Short Story Exclusive ‘Quinn’s Dilemma’

It’s been a few crazy months over here! Mostly because I’ve been gone so much during the summer. Don’t get me wrong, I loved every bit of it, but it caused me to have to step away from writing. Now that summer has come to a close, I may return to my favorite passion: writing! Now, in the last blog post I promised a future update in which I would give you guys a short story. This is my peace offer for ‘The Broken Codex’ being pushed back again and again… and again. It’s still in the process of being written, I promise. Right now, it’s been taken hostage by other side projects. I won’t get too much into detail about all that, but I think you understand.

Anyway! I will begin to post more often as I continue to work on my projects and excitement grows to show you guys all the things I’ve been working on! But for now, I would like to present the short story that will be included at the end of ‘The Broken Codex’ when it comes out. Ladies and gentlemen… Quinn’s Dilemma.

Quinn’s Dilemma

My girlfriend.

The new words seemed a little bit different on my tongue. Grace and I had just made it official. I was on top of the world! I mean, we had liked each other for a really long time, and both knew it, but now it was definite, and I was the happiest guy around.

Grace. The girl guys flocked to and floundered over. The girl with the amber eyes and flowing brown hair and the smile that would make your heart stop in a millisecond. She was intelligent, driven and compassionate with a heart of pure gold. She was a balance of fun and seriousness, knowing what time was good for which.

I remember the first day I met her.

I had no clue that she was homeschooled. To me, that idea was foreign. Still, she was in my AP United States History class. It wasn’t till a lot later that I actually figured out that she was different. She seemed normal enough at first. She raised her hand for every question and was polite. She just… wasn’t like any girl I had ever met. That’s when I saw her eyes for the first time. It was almost as if the sun was bouncing off a flake of gold. Upon further inspection, I noticed her eyes were a beautiful amber color. Amber. Like the color of the sap that the insects my biology teacher had at the front of his class.

She squinted a little bit. Was I staring? I probably was. First impressions weren’t ever my thing anyway.

“A pencil?” she asked, smiling.

Pencil? What was she asking? I got lost in the endless smile of hers, trying so hard to process what had happened three seconds before.

“What?” I stuttered.

“You started asking me for something,” she laughed. Such a perfect laugh. As she flipped her hair over her shoulder, her face once again mellowed out into her small, subtle smile that I had grown to love in the few seconds I had seen it.  “So… a pencil?”

My mouth went dry. I remember. I had asked her for something just to get her attention. Now that I had it, I completely forgot what I was going to say.

“Um… no. Eraser?” I lied. I think I had a couple in my backpack. If not, my pencils probably had some tiny leftovers from the previous school year.

Grace milled around a little bit in her backpack before pulling out a little pink square of an eraser. Why we weren’t using the tablets that the district provided, I had no idea. Some teachers like my math teacher and chem teacher allowed us to use the tabs but some teachers just made us take the tests on paper. I guess it’s a lot less easy to hack. Didn’t they know that paper kills trees?

“Here’s your eraser.”

Spaced out again. I smiled a little bit before taking the eraser. I wasn’t shy but this girl stripped me to my core. Whatever was in that smile was worse than getting drunk two weeks in a row. I was losing my mind.

“Thanks.”

“No problem. Just… maybe bring your own next time?”

Grace turned back in her seat, her back to me. I shook my head, smiling. She was a piece of work. I was going to shoot back a sarcastic retort. I reached out to tap her shoulder when the teacher finally caught me.

“Mr. Davis. If you don’t mind, we’d all like to get out at the bell instead of waiting for you to finish flirting.” The class laughed at that. I slipped a little lower in my chair, my face burning red. I nodded.

The spectacle was over, and everyone turned forward, heads down, taking notes on the lecture. Notes with their graphite pencils and tree paper. Everyone but one amber-eyed girl a seat in front of me. Smirking over her shoulder, just enough for Mr. Grabel to miss it. She winks before turning to her work.

Depending on the person, that would’ve probably infuriated me. Coming from her though… something about it was cute and endearing in one way or another. It was hardcore flirting, but I was hooked. This girl was going to be mine if it killed me.

That I was determined to do.

That’s when she disappeared. I kid you not, this girl was wiped off the face of the earth. I asked around about her, but nobody had seemed to know who I was talking about. Had I been the only person in the world who had ever witnessed the amber-eyed brown-haired girl who smiled at me that day in class? I knew one thing for sure: she was real. At least, the eraser she gave me was real. I would pull it out every day and look at it, assuring myself that I wasn’t crazy.

