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ACCORDING TO REAGAN WALKER |
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Christina's World |
Created on 11-28-06
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Story Rating G
CHRISTINA’S WORLD
BY: SHAY BROWN
Christina woke up to the bright sun beating down on her. She covered her tired eyes. She tried to remember what had happened the night before, but all she could remember was that her name was Christina. She looked around. A massive field surrounded her, with the exception of a small patch of trees. She leaned back and looked behind her. To her amazement she saw an old farmhouse. Slowly she lifted herself from the grass. Her legs felt as if they weighed a hundred pounds each. Trying to walk, she stumbled, but not quite to the ground. She lifted herself and then slowly worked her way to a walking pace. The sun began to set, but the heat remained constant. It seemed as though no matter how much she walked, the house never got closer. It was dusk and she heard the sound of little feet through the tall grass. Quickly she looked behind her, nothing. Picking up her pace, she heard it again. She began to run, looking back every so often. She ran and ran, exhausted, she collapsed on the porch of the farm house. Her heart felt like it could beat out of her chest. She looked toward the open field and she saw what had been chasing her. A coyote slowly stalked toward her. She scrambled all the way onto the porch. As she reached for the door, it opened. Startled, all she saw was the feet of a woman. Then she heard a loud “crack”. She only assumed it was a gunshot. She slowly looked up to see a somewhat older woman holding a shotgun. “Amy! Amy! Oh thank God! Amy, where have you been? I’ve been worried sick!” Christina, confused, looked at the woman. She didn’t recognize her. “Who are you? And, who is Amy? Where am I?” The woman helped Christina to her feet. “You’re Amy, and I’m your mother. Amy, you have been missing for three days.” Christina pulled away. “NO! I’m Christina, my name’s Christina.” She brought her hand to her head. “I think…” Christina began to sway. “Amy, come inside.” The woman helped her inside and sat her on a sofa. “Amy, you are a very sick girl. It wasn’t until three days ago, you were able to walk.” Christina’s eyes widened. “What!? What are you talking about? I-I’m Christina!” The woman looked away as if she was trying to compose herself. “Sometimes, you are.” The woman softly said. “What do you mean, ‘sometimes I am’?” Christina snapped. “My daughter, Amy, she has a condition. She, well, you are suffering from what’s called ‘schizophrenia’, or multiple personality syndrome. You also have been Kaye, Sarah, and Lynn.” The woman counted on her fingers. “Christina, well, she’s new. But you, you were born Amy, my daughter.” Suddenly Christina stood up, “NO! I’M AMY! I mean…Christina, I’m…” She fell to the floor. “Mom? Why am I on the floor?” Amy’s mother picked her up and put her into her wheelchair, pushed her to her room, then put her into bed. “Goodnight dear.”
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