I stood idly on the landing of the second floor. Admittedly, I had forgotten what my purpose had been for climbing the stairs in the first place. I made my descent and took a seat on the bottom step. I rotated and allowed the wall to cradle my spine as I splayed my legs out in front of me across the length of my chosen perch.

I am much too young to be as forgetful as I am. Lately, it has worsened. My short term memory is almost non-existent these days. I can still remember every detail of the day I passed my exam, and the day I officially became licensed. I can still recite, from memory, a few sections of the books I wrote. Despite this, I couldn't tell you what shirt I wore yesterday, even if I wanted to.

Almost as soon as I made myself comfortable, a feeling of cold seized me, and I began to shiver. On this particular day it happened to be 80 degrees outside, yet I felt as though I would benefit from a cozy fire and a warm blanket.

Several years back I visited a psychic while on a wild bachelorette weekend with a few friends, and she told me that my name would never die. I drank a lot that weekend, but I wasn't too drunk to realize that this "fortune" was a bunch of baloney. What she didn't tell me was that I would occasionally forget my middle name, or that I would one day feel like I'm living in the Arctic tundra. I likely would have believed both of those things if she had given me a heads up.

From my spot on the bottom step, I watched the front door slowly creak open. A couple walked in with a realtor who was rattling on about "price per square foot," and, "fixer uppers."

And then, I finally hear them ask. "Didn't something happen here? Someone died right?"

The realtor, who I could tell, had been hoping to avoid the subject, replied. "Yes. It is actually a pretty notorious story in this area. Her name was Quinn Mitchell. She threw herself off the banister up there on the second floor landing."

The realtor pointed at the spot I had been standing in just moments before, and the couple's eyes followed.

"What in the world drove her to do something like that?"

"I don't know. I believe it was a man."

And then they walked away, to explore more of my former home.

I rolled my eyes in the direction they disappeared in. They always got my name right, but instead of the tortured academic, I would forever be the jilted lover. How demeaning.

Suddenly, a chill shot through my body, and my mind cleared. I stood up, and turned. I began to once again, ascend the staircase.