Friday came and went, and we were finally in the weekend. At long last. I had time to relax and recoup. Maybe the amber-eyed girl had been a hallucination. After all, I could get any girl in school. Maybe I could settle for Olivia. Cheer captain? Not my type, but I could always test it out. Sounds fun.

Still… her laugh still rang through my head. Maybe she wasn’t completely fake. After all, Mr. Grabel had seen me ‘flirt’ with her, right? I didn’t know anymore.

Until Monday. There she was again. Flipping her hair and laughing with another guy across the room from me. Maybe the entire thing was just a game to her. Last Thursday was nothing. That was fine. Then we locked eyes, and I knew. The façade wasn’t all she was giving out.

“Hey! Hey, slow down.” I wasn’t out of breath, but trying to make it through of a steady stream of oncoming high schoolers winds you a little bit. The girl finally turned around on the stairs as I momentarily cornered her. “So… will I see you tomorrow mystery girl?”

She laughed. “You don’t know my name?”

“Of course not! I borrowed an eraser from you. That’s all I know. I bet you don’t even know mine.”

“Quinn Davis? I think I just might know your name. Mr. Grabel has said it a couple dozen times in class.” She smiled mischievously, her amber eyes sparkling with amusement. It was as if she held all the secrets of the universe in that moment. I couldn’t help but feel captivated by her presence. Of course she would know my name. I just couldn’t catch hers for the life of me.

“Well, mystery girl, it seems you have the upper hand,” I chuckled, trying to match her playful tone. “But now that you know my name, will you do me the honor of sharing yours?”

She paused for a moment, her smile widening. “It’s Grace. Grace Connor.”

Grace. The name suited her perfectly, just like everything else about her. It was simple yet elegant, just like her personality. Just like her smile.

“Grace,” I repeated, savoring the sound of her name. “It’s a pleasure to finally know the name that matches that captivating smile of yours.”

She blushed slightly, averting her gaze for a brief moment before meeting my eyes again. “The pleasure is all mine, Quinn.”

And that’s when I knew, I had caught little Miss Connor in my trap. She was going to fall for me. At least I hoped she would. I had to get her to fall for me, before I fell harder for her and did something completely and utterly stupid, like any other male of my race would.

“I gotta go…,” Grace said, smiling her small little smile I knew she smiled when she was too embarrassed to show it.

“I’ll walk you out,” I offered.

“It’s a public school. I think I’m okay.”

I eyed her. “Will I see you again?” She shook her head, smiling as she turned to walk down the stairs. I could tell she didn’t even know what this interaction had been. The other students gave me looks as they brushed against me. The sea of people began to separate me and her. “Is that a yes?” I called after her.

I saw Grace turn and look at me. The look on her face was either embarrassment or astonishment that I would actually yell after her in an ocean of my peers. “Maybe!” she answered, smiling again.

That interaction lasted me for the rest of the day, and the entirety of the next. The weirdest part was that I saw her again in the same class, that Wednesday. I walked into class, and I saw her, sitting there, a wide smile on her face. Oh man. Had she been waiting for me? I was pretty sure she was making eye contact with me, and nobody else coming through that door.

“Mr. Davis, you make a better door than a doorway. Will you let my students enter my classroom?”

I shook from my trance as Grace rolled her eyes, facing forward. I looked up to see Mr. Grabel, short and portly, hands on his hips, staring at me with that look that I’ve seen enough times to know what it meant. I nodded, slipping into a seat beside Grace.

“Davis, I trust you can control yourself today?” Mr. Grabel said, walking over to my desk, leaning over just so I could see every individual hair in his imperfectly groomed moustache.

“Your trust is well-based, sir.”

Mr. Grabel grunted like that was the biggest lie he had ever heard as he waddled back up to the front of the classroom. I looked at Grace, but the look on her face was neutral, faced forward and ready to learn. I guess I had to corner her after class again.

Believe me, I tried to corner her. She just disappeared! Again! This Grace girl was something else. I never knew what to expect from her. I went home and searched through old yearbooks and found no mention of her. As far as I was concerned, Grace Connor didn’t exist. Either that, or she had given me a false name. Either way, I was exhausted. How long could this girl keep me running?

