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Chapter 10 My first instinct was to hide underneath the covers and remain there. Ashley's absence was potentially disastrous because like the night light, she was the anchor that kept me from drifting toward surrender. It would be so easy to accept my fate, to accept being Kaylee- the same way I left everything else, the restaurant, acting, Hannah- it was easier than having to deal with any of the emotions that went along with it. As Musica prattled on, urging me to get out of bed, my mind waffled back and forth between submission and outright defiance. A part of me desperately wanted to prove that Dr. Travers' serum was a failure, that Ryan Sullivan would never become weak-willed, timid Kaylee. When he saw the defiance in me, the failure of his masterwork, would he show emotion? Would his face sag, his shoulders slump in defeat? I vacillated between the two mindsets, as Ashley's voice played in an endless loop. "You aren't a failure. Because you haven't ever even tried." To Ashley, trying meant actually dealing with the breadth of emotions that accompanied difficult choices. I managed to pull myself from the warm embrace of my covers, quickly tearing them off and depositing my socked feet on the floor. I poured myself a bowl of cereal, and then visited the washroom. By the time I was finished, the superstar makeover closet had moved, again revealing the exit to this room, but only to the rest of what was an elaborate prison. I wasn't sure that Ms. Daniels could be trusted. Would she really allow me to keep my memories if I continued to play Kaylee on the show? She had earlier teased by telling us that we could be stars beyond the Hermie show, but that was before we learned the exact details of their insane plot. I went over different options in my head, one of which involved returning to my phone trying to find a signal and calling the police. Maybe they could force Dr. Travers to undo the changes, to flick off the supposed switch that had sent me spiralling into prepubescent femininity. That, however, would require me to brave the dark again. I kept telling myself that I wasn't afraid of the dark- that nothing in there could hurt me. There were no beasts, creatures wanting to rend me limb from limb, just filing cabinets, tables, chairs and my phone. I went through the motions as Kaylee that day, simply playing my part. All of the scenes with Ashley were put on hold, but there were plenty with just Kaylee and Hermie. While Hermie played his part, I noticed a distinct sadness in his voice. I also noticed plenty of chatter in his head. There were two separate voices, but the thick rubber head piece muffled the words. It was as if two people were having a conversation with their hands over their mouths. Still, despite this, filming continued. Two days later, Ashley still hadn't returned, and I still hadn't managed to find the courage to return to the storage room. I realized how instrumental Ashley had been in prodding me to explore. The only saving grace was the fact that I didn't need the night light to sleep, but only barely. "You're fucking dead, man! I got you around the corner. You aren't playing fair." It was day three without Ashley, and I was sitting quietly in the cafeteria. Devon and Mark had burst into the room, wielding plastic guns that looked surprisingly real. The only obvious difference between the AR-15s they carried and the real kind was a small piece of orange plastic at the mouth of the gun. Mark shouted, "I got my wall up! I get three of them, remember?" Devon shook his head. "That's fucking cheap! No way. I didn't agree to walls. I got you. I'm not playing with you if you fuck around like that." I continued to sit quietly, observing the two boys as they argued over the trivialities of their game. Mark, seemingly realizing he couldn't win with Devon, turned his attention to me. "Hey Sullivan, I thought we agreed you'd always take the pink cup." I glared at him and said, "I got here first. Look guys, I think we need to talk about this. You guys are acting more and more like kids. Maybe you need to do what Ashley and me were doing. Every night we'd talk about who we actually are. You know, to preserve our real selves." Mark snatched the blue cup in front of me and deposited the lone pink cup in its place. "You are sounding more and more like that bitch Ashley. And we aren't about to have some pussy girl talk session. I know who I am. We are just making the most of a shitty situation." I shook my head. "But you guys haven't done anything except really petty stuff. Like unplug cameras or whatever." Devon shouted petulantly, "And what have you done exactly, Sullivan? You seem to be going along with this just like we are. And we've fought a lot. You just haven't seen it. We're just getting out our stress, you know? It's not a big deal. Same as the video games back in the room." Mark said, "If you quit being such a whiny bitch about everything maybe we'll invite you back to play. Me and Devon are halfway through the original Resident Evil. I mean we would be way further along if this asshole didn't break our one controller." Devon said angrily, "It was my turn. You'd been playing for hours." I said unsteadily, "Guys, look- I know this is going to sound like pussy talk. But you should probably stop playing that game so much. And ..." I was interrupted by twin 'blasts' from the AR-15s. Despite the fact that the AR-15 was an assault rifle and not a shotgun, the boys still made obnoxious explosion sounds. Mark said, "Oh look Sullivan, your pretty head is all blown up. Guess you can't say anything right?" I knew that Devon, and particularly Mark, were immature, but their level of immaturity was shocking. They seemed to care way more about having fun than actually escaping. I wasn't sure I could trust them either, so I hadn't told them what transpired with Ms. Daniels and Dr. Travers. Still, without Ashley, I would need their help. I said, "Hey, don't you care about anything other than having fun? Is that what you guys are doing between takes?" I lowered my voice to a whisper. "Listen guys, I've got an access key. I found our phones, and if I get more time, I might be able to find a way out of here, or at least a signal to call the police." Mark's eyes widened in surprise, while a cruel smirk formed. "So why haven't you done it yet? Cause you're fucking scared. That's why. You should give it to us." Devon nodded. "Yeah. Where are you hiding it? And how long have you had it? And why the fuck didn't you tell us about it before? You don't trust us, Sullivan?" I shook my head rapidly, feeling immediately pressured to divulge everything. "It's not like that. I just wanted to make sure I had something before I told you guys. Like a way out of here or at least access to the phones. They are in the room behind us." The boys converged on me like hunters on a frightened deer, but I had no trees to provide cover, no deep forest to escape to- no, I was trapped. Mark said, "You know more, Sullivan. Tell us everything you fucking know. Everything." Against my better judgment (which wasn't particularly sound to begin with), I told them everything, from the original plot to the final stage- the specialized adoption agency. Devon said, "So if I'm getting this right, they're gonna erase our memories, and when they are done, they're going to sell us to some rich people. No fucking way." I said, "I think that's why they took Ashley. They are probably doing some experiment on her." Mark said, "OK, Sullivan, here's what we do. We take your card, we get our phones, and we get the fuck out of here." Incredibly, all mention of their previous game or the video game waiting for them was gone. The boys looked incredibly focused. I frowned. "What about Ashley? I'm not leaving her here." Mark replied, "Forget about that bitch, Sullivan. It's just us guys now. Now where's that card?" Mark looked at me eagerly, the same way