Twenty Years Later

Prologue:

2015

“Jamie, are you sure you want to do this?” Kyle stressed, frantically grabbing my arm. Red lights from moving equipment blinked around me, and sirens blasted. A scraping sound rose above the other sounds, and I glanced away from Kyle watching as the long tube that sealed my fate slid out of the wall. Kyle bit his bottom lip, something he always did to keep from crying. “I know I’ve said this a million times but...Jamie, I don’t want you to do this!” his eyes were wide; he looked like he was going crazy. I searched the deep blue eyes, to find the calm pillar that I always relied on.

“Kyle, I have to do this! It’s not an option. Besides, we’re ninety-nine percent sure this will work, right?” I stretched up on my toes and kissed his cheek, and grabbed his worried face. “I’m doing this for the sake of science! Please Kyle, we’ve been through this!” Teens in lab coats rushed around us, checking that everything was perfect, that there won’t be any mistakes.

Kyle rubbed his hands up and down my arms, and pulled me close. I breathed in his scent of pine and mint, reminding me of the year that we had been together. I reminisced all the times we spent by the lake, and leaned my head against his chest, wishing for those days to come back. He rested his chin on the top of my head, “I don’t want to lose you. I mean....what if-what if you forget me?” he questioned gulping in deep breaths of air.

“Kyle, no matter what happens I don’t think I could ever forget you! This can save millions of lives. I volunteered, I can’t just back out now,” my heart ached as he smiled sadly. He let go of me and pulled out a needle.

“Just in case,” he whispered, as he bent over and pulled my arm out, gently pushing up the sleeves of my denim jacket. I watched closely as he carefully wrote, I am Jamie, in an olive green ink. He strapped a white bandage over it. Then he paused, “Please don’t forget me,” he said, looking down, tears threatening. I grabbed his face again.

“Kyle, even if I forget myself, I could never forget you!” I reached up and kissed him, tears pouring down both our faces, as if it was the last time that we would ever be together.

“Jamie,” Professor Milwaukee said gently, grabbing my shoulder, “It’s time,” I walked away, glancing back over my shaking shoulders, and I jerked my head back, furiously wiping my face. I was guided into the sterile room. Steel walls surrounded me on all sides. I couldn’t see out, but they could see in. Four senior classmates stood, waiting for me, needles in their hands. My best friend Christina turned around, gloves and masks covering her face. The five started at me, and Christina motioned me to the tube. I took a step forward, and the top of the tube popped open.

I slowly laid down on my back and they stepped forward, the five needles at the ready. I swallowed, I couldn’t hear, I felt as though I was underwater, time seemed to slow as the needles were injected into my neck. I vaguely heard Kyle Shouting. Suddenly my body stiffened.

Time traveled backwards. I saw Kyle’s tear streaked face as he tattooed my wrist. I watched my mom give me my fifteenth birthday present, the new updated PC I had asked for. I saw my grandpa’s death, I saw the day my dad got drunk and he hit my mom. Every single memory flitted before my eyes in a matter of seconds. I felt my throat go dry, and I realized I was screaming. I watched my two year old self falling into a rose bush, and then my mind went blank.

“Something’s wrong....JAMIE! .... What’s going on?” Tiny snippets of conversation filled my ears and silently drifted into nothingness.

Chapter One

2035

My eyes hurt, my skin felt dry, and my stomach was growling in hunger. I pushed my body with my arms; they were shaking so badly, I felt like there was an earthquake. I reached up for my head; there was a huge pounding in it. My eyes blurred as the sterile images floated in and out of focus. Faded white sheets draped over the walls, giving the room a strange glow. I turned to glance behind me, and felt a sharp stab of pain in my neck. I reached up and felt the dry scabs on my neck.

I swung my legs down on the floor. I was lying in an open tube. I watched my gray sneakers hit the ground and muscle memory moved my legs of their own will. I walked out of the room, my fingers brushing the thin sheets with my fingertips. I looked around, ignoring the pain in my neck, at my unfamiliar surroundings.

I started as I saw a person standing, glancing up at the ceiling, hands in the pocket of his dress suit. I watched him draw a hand through thinning brown hair. He’s so lonely. I thought, and for some reason I felt really sad. My chest started contracting and I couldn’t hold back a painful series of barking coughs.