I didn’t see her for the rest of the week. AP United States History came and went on Friday without even a glimpse of her. Nobody was even fazed. For the first twenty minutes I thought she had been late. Of course, a first time for everything, but that was fine. I’d tease her about it, but she’d come. Right?

Nope.

Finally, on Tuesday, I saw her again. Again, she smiled, like nothing had ever happened. If I really wanted anything to go forward, I had to make the anticipated first move. There was no way she could deny me! Right? Don’t answer that.

“Grace! Grace, hold up!” Again, this girl had tried to run out on me. This time though, I actually caught her.

“Hey, Quinn, I actually have to get home. See you Thursday?”

I completely ignored what she said. I looked her in the eyes, and then I completely blacked out, standing straight up.

When I came to again, I was still standing straight up, watching Grace Connor walk away from me, smiling at me over her shoulder. Was she… laughing? What happened? I looked down at my hand, where I clutched a paper that had ten little numbers with a little smiley face on the end.

Quinn Davis is the biggest flirt, but even he doesn’t know what he does. In fact, I will testify that I have no clue what I said or did during the two minutes I asked her out and got her number. But we had a date for that Saturday at 7:00. Butterflies fluttered in my chest. I was ecstatic. I think I might’ve jumped with delight right there in the hall.

Saturday couldn’t come fast enough. When it finally did, I was so nervous throughout the entire day. Part of me almost cancelled just so I wouldn’t mess up anything. The other part said that I’d be messing up by simply cancelling. So, I kept the date.

I picked Grace up exactly at seven. How did I get the timing down so well? That’s a secret I will always keep very closely. I actually sat down the street for thirty minutes before I actually picked her up. When I say I was nervous, I can’t describe how bad it actually was.

Not that I didn’t want to meet her family, but I really hoped a sibling, or a parent didn’t open the door to greet me. Did she even have siblings? I realized in that moment that I didn’t know too much about her. Hopefully this date would change a little bit of that.

The door opened and there was Grace, standing there, smiling in a cute little forest green sundress. She smiled her small, warm smile.

“Ready to go?” I asked.

“I’ve been ready all day long.”

I offered my arm to her which she graciously took as we walked down the steps. I heard the door open behind us, to which I turned to look who it was. Standing in the doorway was her father, arms crossed, though he was smiling.

“Have her home by eleven?” he called.

I gulped, nodding. “Yes, sir…”

He nodded again. “Have fun, dear.”

“Thanks, Dad,” Grace said, smiling.

It was all good and fun until the Dad got involved. I was sweating buckets. I prayed that Grace had fun, or else it would be my head on their front lawn, all pristine and manicured, like every single other one on the street.

I heard yelling from the backyard. Even though I couldn’t exactly tell what they were saying, I could tell two distinct voices apart. A girl and a boy. I caught a snippet of the conversation.

“Get over here, Amber!” the boy yelled, laughing.

“Jake, no!” the girl, Amber I figured, laughed. “Knock it off! Don’t wreck the castle! Jake!”

The kids continued to laugh and play. Grace laughed, glancing at the backyard. I guessed that was her siblings. They sounded like a lot of fun. A lot of fun that I didn’t want coming in the front yard and ruining this chance I had. Maybe I’d meet them another day. Today was not that day. Step one, then maybe step two.

I opened the door to car to let Grace in. She thanked me as she slid into my passenger seat. I shut the door behind her as I walked to the other side, wringing my hands. I sighed as I opened my door.

Quinn, don’t you dare mess this up.

One chance to make an impact. Let’s not mess this up. I slid into my car, pressed the button to start the car. The electricity hummed the car to life. I placed my hands on the wheel. The smart system in the car recognized the hand placement, and as I eased onto the gas, the car automatically shifted from park to drive, and we were off on a date that could make or break me.

When I got home, I plopped on the bed and sighed happily.

Somehow, in some strange way, she actually really liked me! This successful date spurred on second and third dates. Eventually, the line between hanging out and dating was blurred quite a bit.

One date is specifically called to mind when I think about my time with Grace. It was a hot summer day, and I had just gotten off work. Grace didn’t have a car, and mine was an older car, no self-driving assistance or air conditioning. She decided to walk all the way from her house to surprise me at work. The sight of her was better than any cool glass of water on that day. Frankly, we didn’t do much together. Just the fact that we were together, doing whatever made me happy. We ended up getting smoothies around the corner and talking under the shade of a tree.

