I don’t know how long I was asleep before I woke up, but it’s still dark outside, and I’m still snuggled up against Aunt Sandy with her arms around me, although I now have a leg thrown across her in addition to my arm.
Since it’s still early, I attempt to fall back asleep, but I can’t for some reason. Finally, I give up and begin wondering how much I’ll eventually be able to remember about my past. Honestly, since I woke up, I’ve been rather busy, so I haven’t had a chance to think about it. Of course, that also means that I haven’t had time to focus on the fact that I lost my parents. Try as I might, I can’t even picture their faces, and that’s upsetting. I can’t remember anything about them, where we lived, or any friends I might have had. Nothing. It’s a complete blank other than the mere raw knowledge that I had from my parents. It’s far too much to expect a 10-year-old to deal with emotionally, and I again erupt into tears, which wake Aunt Sandy. She holds me tightly against her and rocks me gently while she allows me to simply let it all out.
Aunt Sandy's gentle voice startles me awake. “Good morning, Sweetheart.”
“G’morning,” I murmur sleepily as I rub my eyes.
“Okay, little one, wash your face and get dressed, then come down for breakfast. Don’t forget to make your bed.”
I look out the window and see that it’s another bright, sunny day. “‘kay.”
After she gets up and leaves the room, I force myself to follow suit and make my bed. In the bathroom, I wash my face and brush my teeth, then head to my closet to find something to wear. I hesitate while looking over different options before settling on a pink bra and panty set, a white camisole, a red knee-length skirt, a white halter top, no-show socks, and white with red-trim sports shoes. After finally deciding on an outfit, I quickly dress and tie my hair up in a ponytail. The smell of bacon wafts up from the kitchen as I make my way downstairs, ready for breakfast.
Just as I reach the bottom of the stairs, I freeze in my tracks as Aunt Sandy's voice reaches me from the kitchen, sharp and frantic. “Damn it, Liam! Don’t you dare patronize me! You weren’t there; you didn’t see how rattled she was. For God’s sake, she was terrified—not that I can blame her! I would be too, if it were me! I’m telling you, something is very wrong!” A sense of dread washes over me as Aunt Sandy's words sink in. “Damn it! Listen to me! I'm telling you, something is very wrong!” Her voice cracks with emotion as she pleads for him to believe her. My stomach twists into knots as a sense of dread engulfs me.
He grunts. “She’s merely confused. You damn well know that it’s a natural side effect of the procedure,” he states in a patronizing tone.
“Bullshit!” She almost screams, his voice a mix of disbelief and anger. “I’ve treated countless patients who underwent the same procedure, and not one of them was like this! No confusion, no bizarre memories plaguing their minds, and certainly no nightmares!”
“Calm down, Sandy. She might hear you,” he hisses at her loudly.
“I couldn’t care less. It’s barbaric that they would dare to erase her. We’re doctors. Do no harm, right? I refuse to believe it was for her own good. What kind of sick, twisted minds could even entertain such an idea? And now I’m left with a daughter who is lost, terrified, and thrust into a world she doesn’t recognize or understand.”
He groans loudly. “Honey,” he says, his voice tainted with frustration. “Those decisions are made well above our pay grade, and we agreed to take her in and raise her as our own.” He pauses for a few seconds. “I wish it were different, but all we can do is help her find her bearings and be here for her.”
She huffs in frustration before letting out a heavy sigh. “Fine, you're right. I just hate seeing my little girl so scared and confused.” Her voice is somber as she continues, “ Maybe I should set an appointment for her with a therapist. That might help.”
“That’s probably a good idea. I’ll call Dr. Grey and tell him what’s going on as well.”
As soon as the name crosses his lips, my hands curl into tight fists, nails digging into my palms as a surge of unbridled fury tears through me like a storm. I can't explain it, but the mere mention of this person ignites an inferno of animosity and disgust from within me. Suddenly, I hear Harper’s door close and footsteps heading for the stairs and I quickly paste a pleasant smile on my face as I look up. I struggle to maintain my composure, but manage to brightly say, “Good morning, Harper.”
"Good morning," she greets me with a warm smile. "Were you waiting for me?" I nod, and her smile widens.
Heck, even a 10-year-old knows to say yes to that question. Admitting to eavesdropping on my aunt and uncle's conversation isn’t exactly a bright idea. Plus, can you imagine the awkward discussion we would have if I did admit to it?
