Ding-Dong. The small store bell greets Anna as she swings the door open a little too fast, and flinches as a crash reverberates around the store.
“Don’t swing that door so hard, Anna,” The store owner shouts out across the room, “There is a wall there after all.”
“Sorry Mr. Richards,” Anna shuts the door; relieved the glass hadn’t broken, she slowly picks up her pile of undeveloped pictures. Still in slight shock over her recent encounter, Anna puts her mind into her work - hoping to forget. She scoots around the scattered boxes, ducks to avoid hitting her head on the low door frame, and starts down the stairs to the basement darkroom.
“Alright, what do we have here?” Anna sorts through the brown paper bags, each with several rolls of film and a slip of paper dictating directions. “Rose Phillips, black and white, standard size, and red eye reduction.”
The complicated part of this job is that there are no restrictions to ordering. Unlike the corporate stores, which only sells a select style of camera and had one hour photo developing – with limited choices-, Mr. Richard’s Photos has a laisse-faire ordering policy. The price is a little more, and it takes longer to develop the pictures, but the quality is unrivaled.
“Great, here’s a gem.” Anna groans at her next order. “Adam Gordon, picture three: twelve 4 by 6, picture 14: 15 by 20, standard size for remaining pictures, pictures 1-10 in color, pictures 11-20 in black and white, red eye reduction, color enhancement, crop picture 25 by two inches on the right, invert color on number 11, and throw out number 2.”
She stares at the ridiculously complicated order, and throws it in the bottom of the box.
“I’ll deal with that one later. Ah, here’s a normal one. Otto Williams, all color, standard size. Perfect.”
Anna removes the film and begins working. Her hands move out of memory, leaving her mind to wander.
Her ex-boyfriend, Darren, comes to mind. She tries to shake him out of her head – thinking causes nothing but annoyance and guilt – but his face persistently throbs in her memory. Memories flood back, playing pool at his apartment – or rather, beating him at pool – make her smile for a brief moment. Then the incessant guilt bites at her heart.
He loved you, it wails like a siren, why did you leave him?
“Because I couldn’t take it. You know that. He would’ve married me in an instant, and it frightened me to have someone be so attached to me. It’s not healthy to be that emotionally attached, at least not after only a few months.”
He did what he did because he cared, and you shoved him away. Why, Anna, why did you shove him into misery?
“He set himself up, if anything. He was too emotional and needy. He was bringing me down and I needed space, but he wouldn’t give me space. Instead, he caused me more problems. So, I did away with him.”
You’re heartless.
“I am not! I just had so many problems then. I felt that if I could get rid of one problem, just one source, then I’d be alright. He was the only problem I could control.”
He wasn’t such a bad problem.
“I know, but he just amplified everything else that was going on. I know it’s no excuse, but my mom was having surgery on my birthday, and I left my friends behind to switch schools. It was tough.”
Life is tough. You learn to deal.
“This is how I dealt. I got rid of one source of confusion. Relationships in general are a bad idea for me. I give everything, and then when they want my heart I hold back, because that’s the one thing I can’t let go of.”
You’ll end up alone.
“No I won’t. For now I’m fine with being alone. I know how to handle it. Besides, love is a ridiculous concept.”
Why would you say that?
Anna pauses, not bothering to answer her conscience, and stares at the newly developed photo. It depicts a teenage couple sitting, hand and hand, on a park bench. Anna’s eyes dilate at the sight of the girl’s bright yellow hair. The same hair the girl with the letter had, the vanishing girl.