This spiraled into me somehow getting the courage to ask her to be my girlfriend. Surprisingly, she said yes. I looked down at our interlaced fingers, her amber eyes scanning the lights of the town. I smiled as she snuggled into my shoulder, knowing she was very uncomfortable on the hood of my run-down car. That’s why I loved her. She didn’t care about the circumstances, just as long as love prevailed.

I felt her thumb begin to make small circles around my knuckles. Kissing the top of her head, I pulled her closer into me. The days had gotten a little bit cooler as the months began to slowly march toward winter. My jacket was already around her shoulders, leaving my arms exposed. Here in Wyoming when it got cold, it was cold. Truthfully though, if you asked if I was cold, I never would’ve told you yes.

Grace looked up at me smiling, the city lights bouncing off her amber eyes, almost giving them an aethereal glow. She was my angel. I knew what heaven was as she let go of my hand, reach up and cupping my face in her hand.

“I love you,” she whispered.

I knew she did. I knew this was a fact that would refuse to change, no matter what happened in the future.

My girlfriend. Grace Connor. The girl that boys flocked around. She was finally mine. Too bad fate likes the story of torn lovers.

Not a week after that night on the hood, the president of the United States declared that we were quarantined. Unless it was a member of your household, you were to remain inside and refrain from any contact whatsoever with the outside world.

Thank goodness for texting I guess.

I spent more time on my phone over the next couple weeks than ever before. I was constantly texting Grace, making sure she was okay. I prayed that she wouldn’t contract this awful virus everyone was talking about. After some online research I realized that ‘mori’ in Latin meant ‘to die’. So basically this publicized Morivirus was a lab-created death virus. How nice.

In this awful quarantine, I did a little bit of deep digging into the political leaders. School is great if you’re actually interested in the subject, but for me, US History was boring. Suddenly, with so much government controversy, and suggestions into biological warfare, Modern History and Biology seemed to take a lot more precedence in my life.

One name that seemed to take a lot of precedence on online forums was ‘Josiah Yang’. A curious name indeed. With Asian-Latino roots, Yang was a politician that seemed to have a lot of pull on several different organizations. The thing was, I couldn’t find that much on him. Yes, his name was everywhere, but he didn’t have any social medias, personal platforms, or affiliations. He was an online ghost. Without the proof of thousands of pictures and blogs about him, I would’ve thought he was a fictional character.

The biggest thing that confused me was ‘The Council’ that Yang was a part of. Again, much like Yang, the Council was very revered, highly successful, but without any direct mention of what they do. This made me more curious than ever.

Good evening, darling.

My phone buzzed with the text from Grace. I smiled, taking time to respond.

Good evening to yourself. How’s isolation?

Grace shot back with: Such a party. My brothers have taken to flicking quarters at each other.

I responded with a quick laughing emoji. My gaze faded back up to the computer screen. The picture of Josiah Yang glared back at me, a dapper suit on, grinning at a crowd of reporters, his hand up in greeting. The charisma almost bled through the screen.

No videos, no audio. Just pictures. How does this happen? How could someone possibly be so public, yet so secret?

I decided to do another deep dive on the Morivirus. Again, article after article stared back of theories. Some said that it was a Chinese bioweapon that was targeted to end humanity in the States and only they had the cure. Others said that it might be an accidental new fungus from mushrooms. That one had gotten less traction than the bioweapon theory. Everyone had different ideas. I had a great idea of my own.

I would sleep on it.

Waking up, I had five new texts from Grace.

Len hit Jake in the forehead with a quarter. He’s good at this.

I’m missing you a lot.

I love you dearest.

Talk to you tomorrow.

Goodnight.

I sighed, swinging my legs over the side of the bed. I sent off a quick good morning text before tossing my phone back on the bed. It would be an hour or so before Grace saw it. I woke up a lot earlier than her. That gave me time to scroll through the internet in search of answers.

After another hour of scrolling hopelessly, I figured that the government wasn’t giving out any answers anytime soon. I decided I click on a few more links, just in case. The first link I clicked on took me to an odd truth-finders site. This forum was designed to expose truth in the world. As of late, they were discussing the Morivirus pandemic. Most comments were blowing steam, ranting endlessly about the virus. But there were some who seemed to know what they were talking about.

I joined under the name ‘Davi’, hoping not to raise too much suspicion. I asked only one question. Where did the virus come from? After that, I waited. I scrolled through the forum a little more, then just got lost on videos.

