Ghosts of bygone Leni Korhonen Ghosts of bygone Some days, I feel like I’m drowning in my own mind. Leni Korhonen An Ovi eBooks Publication 2024 Ovi eBookPublications - All material is copyright of the Ovi eBooks Publications & the writer C Ovi ebooks are available in Ovi/Ovi eBookshelves pages and they are for free. If somebody tries to sell you an Ovi book please contact us immediately. For details, contact: ovimagazine@yahoo.com No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise), without the prior permission of the writer or the above publisher of this book Ghosts of bygone Ghosts of bygone Leni Korhonen Leni Korhonen An Ovi eBooks Publication 2024 Ovi eBookPublications - All material is copyright of the Ovi eBooks Publications & the writer C Ghosts of bygone A va Bennett always felt like she lived with a question mark etched into her soul—a lin- gering, unresolved mystery about where she came from. She had been adopted at two years old, and her life with Claire and Jim Bennett was one of comfort, laughter, and safety. But despite all the love her parents poured into her, Ava couldn’t shake the feeling that there was a part of herself she didn’t un- derstand. It wasn’t something she openly discussed; she didn’t want to sound ungrateful. Still, it gnawed at her. Her adoptive parents never talked much about her birth mother, only giving vague responses about Ava being “a blessing” and “meant to be part of their family.” And for the most part, Ava had accepted that. Leni Korhonen She grew up in a small town in Vermont, the kind where everyone knew each other. She was an active member of the community, volunteering at the local shelter and working part-time at a bookstore while finishing her degree in social work. On the outside, her life seemed perfectly in order. But then the letter arrived. It was a typical Tuesday afternoon when Ava found the envelope sitting on her doorstep, the return ad- dress unfamiliar. She had just come back from an exhausting day at the bookstore, where customers had been particularly irritable due to an unexpect- ed rainstorm. Her mind was filled with thoughts of exams and projects, not distant mysteries. When she saw the plain envelope with the name “Ava Bennett” scrawled across it, her heart fluttered with an inexpli- cable sense of dread. “What’s this?” she muttered, crouching down to pick it up. She glanced around, half-expecting some- one to jump out and claim it as a mistake. But the street was empty except for the steady drizzle. Her fingers were damp from the rain as she tore open the envelope, her pulse quickening. The letter inside was brief, almost business-like. Ghosts of bygone It was from a lawyer named Ethan Parker, who stat- ed that he had been handling her birth mother’s es- tate. Ava’s first thought was disbelief. She had always imagined her biological mother was long gone, either completely unaware of her existence or too wrapped up in her own troubles to care. But as she read on, a chill ran through her. “Your mother, Katherine Langley, passed away ear- lier this year,” the letter read. “She left behind a small estate and personal items, which include letters ad- dressed to you. It is my duty to inform you of these matters and to ask if you would like to claim her be- longings.” Ava’s breath hitched. Katherine Langley. Her moth- er had a name. The rest of the letter was a blur, something about legal documents and an attached phone number to arrange a meeting. But Ava’s mind was too busy reeling. She could hardly focus on anything else. She sat down on the worn wooden steps of her house, clutching the letter like it might disintegrate at any moment. She read the name over and over: Katherine Lang- ley. She had a face now, a voice that Ava had never Leni Korhonen heard, and a life that she had never been a part of. And she was gone, before Ava even had a chance to know her. Ava’s adoptive parents, Claire and Jim, were lov- ing and supportive, always encouraging her to pur- sue her dreams and build a life she could be proud of. They’d been there for every skinned knee, every academic achievement, every heartbreak. They were the ones who made her believe in her worth and her place in the world. But they were also the ones who had kept Katherine a secret, who had never given Ava a chance to know the woman who brought her into this world. The anger was unexpected. It flared up inside Ava, twisting her stomach into knots. She felt betrayed, as though her entire life had been built on half-truths. The more she thought about it, the more her pulse quickened, and the world around her seemed to blur. Ava tried to remember anything from her early childhood, but the memories were fragmented, like torn pieces of paper. She recalled vague images of bright lights, strange faces, and the distinct feeling of waiting—waiting for someone who never came. She had spent time in an orphanage before Claire and Jim adopted her, but she didn’t remember much Ghosts of bygone about it. Her adoptive parents always said it was a blessing that she couldn’t recall those early years. But now, those forgotten fragments felt like miss- ing pieces of a much larger puzzle. And Ava was be- ginning to wonder if she had been too quick to ac- cept her ignorance as a gift. Sitting on the porch, the rain pattering softly around her, Ava felt utterly lost. The letter lay heavy in her hands, a link to a past she wasn’t sure she was ready to confront. She knew she had to talk to Claire and Jim, but the thought made her feel like she was betraying them. They had been her whole world, and she wasn’t sure if they’d understand the questions burning inside her. With a deep breath, Ava folded the letter and placed it carefully back in the envelope. She wasn’t ready to tell her parents. Not yet. First, she needed to decide what she was going to do with the information. The lawyer had mentioned that Katherine had left behind letters for her. The idea of reading her mother’s words, of finally understand- ing