She quickly descends the stairs, takes my hand, and leads me into the dining room. The stunned expressions on Aunt Sandy and Uncle Liam’s faces are clear proof that they’ve been caught in the act of something. It doesn't take a genius to figure out that something is going on.
Hence, Harper immediately stopped and asked, “What’s going on?”
Uncle Liam flushes and quickly says, “Nothing for you two to worry about, honey. Come and sit down; breakfast will be ready soon.”
Harper and I exchange an incredulous look, then do as we were asked. Look, I heard them, or at least, I heard part of what they were talking about, so don’t tell me it’s nothing to worry about. Especially when your conversation lends credence to the thought that I know nothing of this world. It’s almost as if I suddenly fell from the sky to surprise everyone. Plus, to top it all off, they’re talking about taking me to a therapist. And, somehow, this means that I shouldn’t worry. Uh-huh, sure. I’m 10, not stupid.
Putting all those thoughts aside, breakfast is simply delightful. French toast and sausage patties are on the menu for today. I watch as Aunt Sandy expertly halves the toast, buttering each piece before sprinkling them with powdered sugar and topping it all off with a generous drizzle of maple syrup. As delicious as they are, I can only manage to eat three pieces of toast and one sausage patty before I am full. I’m going to have many firsts again with my inability to remember, some of them promise to be wonderful.
After breakfast, Harper and I are sitting on the sofa, watching a kids’ show when the intercom chimes. Uncle Liam goes to answer it and comes back with Mia and Lori. They don’t make it far into the living room before Harper chirps, “Hi. Why don’t we all go to my room?” Without waiting for an answer, Harper gets up and begins to go to her room, then stops when I don’t follow. “You too, Kayla.”
The remainder of the morning goes by rather quickly, with the four of us getting to know one another and playing. Frankly, I’m thankful for the distraction they provided. Otherwise, I’d have likely ended up focusing on my issues and what I heard. Lunch rolls around, and Aunt Sandy calls us down for lunch, which also means that Mia and Lori have to go home for lunch as well.
During lunch, I notice that Uncle Liam hasn’t joined us, so I ask, “Where’s Uncle Liam?”
As Aunt Sandy places our plates of a sandwich and chips in front of us, she replies in a distant tone, “He had to go meet someone. He’ll be back before long.”
Her statement makes me wonder if he went to see that Dr. Grey person. You know, the one that made me furious when I heard their name? After lunch, Harper and I asked—well, really, it was Harper asking if we could go play at the park. Aunt Sandy says yes and to be back before dinner. We head across the street to see if Mia and Lori can go as well, and then the four of us head down the block to our little neighborhood park. I say little, but that’s only in comparison to how large city-owned parks tend to be. Ours is only a few acres, but it has slides, swings, climbing towers, etc., and it even has a pond with a fountain in the middle of it. It’s surrounded by lots of trees and is landscaped beautifully. In my opinion, it’s a rather nice little park.
We have a great time playing. We play tag, swing on the swings, and even climb the towers at my suggestion. We play our little hearts out until it’s time to go home. When we get back, I see Uncle Liam’s car on the pad. Inside, we’re told to go wash up since dinner is almost ready. Besides Uncle Liam saying ‘Hi’ to us, he never mentions anything about where he went or who he saw. Dinner is basic fare, but still yummy. Meatloaf, mashed potatoes, gravy, and veggies. After we eat, we watch Holovision for a while until we’re told to bathe and go to bed.
The day just flew by, and it does make me wonder what life has in store for me next. Let’s just say that there are going to be some tough times ahead for me as time passes.
The next couple of months go by quite slowly from my point of view. Twice a week, we have to take a seat on the couch while our devices ‘teach’ us. That’s the quick part since it only takes a few minutes to implant the knowledge, but unpacking everything that’s been implanted takes several hours a day for a couple of days, and then it takes even longer when you have to ask your device questions to clarify something. Frankly, it’s mentally tiring to do it, though suddenly knowing things is rather cool. Even better, Phoebe informs me that I can’t forget it either. How they manage to do that is never explained, nor did I ask, but there it is. These five-minute teaching sessions implant the knowledge of several weeks’ worth of traditional schooling.
One time I asked Phoebe why all the knowledge wasn’t simply implanted all at once. Her response kind of made sense when I thought about it. Implanting knowledge like that is dangerous for our still-maturing brains. Then she pointed out to me how just five minutes of implanted knowledge makes me feel when I unpack it. She further explained that when it was first tested, they tried doing it all at once, and it ended up causing numerous problems with the test subjects. Strokes, memory loss, loss of personality, and, in the worst-case scenarios, a permanent coma or even death. I believe I’ll stick with the five-minute lessons. Thank you very much. Especially since my mind is already muddled enough.