Later, there was a pinging sound from my desk. I looked down at my phone. There wasn’t a single notification. That was odd. I looked up at my computer screen. There was a message waiting for me. A message from… the forum? Opening it, I cautiously looked at the sender’s name. All that was displayed was the username ‘John’.

                  To: Davi.truthseekerforum

                  From: John.truthseekerforum

And ye shall know the truth, and the truth shall make you free. John 8:32.
Respond ‘yes’ to this message to be freed. Note that the truth may cause pain, suffering, though the inevitable freedom is guaranteed.

Honestly, I had no idea what this was supposed to mean. I guessed it was some bored guy scrolling through forums and pranking random people. So of course, bored myself, I messaged him back with one simple word.

Yes.

My eyes were tired, and I really needed some fresh air. I closed my computer, walking outside my room and into the fresh air outside my house. I chuckled to myself, thinking how crazy it was that I turned eighteen the next year. I could buy my own house. Grace could be more than my girlfriend! She could be my wife! That is, if this entire Morivirus thing calmed down and everything. I could be standing there, in a yard all my own, the grass belonging to someone other than my aunt and uncle. I closed my eyes and imagined.

Among the turmoil of the world I dreamed.

I was shaken from it as the electric screen door open and my overprotective aunt stepped out. My parents hadn’t been around much as a kid, so after they split up, I went to live with my aunt and uncle. They were the best guardians I could ever ask for, but they tried to recoup for the loss of my parents by being a little more hovering than I would’ve liked.

“Quinn, darling!” my aunt crowed. “Don’t you know that there’s a virus on the loose!”

She made the Morivirus sound like a pack of rabid dogs.

“I know, Aunt Karla!” I said. “I just needed some fresh air.”

Aunt Karla smiled. “Don’t we all. Well, don’t stay out too long. We don’t want More-dy virus tracked in the house.”

I chuckled to myself as Aunt Karla went back inside the house. I stared up at the gloomy sky, the grays and the darker grays swirling in dark, smeary blobs across the sky. It was like a painter had forgotten colors existed.

I went back inside the house. I ate dinner with my aunt and uncle. After cleaning up, we played board games. Heading off to bed, I checked my computer one last time. There was another message from ‘John’. This time my computer had a hard time processing the request. ‘John’ had sent quite an attachment. I wondered how long it took to send. I finally opened the link, and I realized I wasn’t going to sleep that night.

Files, all of them seemed to have been scanned in a hurry. I wasn’t supposed to be seeing this. I thought back to what John had said at the very beginning. ‘The truth shall make you free.’ I was now realizing what the price of freedom had to be.

As I was looking through the files John had sent, the computer pinged once more. Another message, again from John… whoever that was.

To: Davi.truthseekerforum

                  From: John.truthseekerforum

Peace I leave with you, my peace I give unto you. John 14:27

That was it? Out of the three messages, I knew this sent the most ominous undertext. This was not something I should even be seeing. The instant I laid eyes on the attachment, I should’ve deleted the message and blocked John. But something in me still wanted to be free. I had been searching endlessly for the freedom John had given me. Now I just had to partake. The consequences were unclear, but it’s that the way with most freedom? I opened the attachment again. I took a deep breath as my finger hovered over the screen.

Then, I pushed print.

A couple weeks later, the power had gone out. It was blamed on natural disasters, but honestly it was convenient timing anyways. My computer was dead, and I was trying to use my phone as little as possible. Communications with Grace were rare, though we agreed we would sacrifice a little phone battery every week to catch up. That was the only thing that kept me going. That and the files.

I had pored over the papers I had printed. It was all there. Minutes of the Council meetings, designs of the virus, reports to who knows who, and so much more. The truth had truly set me free. Now I just had to figure out who to tell.

Another curious name kept popping up in the reports. Frank Connor. Of course, I never once thought Grace had anything to do with the creation of the virus, but I was curious about the connection of the last names. I was probably just grasping at straws because of lack of sleep.

One night, while trying to sleep, I rolled back and forth on my bed, the sheets already on the floor. I was so sick of the weird feeling in the pit of my stomach sticking around in my body. Nothing had happened! At this point, I doubted anything would.

Then, I heard the crash. My aunt and uncle had a guest room that they kept empty for family or friends that came into town. That room shared a wall with me, the wall which all my computer supplies were situated against. That was the wall the crash came from. Part of me wanted to go investigate, but I knew it was smarter to pretend to sleep. So that’s what I did.