our old basset hound Duke used to eye a thick, juicy steak. My mom hated that dog, but she didn't understand what made Duke so great, whether it was his constant slobbering, the way he would knock over little kids or how he would pee when he got too excited. Either way, he was the perfect dog for a kid who had to move constantly, fiercely loyal and a great playmate. When he died, it was one of the only times I ever remember seeing my dad cry. He didn't even cry at his dad's funeral or his mom's. I replied, "And what exactly are we going to do out there looking like this? What if we end up in an orphanage or something? I mean I can't exactly go home to my mom. I guess I've got some friends I could go to though." Devon nodded. "I kind of agree with Ryan in a way. I mean if we tell somebody what happened to us, how do we know they aren't gonna make us into a science experiment or something like that? Or yeah, there's a chance they don't believe us and they put us in an orphanage. And that means we are surrounded by kids our age. We'll regress. You know- really start thinking like kids. Yeah we'll have our memories still, but they won't be worth shit if we're these stupid kids." I couldn't help but notice earlier the level of immaturity both of were showing. I knew they were assholes, and while they would probably have made great drinking buddies or wingmen, they were lousy people to plan an intricate escape with because I couldn't trust them, especially Mark. Mark said, "What if they are coming for us right now to take us down to the laboratory with Ashley? Here we've got a chance to escape, and Sullivan is acting like a fucking pussy. Little shit has had the card for like a week, and he's done fuck-all with it. I would have been out of here in a second." Devon shook his head and pointed to the vent. "It looks pretty dark there, man. You think you can get in there without pissing your pants?" Mark shook his head. "I'll fucking kill you if you tell anyone." Devon grinned, his eyes showing clear intent for boyish mayhem. "Sure, I won't tell Sullivan that you needed the night light. Two nights in a row." Mark shouted, "I kept hearing these fucked up sounds. Like this constant scraping metal against metal. And the sink was dripping. It reminded me of something. I'm not using it tonight. No fucking way." The grin never left Devon's face. "Sure, man. Well I didn't hear nothing. So what is it, your imagination or something? Fuck, man- you are losing it." Mark said, "Oh yeah? Am I losing it the same way you are with your crying? You're more of a chick than Sullivan here." Devon reached out an accusatory finger, pointed squarely at Mark, and exclaimed, "It hurt like hell when you hit me in the jaw when we were playing football. And I saw you crying after Daniels pulled you by the ear when she found out you were pulling the cables." As I watched the exchange, I realized something. Both of these supposed men were acting like children. Mark quickly snapped out of his prepubescent stupor. 'OK, Sullivan. Time to lead us out of here. Now you are going in that vent, or we are taking that card from you, and leaving you here to play science experiment with Travers." Despite the threat, I agreed with Mark. It was time to show my bravery and lead the others to their phones, and potentially, to their escape. We couldn't help Ashley, but we could call someone who could. I figured that if we crawled around in the vents long enough, we would find a room with at least one window, which might get us a signal, and our salvation. I nodded and got up from the table, leading the boys through the storage room grate. With others the darkness was powerless to stop my progression, and while I didn't particularly like Devon and Mark, their presence dispersed the monsters that attempted to jump from my now boundless imagination into reality. I retrieved my phone, while Mark and Devon did the same. I knew that it was useless to turn it on immediately, as the lack of signal would kill what little battery I had left. Mark and Devon stayed close together, even as Devon tried to pull closer to me as we entered the next vent, Mark increased his pace to match Devon's. The room where Travers and Daniels had unknowingly revealed their plan yielded nothing except for a bunch of computers and a set of whiteboards covered with incomprehensible calculations. I knew enough from high school biology to recognize DNA strands. I pulled my charger out, plugged it in a nearby power socket and quickly took pictures of the whiteboards. The other two remained silent as my phone rapidly captured the contents of the whiteboards. I thought I caught a hint of a smile on Devon's face. I was lucky to stumble across the power bar as I was searching near the computer, but the near pitch black room made it difficult to see anything, let alone an expression. Devon managed to find another vent, and he took the lead, with Mark still following him like a lost puppy dog. Emergency flood lights erased the dark as we exited into a corridor much like the one that led to my formerly shared bedroom. Devon said, "Sullivan, give me your key." I handed it over without issue, and while I was momentarily shocked how quickly I had given up my only advantage, I had little time to process it- Devon had managed to open a set of doors at the end of the corridor. The doors flung open, but as they did, the light died, bathing us in less than comforting darkness. Seconds later, I heard the sound of metal scraping against metal. It sounded like someone dragging a massive butcher knife across metal floor grates. At least that is the image my mind created. I shone my phone at the floor. Beneath my dainty feet lay row upon row of metal floor gratings. My heart lurched in my chest feeling like a live grenade, threatening to explode outward. The scraping sound grew closer. On top of this, I could a faint dripping, the steady tink-tink- tink of a leaky faucet draining into a metal basin. Devon shouted, "Fuck, Mark! Stay together!" I heard footsteps, and I felt around for Devon, but both of them were gone. It was at this point, I simply started running, headlong into the dark. Every step caused a clanging underneath, which seemed to echo incessantly in my ears. My heart continued to leap in my chest, as I felt not only the vulnerability of my small form, but a return to a primal and uncontrollable fear. I plunged through yet another set of doors into what had become eternal darkness. Petrified, I flicked on my phone, casting a dull yet heavenly glow. The power saver mode wouldn't allow much light, but it was enough to carefully make my way through the room. It looked like a lighting storage and repair area, with dozens of studio lights piled against the wall. I exited into another room, and by this point, the scraping sound was distant, and I couldn't even hear the leaky faucet. The door opened to a familiar sight, but it was the one sliver of sanity in this madhouse. I was in the room where I was first interviewed for the Hermie the Hippo show. The emergency power flood lights were back, so I was able to see the Hermie posters lining the wall, and the cameras. Shit. I quickly flung myself against the wall, back into the shadows untouched by the flood lights. I knew that beyond these doors lay security and beyond that- freedom. I crept along the wall slowly, climbing over chairs while keeping a close eye on the camera. Luckily, it wasn't moving. The blond woman who conducted the interview, whose name I never learned, would have found equal competition in Ms. Daniels now. I was pleased that despite the importance of focus in the situation that I could still imagine the two of them in bikinis- or nothing. A little smile formed as I imagined both of them working out, their trim bodies glistening. I had nothing down there to react, but I could still fantasize, and most importantly, I still found girls hot as hell. While some no doubt would call my