He started turning around. I couldn’t help think that I had never seen a more sad man in my life. “Jamie?” a soft voice asked disbelievingly, “Jamie? Is it you? No, no, it’s a ghost Ky, it’s a ghost, she’s gone, she’s always been gone...” I looked around to see who he was talking to, but I was no one. The middle aged man smiled quietly, and turned to leave.

“Who are you?” I asked, but it didn’t sound like my voice. It was a stranger’s, it was raspy and quiet, and not at all like mine. He looked over sharply.

“Did you....” he shook his head and turned around again, and then turned back, “Come here,” he said, and obediently I walked forward. “Can I....can I touch you?” He asked and I nodded. I couldn’t explain it, but I felt like I could trust this man. Course hands touched my face, my neck, and my hands. “What’s your name?” He sounded so vulnerable; I couldn’t help feel like I had hurt this guy incredibly.

“My name?” I finally asked, “I....I don’t know....” he looked deep into my eyes. Suddenly his phone rang.

“Yes?” he asked, glancing at me, “Yeah, yeah, I’ll be right there,” I reached forward and touched his face. I recognized this as strange behavior, but I couldn’t seem to stop myself.

“Who is Jamie?” The guy looked beyond my head, and exhaled loudly through his nose.

“It was someone that I loved very much.” I looked into his creased eyes, there were so many wrinkles. Something had put this man through hell. I shifted my eyes as a boy walked in the door. He vaguely looked like the man in front of me. His face had the same features, and the same eyes, but his hair was jet black, and unkempt. I indistinctly cocked my head, filled with curiosity.

“Dad, who is this?” He asked, a hint of a threat in his voice, and I backed away, slowly, like a trapped animal.

“Jamie-Jamie, don’t be afraid,” the man said.

“Who is Jamie?” the boy and I asked at the same time. I looked at him for a moment, but his eyes were trained on his father. I studied him; he looked so different from his father. His leather jacket, his dirty high tops, they didn’t match the man in front of me.

I searched the room more carefully. There were skywalks, pillars, and mainly a lot of space. I seemed so empty, like something was missing. I couldn’t explain the feeling, but I knew that there was supposed to be more things here, more people, more noise, and more laughter.

“Train, let’s go,” I saw the boy respond to the call,

“Train....is that your name?” the boy looked over sharply,

“Yeah, yeah it is. You got a problem?”

“It’s strange,” I said,

“As strange as not knowing your name?” he shot back.

“Train-let’s go!” he dad stressed, glancing at me, he seemed afraid now.

“I know it....I just forgot,” Train raised an eyebrow. His dad cut in before he could speak,

“Let’s go Train,” I looked at the man,

“What is your name?” I asked,

“Kyle,” he said, “Kyle Thomas,”

“Cool name,” I said. He looked straight into my eyes. I couldn’t explain the butterflies in my stomach, and I didn’t understand why my heart sped up.

“Yeah, I know, you’ve told me before.” Now this man was just confusing me. I watched him turn, hands back in his pockets.

“Dad, dad!” Train said, “We shouldn’t leave her here....she doesn’t seem....”

“She’s fine,” he growled, walking away. Train turned, and hooked his thumbs in his belt loop,

“Look, just-stay here okay?” he requested, exasperatedly, “Just....don’t go anywhere.” He ran after his dad as I sat down. I looked down at my hands, and then searched my arms, as if I had an answer. I pushed up my sleeves and looked at my pale wrists. I am Jamie, was written in looping cursive.

* **

I sat on a table, after throwing a sheet on the ground. I waited for a few hours. The door opened and Train walked in, flashlight in hand. “Jamie,” he whispered fervently, “Jamie!”

“Hello,” I said, “What are you doing?” I watched as he strolled over to me. He let off a poof of relief and sat down next to me.

“Are there any lights in here?” He popped back up and looked at the wall.

“What is this?!” he strained, sounding vaguely insulted.

“What-a light switch?” I asked and flicked it on. Light filled the large room.

“I know what it is! Nobody uses light switches anymore! Didn’t you know that?” I opened my mouth, but all I said was,

“I don’t know,”

“You don’t know a lot of things. And that reminds me...what are you doing here? Who are you? How does my dad know you?”

“I don’t know, I don’t know anything,” I felt strangely depressed, like I had missed out on everything. My feet played with the tiles and tears popped into my eyes.

