Agnes POV

Something was happening to me that I could not explain. It was like the painting; I had no memory of painting; had never learnt to paint and yet it all felt so familiar, it came so easy. When I held the brush something magical seemed to happen to me. It was this overpowering feeling that I was something much more than I knew myself to be. It was as though a part of me that I had kept repressed had suddenly come to life. Sometimes I found myself struggling to remember something or my ...