fantasizing sexist (probably Ashley) or inappropriate to the situation, it actually gave me courage. I soldiered on and pushed through the door into the security area, where incredibly, no one was on guard. A small waiting area sat across from the security desk, which was enclosed with thick, likely bullet-proof glass. Again, I remained locked to the shadows, sneaking to places untouched by the flood lights. Once I reached the waiting area, I could see a corridor and something better than a half-naked or even fully naked Monique - a lit EXIT sign. I grinned widely and picked up my pace. At the end of the corridor was a small welcome area, but unlike every other room in the compound, it was distinctly different- there was a window. I tried the door, but it was locked from the inside. One of the special access key slots was positioned just to the left of the handle, and unfortunately, Devon still had mine. Still, right next to the window was an outlet, which I immediately used to charge my phone. I held the now giant phone in my hands. When I could use it like a tablet, I had little difficulty, meaning that taking pictures was a cinch, but typing on it required me to actually sit the phone on the floor like a mini-computer. While I waited for it to connect to the network, I started typing messages to Greg, Eve, and even Jessica, although I expected she would be mad at me for never texting her about the cancelled date. Thankfully, I could type the messages offline, but they would send once I connected. The phone took forever to locate a network, but finally, it connected with one solid, glorious bar. Despite this fact, three notifications popped up on the phone, all stating the same thing: "Message failed to send." I tried again, but I achieved the same result. The phone still showed one bar. I quickly keyed in 9-1-1, but the call wouldn't connect. What I was witnessing was impossible, but I didn't give up. I was so close to escaping from this living nightmare, and even though I would keep a potentially permanent souvenir if I was trapped in Kaylee's body, at least I would retain my memories. This, in turn, would allow me to keep Ryan Sullivan alive. I would never become Kaylee in mind because doing so meant that the doctor's experiment was a success. I clicked the Facebook app, intending the send a message to Greg, but my phone displayed network connectivity problems. I wasn't a technology genius or anything, but I knew how to switch networks. A small roaming charge was worth it if it meant getting the hell out of here. Amazingly, my phone picked up a 4G network, and a few seconds later, I was connected. I immediately moved to send the messages again, but the device vibrated gently, indicating another notification. I thought that my messages had failed again, but instead, it showed a new text message. (323)9876543: This is over now, Kaylee. Walk slowly back to the waiting area. Me: im callin cops (323)9876543: Feel free to do so. Wasting no time, I returned to my phone and called 9-1-1. The call wouldn't connect. Considering my text messages were working I thought I could text the police, however; my attempt was unsuccessful. My phone vibrated again. (323)9876543: Be a good girl and come back, Kaylee. You've been on quite the adventure, but it's time to come home. I looked around, but I didn't see any cameras. How were they watching me? I heard footsteps approaching and the distinct clicking of heels. With nothing left to lose, I pounded my tiny fists on the fire door, and proceeded to throw my body into it multiple times. It didn't budge. I screamed, although my voice came out in a high-pitched shriek. "Help!! I've been kidnapped by fucking psychos! Help me!!" I continued frantically banging on the door. The clicking of heels grew closer, close enough that I knew Ms. Daniels and I now shared the same corridor. I looked behind me and my previous thought was quickly confirmed. As I felt a hand on my shoulder, I noticed the access panel next to the fire door glow green. The door swung open like all the others, but as I was about to exit, I realized, as crushing despair weighed on my slight shoulders, that I had been viciously deceived. My potential saviour, the one who had seemingly heard my cries for help, was Dr. Travers. Ms. Daniels said, "Should their little escape attempt give you some of the data you require doctor?" Dr. Travers stepped into the corridor, leaving the door wide open. He nodded. "It will. Although I will need to take the readings within the next hour. I trust this will not interfere with your filming?" Ms. Daniels shook her head. She snatched the phone from hands that were now trembling. I desperately tried not to cry as a lump the size of a bowling ball formed in my throat. She leaned down and gently tousled my hair, while peering at my phone. "You got closer than the others, Kaylee. But ultimately, you can't win." She shook her head. "And with these messages you tried to send, you've shown you can't be trusted." I shouted, "B-But you were going to wipe our memories either way! That's what you said!" Ms. Daniels smiled. "Well now you'll never know. Will you? Don't be upset though, you've shown a lot of ingenuity here, young lady. And I've been thinking it through, and I think I will just adopt you myself after the doctor fixes you up. That way you can keep filming the show." She leaned down and met me at eye level, however; the creepiest part of her action was in the expression, which matched the look my mother had given me as child many times. It was her "I want to be your mom face". It was an expression I saw rarely as a teenager, but as a young child I saw it often enough. My mom would then try and join me in a game of guns or play super heroes with me. It was sad, but it was likely a sincere attempt. As much as she tried, she could never turn me into a momma's boy. We just never had that kind of relationship. To see a similar expression on the newly youthful face of Ms. Daniels, purged the tears from my body, and while a measure of fear remained, I was filled with white-hot rage. "Are you fucking kidding me? That's unbelievably sick. That you would try and have this weirdo relationship with me after what you did- and ..." Ms. Daniels put her finger to my lips. "But you won't remember any of it, sweetie. You'll just be a blank canvas for mommy to fill. If the doctor does his job right that is. We're going to have so much fun. My sweet, sweet beautiful little girl. I'll put you in dance classes. You'll be a pretty ballerina for mommy, won't you?" She reached out and hugged me, whispering, "We'll watch Disney Princess movies, I'll take you shopping for new clothes, and every night I'll brush your long hair, tell you how beautiful you are, and you'll go to sleep knowing mommy loves you very much. Won't that be wonderful, Kaylee?" I shook my head and tried to pry myself from the woman's grip. Looking to Dr. Travers, I said, "Doc, I think you need to up her dose. And if she doesn't have one, then you need to make one." Ms. Daniels giggled. "I'll show you how to paint your nails. Then when you get older, you'll get to wear makeup. And when you start noticing boys, well we'll have a special talk. Just you and me. I can give you a magical, fantasy life. You'll be mommy's little princess." Dr. Travers said matter-of-factly, "I expect she suffered some form of childhood trauma and probably multiple failed pregnancies. She hides the neuroses well enough, but they do surface. Certainly you have heard her speak in that sing-song voice before." I had heard Ms. Daniels speak that way, but it was rare. The last time was when she said I'd be returning to mommy and daddy. Apparently, it was only mommy. The doctor continued, "It seems despite your attempt at escape, she has taken a liking to you. She never speaks to the others with the same tone. These prognostications are based only on what I have seen in her behaviour. I haven't studied her the same