Chapter 1
A blanket of clouds covered the sky. People with grim faces and black umbrellas walked down the sidewalks in tight crowds. Rain drizzled lightly on the steps leading up to a tall, dull apartment. Somewhere inside, on the third or fourth floor, sat a 24 year old woman in her small bedroom with curly red hair, pale green eyes, and the worst headache in the world.
In the kitchen was Alex, worried for her roommate. The headaches had been occurring frequently over the past week. She sat at the counter, tapping her fingers on the marble table. A groan sounded from her bedroom.
“Tylenol, Sadie?” her roommate called, holding up the tiny bottle and shaking it. The door creaked open slowly, revealing a dazed Sadie Miller.
“I’m going for a walk.” she muttered, walking towards the door.
“Don’t be long!” Alex called as the door to the apartment room closed with a soft thud.
--
Sadie stood, wavering slightly outside the brick apartment, looking into the crowd for an opening. Should’ve gotten an umbrella. She cursed under her breath, tugging her jacket sleeves nervously. She wouldn’t go back inside now. She walked down the steps, entering the crowded city of New York. To a normal passerby, she probably looked as though she was stumbling down the sidewalk, drunk out of her mind.
But in her mind she was in slow motion. Her mind was clouded. Her head pounded so loud that it made it hard to think. She squeezed her eyes shut and her breathing intensified. What’s happening to me? Am I dying? Is this a stroke? I’m too young to die, I still have too much to do. Get married, be a famous cook... Her vision blurred as she clumsily exited the crowd and threw up on the patch of grass in front of her. A short woman behind her scrunched up her nose and shouldered on past her, pushing her towards a pole. As she caught herself with her hands, her head stopped aching and the world turned dark.
She was inside an office building. Computers were lined up with black screens. A coffee machine sat in the corner. The lights were off. Outside was pitch black. Then, a dead body, eyes wide open and cold. A hole in his head. Blood splattered on his suit, but more pooling around his head. Gun in hand, dropped to the floor suddenly with a clank.The air was cold. Her ears rang. Silence.
Tears stung her eyes as they shot open. She untangled her arms from the pole slowly. The headache resumed. As she walked cautiously back to the apartment, dazed, she couldn’t stop thinking about the dead body. His eyes, cold and empty. His skin was so pale, it looked almost green. The gun had felt icy cold in her trembling hand.
She wondered who the man was. Perhaps he would have been famous. Maybe he had a lovely family, with children. Tears rolled down her cheeks as she walked up to her apartment door.
--
“Alex,” her voice trembled, closing the door behind her.
Her roommate, was still at the counter, completely indulged in her laptop. Her concentrated eyes scanned the screen in front of her.
She turned around in her chair all in one smooth action, looking at Sadie with an intrigued gaze.
“Alex… I think I killed somebody.”
Chapter 2
“Ma’am, we looked, and we’ve seen no proof that you killed anybody. In fact, the last death that occurred like the one you described happened before you were born, and was proven to be a suicide,” The officer explained, clearing his throat. Alex put her hand on her shoulder soothingly.
“I’ll tell you what. My sister had a real good therapist about a year ago. I can give you his number if you’d like.” He reached down into his pocket, pulling out a notepad and pen. Sadie nodded, though not entirely agreeing. She knew what she remembered.
--
“Hey Sades, don’t you have that interview today?” Alex asked as she walked into the kitchen to see Sadie at the counter eating Fruit Loops. “Mm.” Sadie nodded, shoving another spoonful into her mouth.
“Well, good luck. I’ve got work till 5, so don’t wait for me for dinner,” Alex said, slipping on black and white converse.
“Okay, see you soon. Love you!” Alex grinned, closing the door behind her. Finally. Alone. She stood up, leaving her bowl on the counter. Who cares about dirty dishes? I’m the only one here anyway. That was something that drove Alex crazy. Every time she’d return home, the apartment was a mess. Sorry Alex, got more important stuff to worry about today. She thought shamefully as she pulled on a dark grey suit over a white collared shirt. She had a job to get.
--
“So it went well? Do you think you got it?” Her mother’s voice sounded through her phone on speakerphone. The phone sat on the desk next to Sadie’s bed. Sadie leaned on the headboard of her bed, legs stretched out so her toes could touch the opposite side of the bed.
