Abigail is no stranger to forgetfulness.
At least, not from what fae can remember. Which is part of what troubles her.

She can feel faint senses of forgetting things historically being the status quo. But she, of course, cannot confirm that, on account of the current situation she’s in.

Internally, she is fine. She’s floating on a raft, suspended in a black sea of ink, below a sky the shade of parchment paper, a crescent moon and unfilled stars drawn on, as if with chalk.

There’s half a dozen books in a stack in the centre, all coated in ink, rendered unreadable. As far as fae know those are all that survived, despite their lack of current usefulness.

In front of her, where she kneels, are two contrastingly intact ones. One already filled up. One laying open, beside an inkwell, its pages only partially filled. A quill sits lengthways over the spread.

One complete book. One complete memory. That is all fae have.

That can’t be it. There has to be something else, anything else.

They rack their brain to remember even something minor. The colour of their room’s walls, the bedsheets they had, whatever they were doing the day before, maybe a pet’s name, maybe a pet at all, maybe remember how the trees around their house felt to walk under, how small they made them feel, anything, something, but the moment that something comes up, they try to grasp it and it just keeps falling away, getting away, ducking just back down out of view, she just needs to grab ahold of it, fae just need to-

She collapses above the open book in a coughing fit. Black splotches of ink splatter over its pages.

“Alright, this is the bathroom, before you do anything I’ll go get you a towel and some spare clothes, you’ll be fine with something baggy right? I don’t really do tight clothes and I’m probably a size above you.”

Abigail gives Katherine a small nod, and fae step past her through the door.

Katherine glides away, “I’ll be back in a minute.”

…

The bathroom isn’t really something that needs explaining. It’s got everything you’d expect.

Shower and bath along one wall, sink, mirror, and toilet along the other, a towel rack and some shelves in-between.

Fae don’t exactly know how to pass the wait. There’s not exactly anywhere to sit down, and there’s even less to really look at. Abigail already feels guilty for somebody having to deal with everything that’s already happened today, the last thing that she wants to do is to rummage through the belongings of the woman offering her a place to stay.

…

Being alone with her thoughts was never something she liked.

…

Katherine appears around the corner again.

“I found some clothes that aren’t like. Too much. Should do for tonight. We can find you something to go out in tomorrow and I’ll take you shopping to get stuff so you’re not just limited to my clothes. Also got you a towel.”

Abigail simply nods.

The moment hangs a little, before Katherine speaks up again.
“Well, if you need anything just yell out, I’ll go get started on something vaguely dinner-shaped.”
She places the towel and clothes onto the basin and walks back out of the room.

…

Abigail sighs.
Might as well start.

A long minute passes.
A pile of used clothes, stained with tears, sit on the edge of the bathtub.

The shower door opens, fae step inside.

It closes.

The tap starts to run.

…

It starts cold, but slowly warms up. It runs hot.

…

…

Fae should start.

She glances towards the shelf hanging off of the top of the glass.
Body wash, shampoo, conditioner, a few other products.

Fae need to wash their hair. She also needs to shave.

…

…

She caught herself thinking again.

She looks back at the shelf. She’ll wash her hair tomorrow. It’s… too much today. Too much has happened today.

She dispenses a bit of the soap onto a scrub.

…

…

…

It’s done.

…

…

…

…

…

…

She’s-

No, she’s done. She got caught up again.

…

… She should get out. The water feels suffocating.

…

The tap shuts off. She steps out onto the mat on the floor, and grabs the towel from atop the pile of clothes Katherine brought in.

Katherine… why was she so quick to take faer in? She has little to no reason to trust faer. Fae barely even remembered faer own name. Fae’re probably a burden.

…

No. It’s fine. This won’t last forever. A few days, hopefully. Then Annabelle will remember everything. She’ll remember where she lived, remember her parent’s number, something. She’ll remember. And then she can go home, and not have to bother Katherine again.

She can…

…

She fights the urge to hit herself in frustration. Stop thinking. Get dry. Put on the clothes. Idiot.

She wraps the towel around herself.