haunted

/remember./

the word lingers like a bell in my chest, reverberations thrumming through me, beating into me your insistence that, above all else, I will remember where I come from.

/but, why?/

i want to ask. the whine rises in my throat, my resistance to anything suggested by /you/... but no.

I swallow the question. It is not for the wind. Instead my answer sinks back into me and I choke down the bitter thought -

/How could I ever forget?/