way I will you and your companions." At this point, Dr. Travers leaned in close to me, uncomfortably close. It was a closeness that in a store or restaurant, with anyone but a parent or close friend, would have resulted in strange if not concerned looks. The doctor stared at me in much the same way he did when he was giving me the 'vaccine'. Ms. Daniels finally released me from her maternal death grip. "You'll be very, very happy to go home with mommy when the time is right." She walked away from me slowly, with a slight but noticeable slump to her shoulders. Just before leaving, however, she handed the phone back to me. I wasn't surprised- it was useless with no signal to the outside world. I shook my head. "This is so fucked up. Can't you see that? You're working for a person who should be in a mental hospital. Are you sure you can even trust her?" Dr. Travers shook his head. "Absolutely not. And why do I work with her? Because she provides me, or will provide me with the datasets I require. She also provides me with financial backing needed to continue my experiments. The initial grant I received is only a fraction of what I require to actually fund this operation. Even a madwoman has uses, Mr. Sullivan." I replied, "And you really have no problem with this? Just for science? I mean couldn't you heal people- you know help them? You cured Ashley's allergy. Some people actually die. Isn't that something you should make public? And that old people disease. I can't remember the name. It could mean people would live longer." Dr. Travers said, "This is a highly illogical option. There are finite resources on this planet. If world hunger was solved, we would face extinction because those that no longer die would want what we have." He continued, "There is a balance, Mr. Sullivan. That is why there is no panacea, even though the Genome Project actually determined a way to remove genes that cause certain types of cancers. Your own government is aware of this. Why didn't they make this knowledge public or share it with the world? Because cancer, like the bubonic plague and smallpox, is a wonderful equalizer. It kills and others take their place. It's an efficient system. Diseases like that ensure that we never exhaust our finite resources." I peered at the still open door. I was caught between a madwoman who wanted to treat me like life-sized doll and a man that thought so little of his fellow humans that he would let potentially thousands and even millions die because it was striking a so-called 'balance'. I obviously didn't have a firm grasp on world hunger, but I figured if you could save a life, why wouldn't you? It just seemed wrong. It was at this point, I realized there was little point in trying to reason with the doctor. In the end, to him, I was just a collection of datasets. Not even human. The doctor said, "We are not completely dissimilar, Mr. Sullivan. Do not look at me in that manner." Had I actually offended the doctor's sensibilities? Was he even capable of such emotion? I shook my head. "What the hell are you talking about?" The doctor replied, "We are both at times bereft of emotion. Although for you, it is a result of your upbringing. For me, it is something entirely outside of my control. I have enjoyed watching you break down at certain points, seeing how the change you have undergone has sapped your ability to walk through life, numb to pain or fear. It really is fascinating to see." I blinked. "H-How do you know all this stuff about me? You couldn't have gotten all that when you gave me the vaccine." Dr. Travers clasped his hands together, his fingers wiggling excitedly. He had another secret to tell. "You would be amazed how much you can learn from an individual from their cellular phone. It is one reason why I don't have one. Your text message thread with a certain 'Greg' revealed much about your past. Including your messages to various consorts that ended any brief union. We are alike because we both have a wilful disregard for the feelings of others, you with the female sex, and I with humanity as a whole. And we show that disregard in a lack of emotion." He continued, "Colloquially, you do so with the so-called notches on your bed posts. You move from conquest to conquest with little in the way of baggage or connection. I do so with my experiments to satisfy a scientific curiosity." I sighed heavily, knowing the truth of his words, but refusing to admit it. "What's the point of all this? So we are both emotionless douches? For me, it's just easier. I don't like dealing with shit, so I break it off. And girls like Monique didn't care. They wanted the same thing. Y- You're just a monster." The doctor shook his head, folding his hands at his side. Emotion actually crept into his voice. I emitted a startled gasp as he spoke. "The point is that as I have seen in you and in the connection you forged with Ms. Perkins, you are capable of more. You can be more than as you put it an emotionless douche with respect to your relationships with females. I am also capable of more. "Mr. Sullivan, I'm not a monster because unlike Ms. Daniels, who would like to see you dressed in petticoats and paraded about the pageant circuit, I am willing to set you free. You'll keep your memories, and as long as you stay away from children your own age, you will maintain your adult mind." I shook my head in disbelief. "But- my body! You have to change me back before you let me go. I can't leave here looking like this. And don't you need your dataset? I don't get it. Why would you let me go?' Dr. Travers replied, "Because I don't agree with what she plans to do with you. Better that you end up with anyone but her. Simply venture outside and you'll be free, Mr. Sullivan. I will obtain my gender-based dataset from one of the two boys. Or another subject." He added, "There is something she sees in you. I don't know what it is exactly, some undefined yet powerful bond. She has acted this way with no other subject, and as fascinating as it is to document your transition, even I have my limits- I won't subject you to a lifetime with her." I said, "Aren't you afraid that I will tell people what happened to me? That your whole plan will be discovered?" The doctor nodded. "It's a calculated risk. I would trust those in the know to safeguard the secret of the serum. I can't give you back what has been taken from you, Mr. Sullivan, but I can provide you the means to escape." I looked out the door and into the parking lot of the television studio, at my freedom. I shook my head. "What about Ashley? Where did you take her?" Dr. Travers replied evenly, "Unimportant. This is your only chance to hold onto who you are Mr. Sullivan, and to avoid a fate where you are made to love the one who did this to you. Accept my generous offer and leave." He added, "The door will be open for five minutes." He walked slowly away from me. I looked back, and he was gone. I was alone. If I left, where would I go? Even though I had thought about my mom recently, I certainly didn't want to tell her what happened to me. She would probably be as bad as Ms. Daniels. I knew she was disappointed that she never had a daughter, but I wasn't about to give her that gift. No doubt she would mother me to the point where Ryan Sullivan would be replaced entirely with Kaylee. I thought of Greg and Eve. They were the obvious choice. Knowing who I was, they wouldn't try and raise me like a typical little girl. They wouldn't make me go to school, meaning I could maintain my adult mind. They would probably just let me be Ryan. Also, I had the pictures from the whiteboard on my phone. I could e-mail them to biologists and universities, hoping that someone could figure out how to change me back. I put one foot over the threshold, glad I had decided to wear my sneakers, despite the fact they were pink and covered with glow-in-the- dark glittery hearts and stars. As I started to move my other foot, I started to feel