Indefinite Doubt (Solo)

"Any truth is better than indefinite doubt." (The Memoirs of Sherlock Holmes)

11 Years Ago

"I don't dream anymore" Quietly spoke a pale-haired girl as she stared out the window. The night was dark and inky thick, and the city's glow counteracted it with a light haze. There was the shuffle of footsteps behind her, but Evelyn didn't turn. She just kept staring ahead. "I can't forget. It's like I close my eyes, and I'm back in a memory. I dreamed I was in school, and I could still see every number on the locker dial."

Jensen was quiet behind her, and the young girl bit her lip before continuing. "It feels like I'm always in a noisy room. The echoes, and now these memories just keep playing back to me. I don't want to sleep anymore. i don't want to remember." She turned suddenly and faced the figure behind her, a lost look on her face. His expression was gentle, but it was clear he lacked the advice he felt she needed. Moving slowly, he took a seat next to her, and gave a soft sigh.

"I wish I could say I understand what's happening. But your abilities are still growing, and with time you will learn to adapt and grow with them. I know it's hard right now, but someday I hope it will get better."

Evelyn looked away, and shook her head sadly. "But what do I do now? I'm afraid of what I'll see..."

There was silence for a moment, and then the figure of her bodyguard got up slowly and moved to a desk in the corner of the room. Returning, he set a small sketchbook and a pencil in her lap, and she looked at it in confusion. "Pick a memory. Something good from your day. Something you saw: a pretty flower, a tree; something you enjoy remembering. Draw that, and set it on your bedside table. Then, if you have a dream of something that frightens you, that will be the first thing you can see when you wake up. And you can find that memory in your mind to replace the bad ones."

He said it quietly, and then left without speaking more, but the action touched the young girl as she looked down at the sketchpad. Slowly, she flipped it open, and picked up her pencil, focusing on her favorite memory. Gradually, she sketched a flower, as beautiful as a photo, the details still crisp in her mind and easy to transfer to paper. Suddenly, her memory didn't seem like such a frightening thing. It made her feel closer to her art, and took away some of her fear. As she crawled into bed that night, she set the sketchbook by her pillow. The memories came and went, but that flower stayed on the surface when she woke up.

Weeks came and left, and each night she would sketch another picture. The art from the night before was torn out, and before bed she'd move and pin it on the wall. The artwork soon stretched from floor to ceiling, across the studio, the bedroom and beyond. The overlapping images were as chaotic as her mind. But these were the good memories: the ones she held onto.

Present Day

A young woman returned to her apartment in the early morning. After the eventful day before Evelyn was exhausted and glad to be home. Jensen was beside himself in irritation about the monsters in the park, but she simply smiled to herself. Tucked under her arm were three drawings, and she moved to the wall, picking a spot. The dog, the ice mutant, and the mirror-walker took their place in her wall of memories. Little black and white sketches on scratch paper that seemed misplaced amongst the heavy sketch paper she typically used, but that was how they should be. It was a new stage in her life, and she was learning to grow beyond this room, these belongings, and this comfort. She wasn't quite ready to move on, and there were still things she feared that never went away.

But 11 years before, she was given a sketchbook to deal with painful memories. Now she could use a sketchbook just like it to document the pleasant ones.