who she was, sent a shiver down Ava’s spine. She didn’t know if she was ready to face that reality. Leni Korhonen Ava didn’t sleep that night. Her mind was too busy racing, replaying every word of the letter over and over again. By morning, she had made a decision. She called the lawyer’s office and set up a meeting. The following day, she found herself sitting in a cramped office, facing Ethan Parker, a man with graying hair and kind eyes. He explained that Kath- erine had left behind several journals and letters, which were to be given to Ava upon request. “Your mother,” Parker said, his voice careful and measured, “wanted you to have these, to understand her story.” Ava could hardly breathe as he slid a worn leath- er journal and a stack of letters across the table. She picked up the journal, feeling the rough texture be- neath her fingertips. It was heavier than she expect- ed, and Ava felt a pang of sorrow knowing that her mother’s thoughts, her life, were contained within those pages. She took the journal and letters home, feeling a mix of anticipation and dread. The drive back was a blur, her mind swirling with questions. What if her mother was someone she didn’t want to know? What if the truth was more painful than the silence she had lived with? Ghosts of bygone That evening, Ava locked herself in her room and opened the journal. The pages were yellowed with age, the handwriting looping and elegant. As she be- gan to read, she felt as though she were stepping into a different world—a world that was both achingly fa- miliar and frighteningly foreign. In the first few entries, Katherine wrote about her struggles with mental illness, her feelings of isola- tion, and her desire to be a good mother despite the darkness that seemed to consume her at times. Ava read about the moments of hope and the crushing despair, the hospital stays, and the whispered con- versations with doctors who didn’t know how to help. The words were raw and unfiltered, a glimpse into the mind of a woman Ava had never known. Kather- ine wrote about her guilt for giving Ava up, her fear that she had passed her pain onto her daughter, and her hope that Ava would find happiness despite the brokenness she had inherited. Ava’s heart ached as she read each entry, tears blur- ring the words on the page. For the first time in her life, she felt connected to her mother—not just as a distant, tragic figure, but as a person who had strug- gled and fought to do what was best for her child. The anger and betrayal Ava had felt began to soften, Leni Korhonen replaced by a deep sadness for the woman who had been a stranger to her. After days of processing what she had read, Ava knew she couldn’t keep this to herself any longer. She had to confront Claire and Jim, she owed them that much. It was a quiet evening when Ava finally gathered the courage to speak to her parents. They were sitting in the living room, watching TV, when Ava turned off the screen. Claire looked up, startled, and Jim fur- rowed his brow in confusion. “I need to talk to you,” Ava said, her voice trem- bling. “What is it, sweetheart?” Claire asked, her tone gentle but wary. Ava took a deep breath, the words catching in her throat. She pulled out the letter from Katherine’s law- yer and placed it on the coffee table. “I got this a few days ago,” Ava said, her voice bare- ly above a whisper. “It’s about my birth mother.” The color drained from Claire’s face, and Jim’s ex- pression hardened. There was a heavy silence as they Ghosts of bygone both read the letter, the weight of the truth settling between them like a dark cloud. “Why didn’t you tell me?” Ava asked, her voice breaking. “Why did you keep this from me?” Claire looked stricken, her eyes filling with tears. “Ava, we... we didn’t know how to tell you,” she stam- mered. “We wanted to protect you.” “Protect me?” Ava’s voice was filled with bitterness. “By keeping the truth from me? By letting me grow up not knowing who my mother was?” “Ava, we love you,” Jim said firmly. “We didn’t want you to be burdened by her illness, by the pain she carried. We thought we were doing the right thing.” Ava shook her head, tears streaming down her face. “You should have trusted me,” she whispered. “You should have given me the chance to decide for myself.” Claire reached out, but Ava pulled away, the hurt too raw and deep. “I need some time,” Ava said, her voice thick with emotion. “I need to figure out who I am, and I can’t do that if I’m angry with you.” Leni Korhonen II. In the days following her call to the investigator, Ava’s obsession with learning about her mother deepened. She spent her evenings at the local library, pouring over old records and scanning through ar- chived newspapers in a desperate attempt to piece together Katherine’s life. Every mention of mental illness in those pages seemed to jump out at her, like clues in a mystery that only she could solve. Ava felt like she was searching for someone who had been erased from the world, left behind in the shadows of history. It wasn’t long before Ava received a call from the investigator. His name was Samuel Hartman—a no-nonsense man with a gravelly voice and a repu- tation for discretion. He informed Ava that he had found some leads, starting with a former friend of Katherine’s named Rita Maxwell. Ghosts of bygone “She was close to your mother back in the day,” Hartman explained. “She might be able to fill in some gaps for you.” Rita Maxwell lived in a modest, run-down apart- ment on the outskirts of town. When Ava knocked on the door, a frail, elderly woman opened it. Rita’s once-bright eyes were now dim with age, but they widened slightly at the sight of Ava. “You must be Katherine’s girl,” Rita said softly, her voice raspy with years. Ava nodded, unsure of what to say. Rita gestured for her to come in. The apartment was cluttered with old books and faded photographs, remnants of a life lived long ago. Rita poured them both cups of tea, her hands shaking slightly as she set