a tremendous sense of fear. My heart thudded in my chest, as my entire body began to shake. I looked at the world before me, and not only was it massive- it was terrifying. Everything, from the cars to the buildings, to the people walking beyond the fence surrounding the studio, looked huge, and imposing. I was used to being alone. Alone, I fled my home to chase Hollywood dreams. I lived alone, at least prior to sharing a bedroom with Ashley. My thoughts went back to my mom, and a tiny part of me wished that she was there to hold my hand, to give me a little nudge. Shit. What the hell was wrong with me? All the courage seeped from my body like a vicious winter wind ending the life of a dying fire. My mind was wracked by anxiety. What if Greg and Eve didn't accept me? What if they dumped me at an orphanage? I'd end up surrounded by children all day and lose my adult self. I knew the fears made little sense, especially considering if I stayed I would have my memory wiped. Still, the irrational fear persisted. It reminded me how I felt when we moved. I was always worried how the other kids would treat me, if school would be worse than it already was or if I'd be able to make any friends. The fears subsided within the first day, usually by the time I had told my first joke in class. The fears were irrational because I always managed to make friends no matter where I moved, but there were always butterflies in my stomach before the first day of school. I tried to tell myself that I had nothing to fear, but this fear suddenly merged with my feelings of failure and surrender. It was easier to just stay and be erased. The outside world meant trying and potentially failing. The powerful concoction kept me from fully exiting the studio. I started to have grave concerns that Eve and Greg wouldn't believe who I was. Why would they? I was already starting to act like a completely different person. Would they see any of Ryan in this child- sized body? My heart now pounded in my chest, like the ratta-tat-tat-ratta-tat-tat of a fully automatic rifle. My hands grew sweaty, and my head swooned. Suddenly, the world outside the studio seemed like a nightmarish place. The cars became roaming beasts, and the people were misshapen husks covered in barbed wire. I felt dizzy, and my hand reached out to grab hold of the door, causing me to tumble back inside. I told myself repeatedly that what I was seeing made no sense, and that I desperately had to leave. As horrible a fate that awaited me inside, I imagined worse fates beyond. While the studio and my bedroom was a prison, at least it was safe. I was free from harm, while the world beyond, a place of eternal mystery held unspeakable danger. What the hell was wrong with me? Why was I acting like such a pussy over this? Just leave. I had a plan. Meet Greg and Eve, send the e-mails with the pics. Just leave. The door shut. I felt a hand on my shoulder. It was Dr. Travers. His lips trembled for a moment, the corners of his mouth gradually lifting. Impossibly, the man was smiling. *** Chapter 11 "Imagine it, Kaylee. We'll live in a big, beautiful house with a garden in the back and a front porch. During the summer, I'll sit on the porch swing sipping lemonade, while you play with your dolls. Summer will pass quickly, and soon it'll be time for school. You'll be nervous at first, and scared to leave your mommy, but I'll walk with you. And you'll be a big, brave girl, won't you, Kaylee? Can't you picture it?" Three days had passed. In that time, it became horrifyingly clear that Ms. Daniels had an unhealthy obsession with me. It started with tousling my hair after the initial transformation, then it was gleefully dressing me after I soiled my clothes while crawling around the air ducts. This was followed by her admission that she intended to adopt me after my memory was wiped, but now, she had taken to tucking me in every night, kissing me on the forehead and singing me a lullaby. It was obvious too that she was the voice behind Musica. The sing-songy voice she had started using all the time matched the record player. I shook my head in response to the earlier questions, hoping she would just go away. I pulled my covers over my head, trying desperately to drown her out. Ms. Daniels asked with a smile that would have made Hermie proud, "What lullaby would you like me to sing tonight, sweetie?" I felt her hand on my back. She rubbed it gently and spoke in hushed tones, "Shh. Shh. Everything will be just fine, Kaylee. Whenever you're scared, just picture us together in that big house, safe and warm. Safe and warm." Despite the soothing nature of her voice, she might as well have been brandishing a chainsaw and screaming in my ear. I would not be lulled to sleep by her. She continued to rub my back and speak softly, "In a few days you'll start to feel like the real you. Don't worry. I know you are confused. You have these memories that aren't yours. The only thing you need to remember is that you are mommy's shining star." Ironically, while the woman was positioning herself to be my mother, each day that I saw her, she was looking less and less the part. Those luscious and full breasts were still there, but they were smaller, but it was her face that told the full story. The faint lines around her eyes were completely gone now, the bags a distant memory. The double chin she had as a forty-something woman had smoothed, but fat had returned to her cheeks. Her body too had changed, with her hips slimming. She looked like she had just graduated high school. I wasn't sure if she realized it, but any neighbourhood we moved into would assume she was a teenage mother. The young woman easily pulled the covers away from my face and kissed me gently on the forehead. "I love you, Kaylee." She lingered for a minute, likely waiting for me to say something in return. With my silence, however, she trudged from the room. I tossed and turned, my mind grappling with my inability to leave and the horrible fate that awaited me as the daughter of a madwoman. My body and mind exhausted with the struggle finally succumbed to sleep hours later. *** "Hey, Kaylee. Do you want to build a snowman?" I awoke with a start, which was unusual for me. The reason, however, was obvious- there was someone lying on my bed. I thought for a moment that Ms. Daniels had returned to help me greet the day, tired of doing so through Musica, but the form was smaller. I felt hands on my covers again as I tried to drift back to sleep, uncertain if I was in actually in a semi dream-like state. My fitful night of sleep had left me feeling drained, and the fact the lights were still off meant I could sleep longer. "C'mon, Kaylee. Wake up, let's play!" I groaned and turned over, but again the covers were pulled from me. My mind slowly reached a state of awareness, but it was jolted to full consciousness when the intruder started jumping on my bed. "Wake up! Wake up! C'mon, Kaylee. Don't you wanna build a snowman with me?" I groaned, but with my mind now fully aware, I realized that I recognized the voice of the intruder. I threw my arms around Ashley, practically hugging the life out of her. "What's a matter, Kaylee? Did you have a bad dream?" The little girl hugged me back, but without the same ferocity. The words spilled out of my mouth, "Ashley! Shit, it's really good to see you. Things have gotten so much worse here...Ms. Daniels, she's insane. I mean we knew that before, right? Well she's bat shit insane. Now she wants to be my mom. And I tried to escape, Dr. Travers was letting me go, but I just couldn't leave. I-I needed you there. To push me you know? I was so close. I just, well I got really scared. It's freaking me out because I was acting like...well like a kid who is scared to leave their house. I should have been able to leave." The little girl giggled. "That's funny, Kaylee! You call mommy a weird name. That's what grown-ups call her! And you aren't allowed to leave. Mommy