True to her word, Aunt Sandy, or just Sandy, as she asked me to call her since I declined to call her Mom, made an appointment for me to see a psychotherapist, and over these last few months, the psychotherapy AI and I have been able to help me feel more at home in my skin and realize that even though I have odd flashes of memory that don’t even seem to be mine, they’re most likely a product of my mind trying to sort things out. The AI called it a depersonalization disorder, or having a waking dream, as another way to explain it.
I can say that I’ve enjoyed my new family. Especially now that I have a sister. I’m quite happy with the way things are going for me, and I’m looking forward to the future. I’ve even made friends with some of the other girls our age in our neighborhood. I should also mention that Harper is the unquestioned leader of our little group of friends.
It was late August when things took a turn for the worse for me. Harper, some of our friends, and I were out riding our bikes when I saw a teenage boy, froze, fell off my bike, and hit my head rather hard. I woke up in the hospital.
I was told that the nanites had to repair a huge gash on my head as well as remove a subdural hematoma from the fall. They kept me asleep while the nanites did their thing to minimize the chances of something worse happening.
The reason I say things took a turn for the worse is that while I was out, I had very vivid dreams of looking at myself in a mirror and seeing a boy looking back at me, one who coincidentally looked quite a bit like the one I saw in my neighborhood. He spent a lot of his time with a girl, who I think might be his girlfriend. Strangely, he went to a school. I also saw him alone in a rather plain room. One like you would see in a hospital, but I don’t believe he was hurt or that it was a hospital. It just didn’t have that feel.
I had to speak with the therapist AI again, and after I told her what I had dreamed, Dr. Grey showed up in my hospital room later that day.
The moment I see him, my whole body heats up as utter rage storms through me. I have no idea why, but I can’t stand him.“You motherfucker! You did this to me!” I scream furiously.
Everyone in the room—the nurse, Sandy, Liam, and Dr. Grey—are shocked into immobility for a moment until Dr. Grey whispers something to the nurse, who then leaves and comes back a short time later to, grab my arm, and quickly presses something against my neck. It hisses and I don’t even have time to turn my head before everything goes dark.
I don’t know how long I was asleep before I woke up, but it’s still dark outside, and I’m still snuggled up against Aunt Sandy with her arms around me, although I now have a leg thrown across her in addition to my arm.
Since it’s still early, I attempt to fall back asleep, but I can’t for some reason. Finally, I give up and begin wondering how much I’ll eventually be able to remember about my past. Honestly, since I woke up, I’ve been rather busy, so I haven’t had a chance to think about it. Of course, that also means that I haven’t had time to focus on the fact that I lost my parents. Try as I might, I can’t even picture their faces, and that’s upsetting. I can’t remember anything about them, where we lived, or any friends I might have had. Nothing. It’s a complete blank other than the mere raw knowledge that I had from my parents. It’s far too much to expect a 10-year-old to deal with emotionally, and I again erupt into tears, which wake Aunt Sandy. She holds me tightly against her and rocks me gently while she allows me to simply let it all out.
Aunt Sandy's gentle voice startles me awake. “Good morning, Sweetheart.”
“G’morning,” I murmur sleepily as I rub my eyes.
“Okay, little one, wash your face and get dressed, then come down for breakfast. Don’t forget to make your bed.”
I look out the window and see that it’s another bright, sunny day. “‘kay.”
After she gets up and leaves the room, I force myself to follow suit and make my bed. In the bathroom, I wash my face and brush my teeth, then head to my closet to find something to wear. I hesitate while looking over different options before settling on a pink bra and panty set, a white camisole, a red knee-length skirt, a white halter top, no-show socks, and white with red-trim sports shoes. After finally deciding on an outfit, I quickly dress and tie my hair up in a ponytail. The smell of bacon wafts up from the kitchen as I make my way downstairs, ready for breakfast.
Just as I reach the bottom of the stairs, I freeze in my tracks as Aunt Sandy's voice reaches me from the kitchen, sharp and frantic. “Damn it, Liam! Don’t you dare patronize me! You weren’t there; you didn’t see how rattled she was. For God’s sake, she was terrified—not that I can blame her! I would be too, if it were me! I’m telling you, something is very wrong!” A sense of dread washes over me as Aunt Sandy's words sink in. “Damn it! Listen to me! I'm telling you, something is very wrong!” Her voice cracks with emotion as she pleads for him to believe her. My stomach twists into knots as a sense of dread engulfs me.
