Avery awoke early, the morning sun filtering in through the blinds. She blinked a few times, trying to get her bearings, her mind still racing with all of the new information she'd been given last night. Old information. Whatever.
She had spent the time before she went to sleep going through the things that had been posted back from Italy. She went over to the drawer and pulled out a pair of running shorts, her crop top and a pair of socks, and dressed quickly, before putting her sneakers on. She located her iPod in her backpack, and put it in, clicking through and not recognising anything on there. She selected the playlist labelled "Running" and put the headphones in, then quietly snuck through the house, leaving the backdoor unlocked and going through the fence so as to not wake anyone up.
Her feet hit the pavement, the slap against the gravel almost unusually loud in the quiet of the early morning, but the noise was soon replaced with the music playing in her ears. She breathed deeply through her nose, the fresh air helping to clear her mind. She wondered absently if she did this a lot, running... it felt natural to her, relaxing.
She stayed on a fairly easy path, in case she managed to get herself lost, she could easily just turn around and not have to remember different twists and turns, and after about forty minutes, she reluctantly turned herself around and headed back in the direction of Taylor's house.
She could see that everyone wanted her to remember them and be normal again, she wanted to remember everything, but she couldn't. She could almost... but then they were gone again. Like snippets of her life, seen as though she were underwater. Nothing was clear, nothing made sense, and she just wanted to cry the whole time.
She reached the front of Taylor's house and only then did she stop running, resting her hands on her knees, bending over, puffing but breathing deeply through her nose. She closed her eyes, fighting back tears, not understand why she felt the way she felt, and being so frustrated at not knowing who she was, or what had happened to her.
She sniffed, wiping her eyes, then head around the back, sneaking into the house again and heading for the bathroom. She took a cool shower and then went back into the room they'd given her, dressing in a pair of shorts and a tank top. She lay back down on the bed, looking at her sketchpads on the dresser, and her guitar case in the corner of the room.
And while she was still able to have privacy, she shed a few more tears, for a life she didn't know.