“Hey, don’t cry,” Train said awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck. “Look, I’ve got a deal for you; I’ll try to find out as much as I can about your past, if you do my homework. I have a feeling you can do it,” he held out his hand. I stared at it, the creases and lines in the hand made it seem older, wiser, and somehow more real. “You shake it, you know, to seal a deal kind of thing,” I looked up into his eyes,

“I know.”

Chapter Two

I spent the night in the building, wrapped up in a thin sheet that had been covering a plush sofa. I woke early the next morning, as sunlight peeped through the dusty curtains. I stretched and my stomach growled. I frowned down at it, as if it could see my expression.

Train had said he be back around noon, his lunch break, and that we would begin to make the room more liveable. I looked at a clock on the walls, but it had been a long time since that thing clicked. I looked up at the sun, it’s eight, popped into my head. I began to wonder how I knew that, but my head began to pound, so I quit.

I decided to search the room a little. I walked quietly, gray sneakers making intrusive squeaks on the linoleum floor. I checked heavily locked doors, but all of them needed a key. I turned around and took an inventory of the room. There were skywalks, but the stairs must have been in the other room. There were several objects covered with white sheets. I uncovered each one, but they all uncovered the same things. There were several tables and chairs, there were also many sofas and strangely, a bean-bag chair. Several sheets have been stitched together to cover a mini-café.

I folded all the sheets in a large pile, save one, which I used to dust the whole room. At twelve the door slid open, and Train sneaked inside. I opened my mouth to greet him, but he made a shushing motion with his finger. He waited for a while then relaxed into a plastic chair.

He looked up at me, “Hey!” he said, and gave a little wave with his hand before slouching back, kicking his feet up on the table.

“Who were you running from?” I asked, noting that his jacket was torn,

“Just some smart-a-” he cut himself off, “Just bullies, you know, smart kids, who like to pick on dumb kids like me,” he smiled, “Came at me with a knife this time, lucky I run fast,” he grinned, “Hey, this could be my new hide out! Before it was Dewey Drive, no one goes there, unless, you know, you’re running from rich kids,” I laughed without thinking, and he gave me a strange look. He glanced around the room, “Someone’s been busy,” he remarked, “This room is spotless!”

“Not much else to do around here is there?” I asked, and Train smiled, jumping up,

“Don’t worry-I’ll fix that!” he smiled and plopped a stack of books and papers, “Do this!” he grinned, “Oh, and we have to disguise you!” I cocked an eyebrow,

“Disguise me?” I asked, he shrugged, looking a little embarrassed,

“Well yeah, I mean, my dad almost had a heart attack when he saw you, and how should I put this, you’re a little, well, out of fashion,” I felt my face heat up,

“Don’t blame me-it’s been twenty years!” I said. A sharp pain ran through my veins, and I winced as it reached my head. I cried out involuntarily, as I staggered back.

“Whoa,” Train said, grabbing my elbow to steady me, “Easy girl,” he eyebrows were creased, and he looked deep in thought. I sat down, and he leaned in closer, as if the answers were written in my eyes. “Okay, we’ll worry about disguises later,” he said gently, “Just....Stay here,” he grabbed his phone out of his pocket, “I got to go!” he said. He tossed me a paper bag, and said, “Hope you’re hungry,” I watched his back leave, and my hand moved slowly to my pounding head.

Train came back the next day, and the day after. He would give me his trigonometry homework and a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, cut into triangles on white bread. Everyday was the same story, except sometimes with Chemistry or Biology. The answers always just popped into my head, I couldn’t explain how to do the problems, but as soon as my pencil touched the paper the answers would string out it complicated equations.

There had been about five days of this, when I finally asked, “Have you found anything out about me yet?” Train was lying on the ground, tossing a ball the same deep shade as his eyes up and down, and up and down. He suddenly sat up, and looked at me.

“I’ve been trying, I promise, but it’s been pretty hard to find information about you, especially when you don’t even know your own name.” He paused, “I do have an idea though,” he said. “Tomorrow is Saturday, so I’ll bring you some, um, modern clothes so that you don’t um, stand out so much. And we’ll walk around town and see if you remember anything.”

I couldn’t explain it, but I suddenly felt nervous. Could I really go out in the world? I was a little out of touch, what if I mess up or do something awful? I didn’t tell Train these worries though, I simply finished the last homework problem and handed it to him. “That sounds perfect, thanks.”


Chapter Three