says there's a busy street out there. We could get hurt. When we move to the house it won't be busy. But you need to hold my hand when we cross, kay?" I blinked slowly, the horror of the situation slowly dawning on me. I took the girl by the shoulders. "You have to fight it, Ashley! What they did to you! I need you! I can't do it by myself. Y-You can't be like this!" Tears escaped from my eyes. The girl wasn't laughing any longer. I could barely see her expression in the darkness, but I could see her shoulders slump. "Why are you being weird, Kaylee? I'm Madison, your big sister. Should I go get mommy? Are you sick?" I was at least partly relieved that Ashley and I were going through this hell together. It was obvious to me that the treatments that Ms. Daniels received had done something to her mind. Oddly, the younger she got, the more maternal she became. I expected the reverse. I knew that women had biological clocks that pushed them to have children, but what was happening to Ms. Daniels made little sense. She originally planned to sell us through the adoption agency, but I had heard nothing of that plan for days. While I hated the idea of having my memory wiped and being sold to some rich couple, I was even less enthusiastic at the prospect of being Ms. Daniels' little girl. I shook my head, repeatedly. "Uh no. Definitely not. Listen, do you have another voice, like another person inside you? Is her name Ashley?" Ashley replied uneasily, "N-No, and that's spooky. You mean like a ghost? Don't say that, Kaylee. I don't like it!" Ashley hopped off my bed and quickly flicked on the lamp on the night table. "Stop being weird, Kaylee," she asked in a sing-song voice. "So, do you wanna build a snowman?" I sighed. "What are you talking about? We're in LA. It never snows here." Ashley pulled me out of bed. "C'mon, quit being a weirdo. You know how to play it. We just get these pictures- in our heads. And it's fun. It's pretend." Not wanting Ms. Daniels to make a reappearance, I decided to play along. I would continue to chip away at the programming Ashley had undergone, hoping to reveal pieces of her old self. For now, it was harmless enough to indulge her. I said, "OK, how do you play?" Ashley beamed, "It's really easy! You'll be Elsa, and I'll be Anna. I know it's kinda weird that way because Elsa's older. But you were sleeping, so I'm Anna!" I stared at her blankly. She was acting like I knew what she was talking about. "How come you forgot how to play Frozen? It's the best movie ever. We've probably watched it...maybe a million times. What's with you? Are you sure you don't want me to get mommy?" I shook my head and raised my hands. "No, no! I remember. I just like when you explain it." Ashley nodded. "OK, well like you SHOULD know, we are princesses. And you've got magic that makes snow and ice. All this totally cool stuff. And we play together. It's so fun!" I shrugged my shoulders. "Yeah. OK. So what do we do first?" Ashley, who ignored my grumpiness, said excitedly, "Well you wave your hands. And you make a snowman!" The girl waved her hands and wiggled her fingers. I followed her lead, waving my hands, imagining that the gesture was creating a typical snowman. I sighed lightly, finding absolutely nothing fun about the game. "I feel stupid doing this." I longed for a visit to the other bedroom, the one with all the video games. Ashley frowned. "What's a matter, Kaylee? You love this game. And you always bug me to be Elsa. So now's your chance!" The frown quickly disappeared, curving into a bright beaming smile. I had my doubts Ashley would even have to act happy to be on the show. I put on my game face, a big plastic smile, which Ashley now seemed to form naturally. She reminded me a bit of the Joker from Batman, although maybe that was an exaggeration. Ashley pulled all the pillows off our bed and piled them next to me. "You always love this part. It's the funnest! You throw the pillows and pretend they are big snow hills. And I'll jump on them!" I had to admit that the next part was a lot more fun. I wasn't picturing it in my head like I'm sure Ashley was, but it was better than playing with dolls or colouring, which is what I worried Ashley would want to do eventually. The game actually had some challenge to it because I had to throw the pillows in a way that enabled Ashley to jump across without touching the floor, and considering I wasn't very strong or accurate, it took a few tries. Despite the small failures, and the fact I knew nothing about the characters or the movie they came from, I still had a lot of fun. I was actually shocked how easily I fell into the game and the characters. Still, I played much like I had as a kid, eventually throwing the pillows too far apart and causing Ashley to 'fall' from the previous snow hill. I was kind of a jerk. Ashley looked at me crossly. "That's not right. Elsa helps Anna across. She doesn't want to hurt her. They're sisters, like us!" I shrugged, but an idea suddenly popped into my head. "You said I get to be evil though, right? Well I'm gonna make a snow monster to chase you." I made the sound of a ferocious beast, or at least as scary a noise possible with my high-pitched voice. It sounded more like the roar of a baby dinosaur. I wiggled my fingers and pointed at Ashley, this time actually pretending a snowman had risen from the snow. The creature had an ice hook for a hand, while the body had icy spikes protruding from it. I yelled, "Watch out! It's going to impale you!" Ashley frowned and crossed her arms underneath her chest. "You aren't playing right! And I don't even like that part. It's scary. I like it when Elsa and Anna are sisters in the castle. And they play together. I'm not gonna play with you if you're mean." I thought about the girl's words, but instead of using that as an out to stop playing with her, I said, "OK, well then I'm gonna do this." I walked toward the bathroom, which had a linoleum floor, and waved my hands. I took one step on the linoleum floor and proceeded to skate across it. Ashley followed suit eagerly, a big smile once again plastered on her face. She shrieked, "This part is the best! I knew you'd do that. You always said it's your favourite part!" I had never seen the movie Ashley and I were re-creating in the bedroom. How was it possible that I knew that this Elsa character makes a skating rink? I mean it was logical she would do that, since she can make ice. Rather than ponder the strange coincidence, I once again easily fell into the game. Our socked feet made the perfect skates, with Ashley and I twisting, twirling and sometimes tumbling. It was beyond strange, but the more I thought about the movie, the more familiar it seemed. There was something so innocent and pure about the moment. It reminded me of being a kid, the same way eating the sugared cereal or drinking Kool-Aid had. It was a simpler time and a happier time. My dad was still alive, and my mom and I still got along. I could almost smell her famous peanut butter chocolate chip cookies. I sometimes longed for those days, when summer days were endless, playing thousands of games of tag and hide-and-go-seek. Coming in only when it got dark, and at times, getting special permission to stay out later so we could play guns. As I played with Madison, all my worries faded away. All that mattered was what we were doing in that instant and how much fun we were having. My spirit was lifted and there was an airy feeling in my chest, as if the simple play was the final piece to the puzzle that had previously kept me from being content. Acting, having my memory wiped, becoming the daughter of a crazy woman, none of it mattered. Incredibly, we played until lunch. I hadn't once looked at the clock, and we went from game to game, with me taking on the role of the younger Anna and then switching back to Elsa. By the end of it, I really, really wanted to see the movie. Ashley said, "I really missed you, Kaylee. I