He grunts. “She’s merely confused. You damn well know that it’s a natural side effect of the procedure,” he states in a patronizing tone.
“Bullshit!” She almost screams, his voice a mix of disbelief and anger. “I’ve treated countless patients who underwent the same procedure, and not one of them was like this! No confusion, no bizarre memories plaguing their minds, and certainly no nightmares!”
“Calm down, Sandy. She might hear you,” he hisses at her loudly.
“I couldn’t care less. It’s barbaric that they would dare to erase her. We’re doctors. Do no harm, right? I refuse to believe it was for her own good. What kind of sick, twisted minds could even entertain such an idea? And now I’m left with a daughter who is lost, terrified, and thrust into a world she doesn’t recognize or understand.”
He groans loudly. “Honey,” he says, his voice tainted with frustration. “Those decisions are made well above our pay grade, and we agreed to take her in and raise her as our own.” He pauses for a few seconds. “I wish it were different, but all we can do is help her find her bearings and be here for her.”
She huffs in frustration before letting out a heavy sigh. “Fine, you're right. I just hate seeing my little girl so scared and confused.” Her voice is somber as she continues, “ Maybe I should set an appointment for her with a therapist. That might help.”
“That’s probably a good idea. I’ll call Dr. Grey and tell him what’s going on as well.”
As soon as the name crosses his lips, my hands curl into tight fists, nails digging into my palms as a surge of unbridled fury tears through me like a storm. I can't explain it, but the mere mention of this person ignites an inferno of animosity and disgust from within me. Suddenly, I hear Harper’s door close and footsteps heading for the stairs and I quickly paste a pleasant smile on my face as I look up. I struggle to maintain my composure, but manage to brightly say, “Good morning, Harper.”
"Good morning," she greets me with a warm smile. "Were you waiting for me?" I nod, and her smile widens.
Heck, even a 10-year-old knows to say yes to that question. Admitting to eavesdropping on my aunt and uncle's conversation isn’t exactly a bright idea. Plus, can you imagine the awkward discussion we would have if I did admit to it?
She quickly descends the stairs, takes my hand, and leads me into the dining room. The stunned expressions on Aunt Sandy and Uncle Liam’s faces are clear proof that they’ve been caught in the act of something. It doesn't take a genius to figure out that something is going on.
Hence, Harper immediately stopped and asked, “What’s going on?”
Uncle Liam flushes and quickly says, “Nothing for you two to worry about, honey. Come and sit down; breakfast will be ready soon.”
Harper and I exchange an incredulous look, then do as we were asked. Look, I heard them, or at least, I heard part of what they were talking about, so don’t tell me it’s nothing to worry about. Especially when your conversation lends credence to the thought that I know nothing of this world. It’s almost as if I suddenly fell from the sky to surprise everyone. Plus, to top it all off, they’re talking about taking me to a therapist. And, somehow, this means that I shouldn’t worry. Uh-huh, sure. I’m 10, not stupid.
Putting all those thoughts aside, breakfast is simply delightful. French toast and sausage patties are on the menu for today. I watch as Aunt Sandy expertly halves the toast, buttering each piece before sprinkling them with powdered sugar and topping it all off with a generous drizzle of maple syrup. As delicious as they are, I can only manage to eat three pieces of toast and one sausage patty before I am full. I’m going to have many firsts again with my inability to remember, some of them promise to be wonderful.
After breakfast, Harper and I are sitting on the sofa, watching a kids’ show when the intercom chimes. Uncle Liam goes to answer it and comes back with Mia and Lori. They don’t make it far into the living room before Harper chirps, “Hi. Why don’t we all go to my room?” Without waiting for an answer, Harper gets up and begins to go to her room, then stops when I don’t follow. “You too, Kayla.”
The remainder of the morning goes by rather quickly, with the four of us getting to know one another and playing. Frankly, I’m thankful for the distraction they provided. Otherwise, I’d have likely ended up focusing on my issues and what I heard. Lunch rolls around, and Aunt Sandy calls us down for lunch, which also means that Mia and Lori have to go home for lunch as well.
During lunch, I notice that Uncle Liam hasn’t joined us, so I ask, “Where’s Uncle Liam?”
As Aunt Sandy places our plates of a sandwich and chips in front of us, she replies in a distant tone, “He had to go meet someone. He’ll be back before long.”