“Yeah, I guess. The interviewer told me he’d give me a call in about a week.”
“A week? Sounds fishy. Did he look sketchy?” Sadie rolled her eyes.
“No mom, there’s just a lot of qualified people that also got interviewed.”
“Just make sure you really want this job. It’s not too late to come back home to Arizona and work for your father like your brother plans on.” Her mother babbled on. Through her bedroom door Sadie could hear the door slam.
“Sorry mom, Alex is home. Tell dad I miss his cooking, and tell Ben he needs to stop trying to follow me on Instagram. I love you!” She hung up the phone.
“Hey Al!” she called, getting up out of bed.
“Hey Sades,” She peeked in through the door. Light from the kitchen shined into Sadie’s dark room.
“Hey, nice suit. How was the interview?” She walked in, plopping down on the bed. Sadie sat next to her.
“Not bad. How’s work?” As Alex went on about her job, Sadie’s mind wandered. It had been two weeks since the flashback. Since then, Sadie had tried to act as normal and happy as possible, though the vivid nightmares continued. Alex was never suspicious. For her, being normal was easy.
She was outgoing and chill, with dark brown skin, short braided hair and big dark brown eyes. She had known Alex since high school, and to this day Sadie still wondered if her mom wished she was her daughter. It’s not that Sadie was a bad daughter, she had perfect grades all through high school.
But so many therapist sessions, nights spent at the hospital, and long days where all Sadie would do was stare off into space. Most therapists had given up on her, saying she was incurable. Saying whatever experiment was put on her as a child messed up her brain to the point of no return.
While she was a baby, the scientists just started the human trials. They were trying to find a cure for PTSD and depression. They did this by editing people’s bad memories and replacing them with better ones. At least, that’s how her parents explained it to her. She didn’t actually know the science behind it.
Sadie was the second child experiment. They edited out a small part of her childhood and replaced it with someone in his late 20’s who had donated his memories for the experiment. She never knew why they wanted her to have this experiment. They told her parents that sometimes the effects didn’t occur until later in life, but she might have small anxiety symptoms throughout her entire life.
She was only 7 years old.
A blanket of clouds covered the sky. People with grim faces and black umbrellas walked down the sidewalks in tight crowds. Rain drizzled lightly on the steps leading up to a tall, dull apartment. Somewhere inside, on the third or fourth floor, sat a 24 year old woman in her small bedroom with curly red hair, pale green eyes, and the worst headache in the world.
In the kitchen was Alex, worried for her roommate. The headaches had been occurring frequently over the past week. She sat at the counter, tapping her fingers on the marble table. A groan sounded from her bedroom.
“Tylenol, Sadie?” her roommate called, holding up the tiny bottle and shaking it. The door creaked open slowly, revealing a dazed Sadie Miller.
“I’m going for a walk.” she muttered, walking towards the door.
“Don’t be long!” Alex called as the door to the apartment room closed with a soft thud.
--
Sadie stood, wavering slightly outside the brick apartment, looking into the crowd for an opening. Should’ve gotten an umbrella. She cursed under her breath, tugging her jacket sleeves nervously. She wouldn’t go back inside now. She walked down the steps, entering the crowded city of New York. To a normal passerby, she probably looked as though she was stumbling down the sidewalk, drunk out of her mind.
But in her mind she was in slow motion. Her mind was clouded. Her head pounded so loud that it made it hard to think. She squeezed her eyes shut and her breathing intensified. What’s happening to me? Am I dying? Is this a stroke? I’m too young to die, I still have too much to do. Get married, be a famous cook... Her vision blurred as she clumsily exited the crowd and threw up on the patch of grass in front of her. A short woman behind her scrunched up her nose and shouldered on past her, pushing her towards a pole. As she caught herself with her hands, her head stopped aching and the world turned dark.
She was inside an office building. Computers were lined up with black screens. A coffee machine sat in the corner. The lights were off. Outside was pitch black. Then, a dead body, eyes wide open and cold. A hole in his head. Blood splattered on his suit, but more pooling around his head. Gun in hand, dropped to the floor suddenly with a clank.The air was cold. Her ears rang. Silence.