love playing with you. You're so much fun! I never woulda thought to make a skating rink in the bathroom!" I said, while wearing a tiny sheepish smile, "Thanks, Maddie. It's fun playing with you too." I actually couldn't wait to play with Ashley again after lunch, and that inkling, that sense of concern over my behaviour had been reduced to a dull buzzing in the back of my head, where formerly it had been the equivalent of a blaring siren with blinding warning lights. *** "Boys, what have I told you about staying up late playing your games? Do I have to take the controllers away? Those dark circles under your eyes look terrible, and we can't fix it in post-production." Despite her apparent age, Ms. Daniels still towered over the boys in her heels. The boys said in unison, "Sorry, Ms. Daniels." Mark said, "We just got caught up in it. It's a really fun game. We'll go to bed on time tonight, we promise." I stared, mouth agape at Mark's behaviour. First, I was surprised that every second word wasn't 'fuck', and second, I was shocked that he seemed so submissive. I knew that something had happened in their room. The escape was Mark's idea after all. I just went along with it. I shouldn't have been entirely surprised though. Since the escape, the boys were becoming more and more immature, beginning to act in a way that matched their bodies. Whenever they weren't filming, they were back in their room- probably playing the game. The only person they listened to was Ms. Daniels. They certainly didn't listen to Ashley or me, especially when they started a food fight at lunch. Strangely though, they never disappeared, not like Ashley at least. So what was happening to them? During a scene featuring Ashley, Mark and Devon, I noticed Hermie trying to get my attention. The beast never removed his head or even spoke to us between scenes. It was clear Hermie's only purpose was to play a role on the show, so the way he was motioning toward one of the side offices was very unusual behaviour. Considering both a mad scientist and a psycho wannabe mom lived in the same complex, I seriously doubted he could be worse than them. Hermie closed the door behind us and actually removed his, or rather her head. Underneath the guise of Hermie was the young blonde woman who had originally interviewed me for the show. "I've turned the camera off in here, and the microphone is off in my head. It's safe to talk. Listen, Ryan, you have to get out of here. I know you tried once before. I wanted you to just walk out the door so badly. But now that Ashley, or rather Madison, is back you desperately need to leave. Dr. Travers wasn't kidding when he said that exposure to real children will cause a significant regression in your mind." I shook my head. "But Ashley isn't a real kid. She's just confused. I'm going to help her. Like she helped me." The woman smiled gently. "She's really had a positive impact on you." Her face quickly darkened. "But it's too late for her. For the boys. And within a week or less, it'll be too late for you. Ryan, you have to understand that Ashley is a real child now. Through and through. With the latest dataset, Dr. Travers found a way to erase her memory. She doesn't remember Ryan Sullivan, or even who she was." I sneered at the woman, "And why should I believe you? How do I know this isn't just another cruel way to collect more data? Like when they made it seem like I could leave and Dr. Travers was just waiting outside the door? I don't feel like I can trust anyone. Especially not someone who is on the whole thing like you are. What's your name?" She replied calmly, "I'm Tracy. I was a research assistant on the Genome Project, and I've worked with Dr. Travers for years. I did question his methods, but I was caught up with what could be the biggest scientific breakthrough of the century. A way to essentially cure all diseases, to make people younger. I was blinded by the thought of a utopia. A new Eden. And you're right, you don't have any reason to trust me. You've been jerked around here since day one." She continued, "But you need to escape so the horrors of this place can be revealed. I know from this point on, they will just erase the memories immediately. You are the last test subject that has any chance of keeping their memory of what happened here intact. People need to know what goes on here." I was still unconvinced I could trust Tracy, but she was the sanest person I had met to this point. "And how am I going to escape exactly?" Tracy smiled and took my hand. The gesture would have been strange when we first met, but now, I felt reassurance, comfort from the touch. "I'm going to call the police. I'll tell them that I think a studio is breaking the Fair Work/Equal Pay law. Basically, I'll say there are studio execs making kids work fourteen hours a day. There's a vent behind the elementary school set that leads right outside. In the ensuing chaos, I'll open it for you, and you can escape." I knew the vent. It was the same one I had failed to open multiple times. I pulled away from Tracy. "I still think I can help Ashley. I'll just remind her of who she actually is. She told me a lot of stories about when she was young," I said firmly. "I have to try." The gentle smile didn't leave Tracy's face as she spoke, "I know you care about her. But every time you are exposed to her, you risk losing more and more of your adult self. I watched your exchange in there. I know what happens because I've seen it before with the convicts." My mouth opened slightly. "You had real children interact with criminals? That's messed up." Tracy shook her head. "The destruction of the adult mind works almost like a virus. This was especially true with the convicts due to their poor impulse control. And it happened with Devon and Mark. Despite not being exposed to real children, their minds still changed. Their immaturity doomed them. Once one of them acted up, the others would usually follow suit. And it was a vicious circle from there because their behaviour regressed their minds. They did it to themselves." Tracy said, "I know you want to help her, and yes, you probably could work with her for hours to see if you could jog some part of her memory, but that would be deadly for you. Tell me what you want to do with her next time you see her." Without thinking I blurted out, "Play Frozen!" My hand flew to my mouth, and my eyes widened to comical proportions. I quickly corrected my statement, "I'm going to work with her, to see if I can bring back her memory." Tracy shook her head sadly. "It's already started. You know you called her Maddie, right?" I shook my head, put my hands on my hips and bent over slightly. "I did NOT!" My behaviour caused Tracy's pretty face to scrunch into an unattractive saddened mask. "You know I'm right. You have to leave here, or they'll be nothing left of Ryan Sullivan. You'll be Kaylee fully, in body and mind." I said, "And what about Ashley? You can't let Ms. Daniels take her. What's with her anyway? She used to be obsessed with shooting the stupid show, but now she's all kid crazy." Tracy said, "Dr. Travers has been steadily increasing her maternal instinct. He wanted to make her more focused on you and Ashley, so he could conduct his experiments before the end of the malleable period. Don't worry, I'm not going to let Ms. Daniels have Ashley or any of the children." I decided to ask the burning question, "Is that period over? A-Am I trapped like this forever?" Tracy reached out to me again, and I allowed her to grasp my hands. "It is, but it doesn't mean I'm going to stop trying to help reverse the effects of this. I haven't found an ageing gene, similar to the regenerative gene, but I know it exists. Do you know there are people with lipodystrophy? It's a pre-mature ageing disease. If I can manage to get a similar grant and someone with that disease, I could use Dr. Travers' research to develop a cure." I replied, "And what's going to happen to