Dorothy Rose - Apt. 604

Since moving into the Foxberry, Dorothy tried as best she could to focus on each day at a time. It was a way of coping and moving on from the traumatic events that had happened in New York and with her father. Her photography and hours spent at school were a way of zoning her mind in on the present, which seemed to help her get past her hardships. However, the reoccurring discussions regarding the death of Mr. Evans haunted her mind, disrupting her practice of taking each day at a time. When Dorothy first arrived in the town, she was going through constant mental breakdowns and got addicted to pills. They were what caused some memory loss and actions that she otherwise would not take. As the months have passed, she has finally accepted that she was there when Mr. Evans was killed. She’s still not sure if she had anything to do with it, or why she was there, but she was. And now that the memories have become more vivid, it is taking everything in her power to not focus on that ho...

Over the next several weeks, Dorothy had a recurring feeling like she couldn’t remember pieces of her life. She knew her memories would come back to her, they always do, but that didn’t stop the sense that these memories were inevitably bad for her and for those around her. As she was getting ready for school one day, she realized she could not find her most precious belonging: her camera. She always placed it next to her school bag the night before so that she’d be able to just grab it and go. Today, it wasn’t there and she had no idea where it could be. “Mom, have you seen my camera?!” She frantically yelled to her mom who had fallen asleep in the living room the night before. Her mom rustled awake, looking dazed and confused as she laid there on the couch. “What, Dorothy?” “I can’t find my camera, Mom. Did you put it somewhere?” Her mom shook her head ‘no,’ and proceeded to fall back into a deep sleep. Dorothy decided she’d have to go the day without it, and left the ...