Tears stung her eyes as they shot open. She untangled her arms from the pole slowly. The headache resumed. As she walked cautiously back to the apartment, dazed, she couldn’t stop thinking about the dead body. His eyes, cold and empty. His skin was so pale, it looked almost green. The gun had felt icy cold in her trembling hand.
She wondered who the man was. Perhaps he would have been famous. Maybe he had a lovely family, with children. Tears rolled down her cheeks as she walked up to her apartment door.
--
“Alex,” her voice trembled, closing the door behind her.
Her roommate, was still at the counter, completely indulged in her laptop. Her concentrated eyes scanned the screen in front of her.
She turned around in her chair all in one smooth action, looking at Sadie with an intrigued gaze.
“Alex… I think I killed somebody.”
Chapter 2
“Ma’am, we looked, and we’ve seen no proof that you killed anybody. In fact, the last death that occurred like the one you described happened before you were born, and was proven to be a suicide,” The officer explained, clearing his throat. Alex put her hand on her shoulder soothingly.
“I’ll tell you what. My sister had a real good therapist about a year ago. I can give you his number if you’d like.” He reached down into his pocket, pulling out a notepad and pen. Sadie nodded, though not entirely agreeing. She knew what she remembered.
--
“Hey Sades, don’t you have that interview today?” Alex asked as she walked into the kitchen to see Sadie at the counter eating Fruit Loops. “Mm.” Sadie nodded, shoving another spoonful into her mouth.
“Well, good luck. I’ve got work till 5, so don’t wait for me for dinner,” Alex said, slipping on black and white converse.
“Okay, see you soon. Love you!” Alex grinned, closing the door behind her. Finally. Alone. She stood up, leaving her bowl on the counter. Who cares about dirty dishes? I’m the only one here anyway. That was something that drove Alex crazy. Every time she’d return home, the apartment was a mess. Sorry Alex, got more important stuff to worry about today. She thought shamefully as she pulled on a dark grey suit over a white collared shirt. She had a job to get.
--
“So it went well? Do you think you got it?” Her mother’s voice sounded through her phone on speakerphone. The phone sat on the desk next to Sadie’s bed. Sadie leaned on the headboard of her bed, legs stretched out so her toes could touch the opposite side of the bed.
“Yeah, I guess. The interviewer told me he’d give me a call in about a week.”
“A week? Sounds fishy. Did he look sketchy?” Sadie rolled her eyes.
“No mom, there’s just a lot of qualified people that also got interviewed.”
“Just make sure you really want this job. It’s not too late to come back home to Arizona and work for your father like your brother plans on.” Her mother babbled on. Through her bedroom door Sadie could hear the door slam.
“Sorry mom, Alex is home. Tell dad I miss his cooking, and tell Ben he needs to stop trying to follow me on Instagram. I love you!” She hung up the phone.
“Hey Al!” she called, getting up out of bed.
“Hey Sades,” She peeked in through the door. Light from the kitchen shined into Sadie’s dark room.
“Hey, nice suit. How was the interview?” She walked in, plopping down on the bed. Sadie sat next to her.
“Not bad. How’s work?” As Alex went on about her job, Sadie’s mind wandered. It had been two weeks since the flashback. Since then, Sadie had tried to act as normal and happy as possible, though the vivid nightmares continued. Alex was never suspicious. For her, being normal was easy.
She was outgoing and chill, with dark brown skin, short braided hair and big dark brown eyes. She had known Alex since high school, and to this day Sadie still wondered if her mom wished she was her daughter. It’s not that Sadie was a bad daughter, she had perfect grades all through high school.
But so many therapist sessions, nights spent at the hospital, and long days where all Sadie would do was stare off into space. Most therapists had given up on her, saying she was incurable. Saying whatever experiment was put on her as a child messed up her brain to the point of no return.
While she was a baby, the scientists just started the human trials. They were trying to find a cure for PTSD and depression. They did this by editing people’s bad memories and replacing them with better ones. At least, that’s how her parents explained it to her. She didn’t actually know the science behind it.
Sadie was the second child experiment. They edited out a small part of her childhood and replaced it with someone in his late 20’s who had donated his memories for the experiment. She never knew why they wanted her to have this experiment. They told her parents that sometimes the effects didn’t occur until later in life, but she might have small anxiety symptoms throughout her entire life.
She was only 7 years old.