the cups down on a small wooden table. “I haven’t seen your mother in years,” Rita admit- ted, her voice wistful. “She was always so full of life, even when things got bad.” “Bad?” Ava repeated, her heart racing. Rita sighed heavily. “Katherine struggled, you know. She had a lot of demons, but she never let it stop her from trying to be a good mother.” Leni Korhonen Ava felt a lump forming in her throat. “What hap- pened to her?” Rita took a deep breath, as if the weight of old memories pressed down on her shoulders. “Your mother... she was a bright light, but she burned out too quickly. She fought her illness, but it was relent- less.” Rita told Ava stories of Katherine’s life, how she was once a vibrant, creative woman who loved poetry and painting. She had dreams of being an artist, but those dreams were overshadowed by the constant battle with her mind. Rita spoke of the highs and lows, the days when Katherine seemed unstoppable and the days when she disappeared into herself, unreachable. “She loved you, you know,” Rita said, her voice thick with emotion. “She always talked about you, even when she was at her worst. You were her reason to keep going.” Ava listened in silence, absorbing every word. Her mother’s story was coming into focus, but there were still so many gaps, so many questions left un- answered. Ava thanked Rita for her time and left the apartment with a sense of both clarity and confusion. Ghosts of bygone Determined to learn more, Ava tracked down old records from the hospital where Katherine had been treated. It took hours of digging through paperwork and making phone calls, but eventually, she found a social worker named Evelyn Carter who remem- bered Katherine. Evelyn met Ava at a small café, her demeanor warm and professional. She seemed genuinely interested in helping Ava find the answers she sought. As they sipped their coffee, Evelyn began recounting Kather- ine’s experiences with the healthcare system. “Katherine was a complicated case,” Evelyn ex- plained. “She suffered from severe depression and what we now understand as bipolar disorder. But back then, mental health care wasn’t as comprehen- sive as it is today. There was a lot of stigma, and not enough resources.” Evelyn described how Katherine had been admit- ted to the hospital multiple times, each stay a tempo- rary reprieve from the storm raging inside her. Medi- cation provided some relief, but the side effects often left Katherine feeling like a ghost of herself. “She felt trapped between two versions of herself,” Evelyn said, her voice tinged with sadness. “The Leni Korhonen person she wanted to be and the person her illness forced her to become.” As Ava listened, she couldn’t help but feel an over- whelming sense of empathy for her mother. She imagined Katherine struggling to hold on to the life she had built, trying to protect Ava from the dark- ness that consumed her. But the more she learned, the more Ava realized that her mother had been failed—by society, by the healthcare system, and per- haps even by her own family. Through Evelyn, Ava learned about Katherine’s strained relationship with her own parents. Kather- ine had grown up in a strict, conservative household where mental illness was considered a sign of weak- ness. Her parents, John and Margaret, had never ac- knowledged Katherine’s struggles, instead choosing to blame her for her “failings.” “They thought she just needed to toughen up,” Ev- elyn explained. “They didn’t understand that what she was going through wasn’t something she could just will away.” Ava was stunned by the revelation. She had always imagined her grandparents as distant, faceless fig- ures, but now they were real people who had played Ghosts of bygone a role in her mother’s suffering. She wondered if they had ever regretted their actions, if they had mourned Katherine’s death in their own way. Or had they sim- ply moved on, too ashamed to confront their own guilt? One day, Ava received an unexpected package in the mail. It was a small, weathered journal, its pag- es yellowed with age. There was no return address, only a note that read: This belonged to your mother. I thought you should have it. Ava’s hands shook as she opened the journal, her heart pounding in her chest. The first page was dat- ed years before Ava’s birth, and the handwriting was delicate and precise—just like the words on the back of the photograph. July 15, 1989 Some days, I feel like I’m drowning in my own mind. It’s like there’s a darkness inside me that I can’t escape, no matter how hard I try. But then I think of her, my little Ava. I have to keep going for her. She’s my light, my reason to keep fighting. Tears blurred Ava’s vision as she read her mother’s words. The entries were a window into Katherine’s soul, revealing her fears, her hopes, and her deep Leni Korhonen love for her daughter. Ava felt as if she were having a conversation with her mother, finally understanding the woman who had given her life. But the journal also revealed the depth of Kath- erine’s pain. There were entries where Katherine ex- pressed her frustration with her family’s lack of sup- port, her anger at the healthcare system that seemed to treat her as a burden rather than a person in need of help. She wrote of the loneliness that consumed her, even in the presence of others. October 3, 1990 They don’t understand. They never have. They tell me to get over it, to pull myself together, but it’s not that simple. I wish they could see how hard I’m trying, how much I want to be better for Ava. But every day feels like a battle, and I’m so tired. Ava felt her chest tighten as she read the final en- tries, written just weeks before Katherine’s death. The words were disjointed, frantic, as if Katherine’s thoughts were slipping away from her. The last entry was a simple plea: Please, let her be happy. The weight of everything Ava had learned was overwhelming. She felt as if she were carrying not only her mother’s pain but the pain of every person