Extracted

Gabriel

I’m more confused than ever. The dream was so real. Because it was real. I can’t make up this stuff that encompasses everything that is Jeremy. No way. My brother is not a fever dream. Whatever else has happened, whatever is going on with my body not looking like me, my life as AnnaLee happened. My brother happened.

For all I know, the illness scrambled my head so badly that I simply dreamed myself looking different. So maybe I never was blond or taller. The mind can play crazy tricks. I’d rather have what I believe I once looked like scrambled than lose all my memories.

I slide out of bed and head to the bathroom. When I get back, Cecelia’s gone. I guess she figures one day as helpful guide is sufficient.

I dress and grab up my tablet. Should I wear the gray track suit or the gray track suit? Decisions, decisions. Having only one choice of styles would send Mandy Hopkins into a hissy fit.

I clench the tablet hard. I’m not so certain anymore of my decision to talk with the director. What if he won’t let me contact my parents? What if he doesn’t believe I’m AnnaLee and not this Katherine they’ve mixed me up with? I need to find a way to call them on my own before I say anything. I don’t want them making it even harder if the director decides it’s not good for me to try. Or if he thinks it’s a side effect of the disease that I’ve conjured up fake memories.

I can’t give up on my little brother. I have to find out what’s happened to him no matter what they think. Even if they say he’s not real, I know he is. I’m not going to let him be therapied away.

I grab a glass of orange juice and a muffin and slide into my place at the table just as Cecelia finishes her bowl of oatmeal and then gets up to leave. Right. Nice talking to you, roomie.

Lawrence is there, his right arm held immobile to his chest with a red sling. It’s bright among all the gray.

Gideon’s quiet on his other side, picking at his own muffin. Harrison and Geoffrey haven’t come yet or have come and left early for classes like Cecelia. Though who would want to do that?

Lillian and Sterling both watch me eagerly.

“Good morning?” I say. It’s obvious they want to ask something.

Lillian glances at Sterling and licks her lips, before looking back to me. “Why did you do it?”

“Do what?”

“Go to help Sarah. She’s awful.”

“She wouldn’t know that,” Sterling points out. “She only woke up a day ago.”

“She’s a little girl. Her arm was broken. Lawrence wasn’t going to keep fighting her either. Why look at me?”

“My mistake.” He taps a finger on his sling.

“We’re not supposed to do that.” Lillian’s eyes dart toward one of the lunchroom monitors. “It doesn’t help with our rehabilitation from the illness. We have to learn to be strong on our own.”

“That doesn’t make any sense. People are stronger when they help each other. Like how the school is helping us. Where would we be if they didn’t take us in?”

Lillian’s dark brows draw together. “But it’s the director who tells us that. You’ll see.”