By Jackie Wagner
She was carrying on as a woman does in her life, one-step, one moment, one day at a time. Slowly things started to become a jumble. What time is it? What day is it? Who is she?
The thief of her memories and her security has come. Her daily routine has slowly been making its face known. If only she can save it for long enough to help her manage. How can something unseen be insidious in its cruelty upon her mind? Getting out of bed used to be a joy and adventure; now, the thought of waking and moving from something warm and comforting is terrifying. Oh please let this day be a day of memories and knowledge of her direction, step by step, moment by moment.
What used to be taken for granted is hollow in its lack of assured stability. Who is she: wife, mother, sister, daughter, and friend? Where have they all gone? As she stares at the reflection in the mirror she wonders if that person is the thief. Must brush the hair and feel the skin of the person whose reflection seems to not ring of truth.
Slowly she moves the curtain to peer outside; the sunshine looks so alluring. She decides to go outside. Ah, the warmth of the sun feels good on her face as she decides to twirl. Suddenly, she notices someone staring from the street. The thief within her mind stole her knowledge of having to put on sensible clothing and her memory of what happened the last time she enjoyed the warmth. The thief within her mind stole her sensibilities of what others in the street think of her moment in the sun.
Finally, she notices more people staring from the road and something inside her becomes frightened. The thief in her mind did not let her make the connections to make her understand what she once knew. She crouches inside her home. She is crying uncontrollably with tears coming down her face. There is no one to comfort her, no one to tell her who she is or where she is. The thief was waiting for there to be no one to save her from herself. The thief waits until the end when there is nothing left to steal but her mind. Tears, fears, empty of memories, empty of self. The thief in her mind stole what was left of her person.