What Makes Us Human?

Chapter 2

Diane and I manage to find a seat together in the crowded auditorium. The Diane that hugged me just minutes ago is gone. She has a serious expression now. Tapping her foot as her cold light brown eyes skim the room. One by one, kids go into the Evaluation room, some coming out in tears. One girl, Tina Lambert, the most popular student in school, came out bawling. Diane smirked a bit, giving me a look. "Stop it," I mouth.

Tina notices the smart remarks and quickly heads out of the auditorium. Poor girl, I think, maybe this is important to her, too.

It's been about an hour and I'm half asleep. "Diane Mitchell. Diane. Mitchell." I jump, startled. We have a conversation with our eyes as she gets up.

This is happening.
Yeah, you ready.
No.
I know.

I touch her hand as she walks to the front of the auditorium and whisper under my breath the words on the paper. There is the Diane I want to remember after the Procedure.

It's a 1.25% I will. As much as I want to remember, if I fall into that 1.25% , relocation is the only option. I'll have to forget my sister and my mother.

"If you have any unwanted memories, you'll forget them after the procedure. There is a 60% chance that you will lose memory of important events and or people, it will come back in 7-14 days or it becomes permanent"

At least I won't be haunted by their memory. Sometimes I have dreams of my mother. She had a glowing gold crown and these beautiful white wings. "Olga, I love you." Then she left. Flew away.

"Hey, Auggie," Diane tapped my shoulder. I smiled and hugged her briefly, making sure no one was looking.

"Public affection is not only illegal, but wrong."

"How'd it go," I ask, not even waiting for her to sit down. She shrugs, "There was no pressure," she scoffs and looks around, "Even though it seems to be, but I did pretty... Okay?"

I hold her hand, "I'm sure you did great, Ane."

"Olga McCormick. Olga. McCormick."

My heart starts to race and a bead of swear trickles down my forehead. Diane squeezes my hand a bit and her eyes seem pitiful.

You ready?
No.
Good.

I weakly smile and drag me feet to the front as the Evaluator in charge ushers me into the room.