me in the meantime?" Tracy nodded. "I'll take you home to live with me. You'll be safe there from any real children, and I can monitor your condition. From there you can contact your friends and family. I'll help explain everything that happened to you." I looked down at my shoes, my mind starting to wander. I thought about all the fun I had with Ashley that morning. Tracy said, "When you are ready, you just give me the signal. I'll call the police, and you'll crawl through the vent. Then, you can hide in my car. I'll leave the doors unlocked. It's a red 2008 Ford Focus. Do you want to do this?" I nodded slowly. "Yes." It was a half lie, although better than the massive one I told Tracy when I first met her. I had never worked teaching acting to inner-city kids, and the one role I did have involving a kid was a non-speaking one, and I never spoke to him. The only interaction I had with kids previous to this was at the restaurant, and they weren't positive. It always annoyed me how messy the kids were, how they sometimes pulled all the napkins out of the dispenser or decided to leave bits of food on the booths. Or how their parents let them order food they obviously wouldn't like. Plus, it always took twice as long to clean a table when kids sat there. It was a half lie because I was still having serious second thoughts about leaving Ashley here, despite the danger of losing my adult self, it seemed wrong to abandon her. I saw the parallel between this and the military adage, no man left behind. My father told me a story about a young man in his unit. He had his leg blown off by a landmine. The unit risked their lives for the wounded soldier, eventually retrieving him and saving his life. Ashley was the only one who had cared about me here, the only one that helped me, and while we weren't in an armed conflict, it was close enough to war that I saw Ashley as a fellow soldier. I wasn't going to leave her behind. *** "Uh. Hey, Maddie- are you awake?" I was using Ashley's new name consciously now. Ashley replied from the top bunk, "Yeah. Are you scared, Kaylee? Do you wanna snuggle a bit?" I said, "No, that's not it. I'm just curious if you remember something really important." Ashley sounded intrigued. "Ooh, like a big secret? Did you tell me before I went to camp?" I raised a brow. "You went to camp? When was that?" Ashley replied, "It was last week silly! You looked so sad when I left. You'll get to go when you are eight like me. It was so much fun! It was kind of boring when I first was there. I had a lot of fun later though!" This matched Tracy's story about the convicts. I still wasn't sure I could trust her, but she was the only person, other than Ashley, who seemed to care about me. I assumed she felt guilt as a result of her part in creating the serum, but she was offering me a safe place, away from the children whose presence would destroy my adult self. Not only that, but she seemed committed to finding a cure. She was a scientist like Dr. Travers, but she had a heart, unlike the cold, cavernous empty chamber within the former's chest. Travers reminded me of the Terminator movies. If Skynet had really created a race of artificially intelligent robots, I imagined that Dr. Travers would probably lead them. A part of me was insulted by the fact he said we had anything in common. Being an emotionless prick to a bunch of needy and vulnerable women wasn't the same as stealing someone's life and turning them into a living science experiment. I asked, "When did you know you wanted to be on TV? Like how old were you?" Ashley replied excitedly, "Mommy took me to be in commercials when I was really young. That's what she said. I'm not sure. I can't really remember." I knew that Ashley Perkins had fallen in love with performing during a dance recital when she was five or six. I figured that Ms. Daniels would try and fill in her memories as much as possible, but she could never do it fully. I asked, "What was your favourite toy growing up?" Ashley replied, "You're a weirdo, Kaylee! What do you mean growing up? We aren't grown-ups. My most favourite toy in the world is my Elsa figure skating Barbie. You play with your Anna one, but sometimes I share with you." Again, the answer didn't match what I knew, which was the decapitated Zoe glitter fun station. I couldn't actually remember the name, but I knew what it looked like, and it was nothing from this decade. I felt a burst of energy and an excitement build within me at the mention of the Frozen characters. Would we play again tomorrow? This time, the warning bells sounded. Like a great cock block in the face of an unattractive girl, my early warning system completely shut down any thought of playing with Madison...Ashley tomorrow. I didn't want to ask Ashley the next question, but so far, it seemed like the memory wipe was total. I sighed deeply. "When you were six, did something really bad happen to you? Something you still remember?" There was a long pause. My heart raced in anticipation, desperately hoping she would remember something of her past. Finally, she responded. "I got lost. I was so scared. I thought it would be fun to hide on mommy. So I went into a big bunch of clothes all in a circle. Well mommy didn't come find me. And I waited...and then I felt really scared. So I started looking for her. The store was so big. Bigger than our house! They called my name on a big speaker and told me to go to the toys. I knew where that was. And mommy was waiting there!" I frowned. Despite her apparent insanity, she had provided Ashley with believable memories. Or was it part of the process? Ms. Daniels had said that I would be a blank canvas, so I assumed she had created the memories in the time spent with Ashley. A kid with no memory would likely be terrified without any parents. Ms. Daniels likely filled that role immediately, spending hours with her, implanting hundreds of memories. I said anxiously, starting to believe that Ashley remembered nothing of her previous life, "Um. Something worse though. You don't remember anything about your uncle Robert?" Again, there was a long pause. Ashley replied with similar hesitation, "I-I'm not sure. I don't know any Robert...but I-I feel like a hurt in my heart. And kind of an icky feeling in my tummy. Hermie said we should just giggle it out. But I don't want to. I'm scared, Kaylee. I don't like this feeling!" I climbed into the top bunk, and the girl threw her arms around me. She had tears in her eyes, and while I regretted bringing up such a painful memory, it was clear that Dr. Travers' method wasn't perfect. I said, "It's okay, Ashley. I'm sorry for bringing it up." The girl gently wiped her eyes. "W-Why do you keep calling me that? That's not my name." Before I had a chance to answer, I heard the superstar makeover closet slide open, and then the clicking of high heels, which were immediately muted by the carpet in the bedroom. "Kaylee! It's not nice to trick your sister like that." I balled my tiny hands into fists and glared at Ms. Daniels. "Seriously? We can't have one fucking minute of privacy in here? Are you sitting listening to us 24/7 or something?" Ashley said, sounding exasperated, "That's a really bad word, Kaylee! You'll make mommy sad." Ms. Daniels, who had flicked the lights on, looked up at us, although she eventually zeroed in on me. "Kaylee, you've lost your free play tomorrow morning." I surprised myself by sticking out my tongue. "And I should care why exactly? I don't give a shit about playing with dolls or dressing up." Ms. Daniels smiled and quirked a brow. "Really? Even playing Frozen with your big sister? You had so much fun with her today." I shook my head repeatedly, trying desperately to remove the memory. A twenty-two year old man should not have enjoyed play acting scenes from a movie aimed at children. Yet, the memory was there, like a fresh wound on my battered masculinity. It's not like I even acted out any of the male parts o