Her statement makes me wonder if he went to see that Dr. Grey person. You know, the one that made me furious when I heard their name? After lunch, Harper and I asked—well, really, it was Harper asking if we could go play at the park. Aunt Sandy says yes and to be back before dinner. We head across the street to see if Mia and Lori can go as well, and then the four of us head down the block to our little neighborhood park. I say little, but that’s only in comparison to how large city-owned parks tend to be. Ours is only a few acres, but it has slides, swings, climbing towers, etc., and it even has a pond with a fountain in the middle of it. It’s surrounded by lots of trees and is landscaped beautifully. In my opinion, it’s a rather nice little park.
We have a great time playing. We play tag, swing on the swings, and even climb the towers at my suggestion. We play our little hearts out until it’s time to go home. When we get back, I see Uncle Liam’s car on the pad. Inside, we’re told to go wash up since dinner is almost ready. Besides Uncle Liam saying ‘Hi’ to us, he never mentions anything about where he went or who he saw. Dinner is basic fare, but still yummy. Meatloaf, mashed potatoes, gravy, and veggies. After we eat, we watch Holovision for a while until we’re told to bathe and go to bed.
The day just flew by, and it does make me wonder what life has in store for me next. Let’s just say that there are going to be some tough times ahead for me as time passes.
The next couple of months go by quite slowly from my point of view. Twice a week, we have to take a seat on the couch while our devices ‘teach’ us. That’s the quick part since it only takes a few minutes to implant the knowledge, but unpacking everything that’s been implanted takes several hours a day for a couple of days, and then it takes even longer when you have to ask your device questions to clarify something. Frankly, it’s mentally tiring to do it, though suddenly knowing things is rather cool. Even better, Phoebe informs me that I can’t forget it either. How they manage to do that is never explained, nor did I ask, but there it is. These five-minute teaching sessions implant the knowledge of several weeks’ worth of traditional schooling.
One time I asked Phoebe why all the knowledge wasn’t simply implanted all at once. Her response kind of made sense when I thought about it. Implanting knowledge like that is dangerous for our still-maturing brains. Then she pointed out to me how just five minutes of implanted knowledge makes me feel when I unpack it. She further explained that when it was first tested, they tried doing it all at once, and it ended up causing numerous problems with the test subjects. Strokes, memory loss, loss of personality, and, in the worst-case scenarios, a permanent coma or even death. I believe I’ll stick with the five-minute lessons. Thank you very much. Especially since my mind is already muddled enough.
True to her word, Aunt Sandy, or just Sandy, as she asked me to call her since I declined to call her Mom, made an appointment for me to see a psychotherapist, and over these last few months, the psychotherapy AI and I have been able to help me feel more at home in my skin and realize that even though I have odd flashes of memory that don’t even seem to be mine, they’re most likely a product of my mind trying to sort things out. The AI called it a depersonalization disorder, or having a waking dream, as another way to explain it.
I can say that I’ve enjoyed my new family. Especially now that I have a sister. I’m quite happy with the way things are going for me, and I’m looking forward to the future. I’ve even made friends with some of the other girls our age in our neighborhood. I should also mention that Harper is the unquestioned leader of our little group of friends.
It was late August when things took a turn for the worse for me. Harper, some of our friends, and I were out riding our bikes when I saw a teenage boy, froze, fell off my bike, and hit my head rather hard. I woke up in the hospital.
I was told that the nanites had to repair a huge gash on my head as well as remove a subdural hematoma from the fall. They kept me asleep while the nanites did their thing to minimize the chances of something worse happening.
The reason I say things took a turn for the worse is that while I was out, I had very vivid dreams of looking at myself in a mirror and seeing a boy looking back at me, one who coincidentally looked quite a bit like the one I saw in my neighborhood. He spent a lot of his time with a girl, who I think might be his girlfriend. Strangely, he went to a school. I also saw him alone in a rather plain room. One like you would see in a hospital, but I don’t believe he was hurt or that it was a hospital. It just didn’t have that feel.
I had to speak with the therapist AI again, and after I told her what I had dreamed, Dr. Grey showed up in my hospital room later that day.
The moment I see him, my whole body heats up as utter rage storms through me. I have no idea why, but I can’t stand him.“You motherfucker! You did this to me!” I scream furiously.
Everyone in the room—the nurse, Sandy, Liam, and Dr. Grey—are shocked into immobility for a moment until Dr. Grey whispers something to the nurse, who then leaves and comes back a short time later to, grab my arm, and quickly presses something against my neck. It hisses and I don’t even have time to turn my head before everything goes dark.
