
—
Alberta can't sleep.
Over the years her mind has often wandered to the past, to all the ‘what if's of it all, but seeing that photo is bringing it all back like nothing else. They had been so young and stupid back then. Alberta has been in other relationships since but nobody could ever compare. Her body and soul yearns for her other half.
She realises now just how deeply she had been repressing these feelings, she had to in order to live anything close to a normal life, but now the dam has broken and she is being swept away by the flood. She subconsciously wraps her arms around herself. The same way Hetty had held her when they were together.
Together. That's all she had wanted, to be together with the woman she loved. Still loves, with her entire being, more than anything or anyone. Is that really so much to ask? Alberta wants to scream. She wants to cry and shout and never stop.
It would have been easier if she'd never seen that damm photo, wouldn't it? Maybe. She's been holding this in for so long. Perhaps letting it out isn't so bad. It still feels bad though. It's painful. She wants him to feel this pain. He deserves it more than she does, he took her beloved Hetty from her.
She's thought about calling. Many times, actually. She always decided against it. It would just do more harm than good, she rationalises. Or maybe she's just scared. Scared she wouldn't be able to get through, scared she would cause Hetty more hurt, scared Hetty wouldn't even want to hear her voice. Even the thought makes her feel ill.
Alberta stares at her phone. It's been so long. Too long, right? Maybe. Maybe not. There's only one way to know. She still has the Woodstone landline number memorised from when she and Hetty would sneak around and talk into the wee hours of the morning. She dials. It rings. It rings. It rings.
“Hello?” Oh that voice has never sounded so sweet.
“Hey.” Her own is small, timid, if that is even possible.
A soft gasp can be heard. Neither woman hangs up. Maybe there's still a chance.