Lyanna's Memories

Dissilio 6th, 9400

My mom keeps telling me: Memories are important.

I have never really thought so. My memory is nearly perfect. I may not remember the day that I was born, but I remember anything important. Like her birthday. Or my father's. Or my own. I remember to bathe everyday. I remember to stay inside as much as possible. I remember to do my studies and get good grades and every single gift I have ever gotten. My mother still insists that I write down everything. She wants me to recall emotions, mostly. She doesn't have to say this, but I know that is what she wants. I guess I have gone a little numb to life lately. Perhaps she is worried?

This day has been uneventful. I woke, I bathed, I spent at least thirty minutes brushing my hair. I will never understand why she doesn't let me cut it a little shorter. We had breakfast. I attempted to return to school, but was sent home, per usual, due to no fault of my own. I understand their fear of me, I suppose. It's not contagious. One would think that the general populace would understand that after so many of us. I can no longer waste negative energy on the jade. I will just study, and when the time is right, and my education has finished, move to a place more accepting. I have been reading up on Timberholde. I would just be another civilian there.

It is three months away, but I was already forced to promise my mother I would attend the festival. It is her and father's anniversary, after all. I am not sure what to present them as a gift. Shopping alone is already difficult enough, with being turned away from more than half of them already. It was always easier to wander the city with my parents...but I am too old for that now. Father says I need to be more independent, but I think mother is right. People look at me strangely when they are not around. Fear does funny things to people.