Chapter Text
Your first memory is stepping out of bright colorful warmth into the dark. It feels awful, you try to get back into the beautiful place you’ve been sleeping but it won’t let you back. You fidget and your foot slips onto a rock. It’s rough and it hurts and you’re cold and you start crying – when you hear a familiar voice in your head - “it’s okay!”
Then a girl gives you a hug.
The tall, dark-haired boy smiles at you and pats your shoulder. He is scared too, but he tries to make you feel better. It’s annoying. What does he know that you don’t? Like you, the girl is crying but she still hugs you and that helps. The boy nods at you and you hear him in your mind. “Let's find help.”
You cling tightly to each other as you walk away from the bright warm pods and out into the darkness.
Everything is scary here. There are strange noises, strange sounds. You hold each other’s hands tightly because you’re all any of you have. You walk. On and on and soon there is more cold, but less darkness. You can start to see shadows taking shape.
The boy points towards weird lights floating in the distance.
“Help?” he thinks at you and you realize he’s asking your opinion. You nod – but the girl is afraid. “Are you okay?” you think at her and she nods quickly. "It's all so strange."
You head for the floating lights. The shadows around take shape as rocks and plants, and finally, large pillars that hold lights. Up in front of you, there’s a metallic stick with a flat metallic triangle attached.
It is a color – yellow – and there is writing on it. You let go of your friends and walk over to it, curiosity overriding fear.
It's the first bright color you've seen since you left the pods.
There is loud honk and a sharp screech. You flinch and wave the danger away but there is a loud crumpling sound. The pole is crushed. You're sad-you only wanted to look at it. Then you hear a panicked shout in your mind – “he’s hurt!”
You turn to look and the other boy is climbing onto a large vehicle that has skidded to a stop behind you. There is a big person inside, but he isn't awake and you can tell by the way his head is tilted he must have hit it against something.
The other boy sits with the man, holding his hand and you heard a loud hum. You look at the girl and looks more concerned than you. She shuts her eyes and concentrates and the hum increases.
The big person twitches and sits up. He looks at the other boy who has collapsed beside him, concerned.
“Hey, little fella, what are you doing out here, all naked? Did some pervert take you?” The man speaks with his mouth and it is loud, almost offensive to you. He looks at your friend concerned, he is doubly so when the boy points to you and the girl.
“Jesus – “The man shakes his head. He pulls off his own shirt and puts it on the girl.
“We gotta get you kids safe.” He reaches into the back of the truck and comes out with a jacket for the boy and a blanket for you. He helps you all into the front seat of his truck and he puts it in gear. It grinds a little but then you’re on your way.
The man stops to buy you all juice and something he calls Cheetos (“you kids are probably starving,”) he buys a few other things too. One of them is a bottle with a delicious smelling liquid and you know, you just know deep in your bones, that if the other boy drinks it, he will feel a lot better. You take the bottle and open it, getting ready to pour it into the other boy’s mouth when the man – the “Trucker” everyone calls him later – grabs it back from you.
“Hey kid, are you crazy? That nail polish remover is for my wife. It will kill your friend” You yell at the man that he is stupid, that the delicious drink will only make your friend stronger – but of course, he doesn’t hear you.
He's so loud with his talking mouth that he can only listen with his ears and it looks like everyone on this stupid planet does the same thing. It’s so tiring and it’s so noisy you sleep from sheer exhaustion. You sleep until you pull into a "police station". The man you meet there, “the Sheriff” is suspicious at first but the Trucker gives them his home phone number and they call his wife.
People try to talk to you, the other boy and the girl but give up.
They send you all to a nice home, a lady from the police station who says that all her children are grown and away. She’s happy to sit for you. She feeds you all and gives you clothes and gives you each a room.
You get “Sherri’s room” and you like it. The lady is apologetic about all the ruffles and ribbons but you like it – it’s pretty and colorful like your pod and you find two bottles of that delicious drink in the drawer. You run over to the room with the other boy – you’re not upset that he gets the big room but you are upset that the girl was already there, tucked under the covers. You feel left out but the boy smiles and flicks the covers open on the other side. You crawl in and proudly offer your treats.
You give the boy the first drink. He needs it. He’s tired. Whatever he did to help the man wore him out. You make him drink the whole bottle and you split the other bottle with the girl. She insists that you drink first. You realize then that you’re tired, yourself. You drink precisely half and give the rest to her.
One night stretches into a week.
You like staying with the nice lady from the Police station. You all want to stay longer, but the courts won’t let you. She isn’t a licensed foster care provider (whatever that means) and it will take too much time for her to become one.
The court decides to send you to a group home. Before you go, she sits you all down and helps you pick names. The other boy chooses first - he takes Max, the name of her late husband.. The girl goes next - she chooses Isabel, the lady's name. All the good names are gone and you feel sad until the lady suggests Michael, who was her oldest son. She tells you he died a great hero, sacrificing for the country. She says your stubbornness reminds her of him. For some reason this makes you laugh and you take his name, gratefully.
The day you leave, you all cry until the lady from the new home makes fun of you. “What are you crybabies? We’ve got a bunch of crybabies, John.” The driver looks sympathetically at you over his shoulder but the woman only rolls her eyes.
Her name is Mrs. Long, and she has a daughter a little older than you and a son a little younger. She tells you that neither is a crybaby. She isn’t mean precisely, but she makes you feel shame.
You don’t like Mrs. Long.
They separate you in the home, and you hate it. They send you in classes to learn to speak but you don’t want to. Max pleads with you, “Come on Michael. They’re only trying to help us.” But you don’t trust them. These people are stupid. There are a lot of very simple things wrong around the group home, broken viewer, bad lighting but when you tried to fix them the woman – Mrs. Long - said you were a trouble-maker and sent you to stand in the corner.
And it’s so loud, they’re all so loud with their noisy voices. Why can’t these stupid people communicate the right way? It’s so much easier.
You finally speak the day they take Max and Izzy away.
“No” you shout as the smiling people walk them down the hall away from you. “No!” you shout again, tears flowing. You want to crush everything. <i> I’m gonna crush everything!</i> you think as the building begins to shake but Max shakes his head. “No!” he thinks “Don’t Michael! Be good and we will find you. We will always find you.” He promises.
Isobel looks back at you, tears in her eyes. Mr. and Mrs. Evans have given them both a new stuffed toy – Izzy looks at her new mother, pleading and the kindly woman nods as she runs back to you, hugs you and gives you her stuffed toy. You watch blinded by tears as they drive off.
Mrs. Long is surprisingly friendly. “There you go, she gave you that nice toy! You’re gonna be fine.” She chides gently.
She puts you to bed early and you cry all night.
It’s your fault, you know it. There has always been something different, something wrong with you and apparently, it was obvious because Mr. and Mrs. Evans didn’t take you too.
When Mrs. Long comes to get you in the morning, you’re still sad. Tear-stained face and blotchy and she sighs.
“Oh come on kid” She ruffles your hair. “They’re not really your family anyway, are they? Not with these thick curls of yours.“ She means to be kind, you know this – but when she steps away to wake the rest of the house up, you find scissors and shear off all your hair.
Mrs. Long takes your toy away and makes you stand in the corner for the entire day.