I prayed the door wouldn’t open. Lo and behold, ten minutes later, my door creaked open. Uncle Mark had tried to fix the squeak several times, but nothing stopped that door from squeaking as loud as possible. It had annoyed me for years, but tonight it might save me.

I heard the person ruffling through the things on my desk. I never liked baseball, but in this moment I wished I had a baseball bat in my room. The only thing within my grasp was a large hardcover textbook. I reached my fingers out, barely being able to grab it. I took a deep breath before I jumped from my bed, lashing out with the textbook, slamming into the intruder. Moonlight glinted off of white scales. This wasn’t any thief. Whoever this was had armor, and was heavily armed. Arms wrapped around my throat. There were more.

The one that I had hit with my book stood up straight, the dark mask reflecting my scared and unshaven face. “Where did you get this?” he… I’m guessing it was a guy, said, holding up the papers from John.

“I… I don’t know!” I stammered, trying to force out my breath. I grabbed at the arm around my neck, squeezing off my airway. “Someone named John online sent it to me!”

“An alias,” the soldier holding me mumbled.

“Take him,” the one holding the papers demanded.

“What?” I yelled. I wasn’t understanding what was happening. I didn’t have time to fully comprehend before I was hit over the head, and I blacked out.

When I finally came to, I was in the back of a moving vehicle, strapped down with an IV in my arm. I struggled to move to no avail. I looked up, and there he was. The soldier with the papers. He was sitting on a bench attached to the wall of the vehicle. He was staring down at the papers, his mask removed. I made a little sound in my throat, causing him to look at me. He had close-cropped hair, and glaring eyes, two different colors. One was brown, the other milky white.

“Relax, kid,” he said, a soothing tone taking over his voice. “Try not to remember this too hard.”

“What… what do you mean?” I asked groggily. I felt like my thoughts were trying to vie for my attention all at once. Thinking was like wading through a marsh.

The soldier waved the papers. “John hid his IP address well. You, on the other hand, did not. We’ll catch the beloved apostle yet. As for you, we can’t have this getting out.”

“So you’ll kill me.”

Milky-Eye looked as if he was considering it for a second before shaking his head, no. “Not yet. Maybe one day, but apparently a guy higher up has a bigger purpose for you.”

“Why are you telling me this?” I slurred.

Milky-Eye stood up, checking the level of fluid in my IV bag. With trouble, I slowly followed his motions with my eyes. He smiled down at me.

“Because you won’t remember it tomorrow.”

I gasped. “This is a dream!”

He sighed. “No. You’re a test. Yang is curious to see how real-life subjects fare to the temporary erasing of memories.”

Yang. Yang. Where had I heard that name before? Was it a cousin? A friend? Maybe it was my son. Was I old enough to have a son?

Then I remembered. Yang was the one who started the virus. I needed to stop him! John was trying to help me stop Yang. But Milky-Eye now had all the documents. And I was slowly forgetting everything.

“Yang is stupid,” I mumbled as clearly as my drugged state could.

Milky-Eye twisted a knob on my IV. The last thing I remember is him leaning down over me. I could smell the scent of beef jerky on his breath. I recoiled as best I could, tied down in the bed. He smiled before saying, “I couldn’t agree more.” Then, for the second time that day, I blacked out.

Who am I?

Lights.

Red.

Blood.

My memories had vanished. I didn’t know how I knew this, but somehow I knew. I didn’t remember losing them, nor do I remember anyone stealing them. I just remember the bright lights as I awoke. Functions were normal, but memories were missing. My first kiss. I had one, but with who? I held her hand, but who was she?

I stood from a thin mat of cardboard. There was a single bare bulb lighting the four concrete walls I was trapped in. I didn’t know where I was or how long I had been asleep. The basement had a confining, musty smell. I knew I had to get out of here. But first, I rack my mind for anything worthwhile.

I don’t know my name. I don’t know my past. There is only one thing that remains. Whoever erased my mind left it as a piece of the puzzle that is my life. They left it as an objective. Maybe if I find that thing, I can figure out who I was. But this thing that’s left isn’t a name or a place. It’s a face. It her face.

Memory lends me one more thing. It breaks through my programming. It’s almost as if I can see clearly now. For a split second I am given the name. This is a name I hold on to for a minute before I let it go once more. One name. One face. One goal.

Grace.