The Woodlands

I took a deep breath, the cool air stinging my lungs in a good way. The big question had to be asked. But I was scared of the answer. Joseph being here made no sense at all. I was never going to see him again and now he was sitting in front of me, looking worried, looking like he cared.

“What are you doing here?” I asked slowly. Wondering what possible answer he could give that would explain his presence here, my presence in the woods, the smoke, everything. What he said was beyond belief.

Casually, in his disarming ma

The bread stuck in my throat. I scrambled back, panicked, nearly putting my hands in the fire. “What?” I awkwardly heaved myself to my feet. “What are you talking about? That’s insane…but...that’s impossible.” I stumbled over my words, searching for one shred of sense in what Joseph had just said to me. Whatever happiness I felt at seeing him again was gone and replaced with suspicion. What did he want with me? Who were these other people? What new nightmare had I been dragged into?

I had roused the others with my yelling. Drowsy eyes stared at me across the fire. Clara was looking at me confused, still half asleep. Joseph was moving towards me, clearly worried, although I didn’t know if he was concerned for me or the thing inside me he thought was his. But he looked genuinely frightened, anguish showing on his face. Hands outstretched, flapping the air, he said, “Rosa, calm down, it’s ok, you’re safe now.”

I bent my knees, ready to run, “Don’t tell me to calm down, what you’re saying is ridiculous. What did you do to me? Are you one of them?” I heard my voice and it sounded crazy, like something had snapped inside my throat. I was shaking. I felt sick. I wanted to run, but I had nowhere to go. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a man with a needle in his hand approaching me. “Get back!” I screamed. This was not happening again. He kept inching closer. “Get back!” I screamed again. My voice was swallowed up in the darkness, no echo—it disappeared in the cold air. The man moved closer still. Joseph blocked him with his arm.

“Get away from her, don’t touch her!” he shouted forcefully.

I didn’t know what to do. A big part of me wanted to run to him. The other part of me wanted to hit him with a branch and run as fast as I could away from here. I didn’t feel like I could trust any of them.

“I told you not to tell her that way,” the man with the needle said. “She’s not the same girl you remember. She’s probably traumatized.” I looked to Joseph, that pain on his face again, an agonized, tortured look; I had seen him make that face once before. The man took steps towards me, still carrying the needle, trying to distract me as he approached. “You see, he’s been looking for you for a long time now…he...” he was still holding that needle. I took one step towards him and punched him in the face, as hard as I could. It hurt my hand. He over-balanced and fell backwards, nearly landing on top of one of the other people. The needle bounced into the fire.

Joseph laughed. “See. I told you she had attitude!” he said as he leaned over to pull the man up to his feet. I realized then that he was not a man. He was a boy, no older than Joseph. Tall and thin, with dark black, spiky hair and a smooth, high-boned face. I was still standing, fists up, ready to knock out the next person who came near me, feeling like a cornered animal.

“Whoa, Rosa, it’s me, can’t you at least let me explain?” he pleaded.

“Clara?” I looked to her for answers; she nodded, not saying a word. It was her way of saying, yes, let him talk. He held out his hand and I took it, eyeing him reproachfully. His eyes were hopeful. The moment our hands touched, memories jolted through me like electricity: His warm arms around me, hands touching as we lifted into the air, talking, smiling. Other memories appeared too, being deserted, having my heart broken. I dropped my hand.

“What can you possibly say that could explain any of this?” I gestured around me and back to my belly. I looked down to see I was back in my Class uniform, which now sat above my belly button, my cotton gown poking out from underneath the band like a curtain, hiding my disgraceful form. Someone dressed me. I was livid.

“Did someone dress me while I was asleep?” I asked, thinking, just give me an excuse and I’ll knock your lights out. My eyes were sca

Joseph’s face flushed red. Then he gri

I glared at all of them, hoping I could sear them in half with my vision. When no one confessed, I awkwardly tried to ease myself down onto a log. It was getting harder and harder to do even the simplest of things without the leech getting in the way. Joseph reached out to help me but I smacked his hand away. I felt like I needed a force field around me, no one touching me until I knew what they really wanted. Ungracefully, I levered my form to the ground and sat facing him.

Everyone was watching us. I noticed a familiar face in the group. Apella was there, and a man was sitting with her, his hand on her knee. She was leaning her head on his shoulder. Clara was leaning back on her elbows, looking as wistful as ever. Nothing ever seemed to get to her, at least, not the way it got to me. Then there was Joseph and his friend, who was nursing a cut on his left forearm courtesy of me knocking him over a rock. He didn’t seem too affected either. Joseph was the only one who looked concerned, no, more than concerned. He look genuinely in pain, his face flickered back and forth between relief and anguish.

“So…?” I challenged, “Tell me! Tell me the truth.”

“What do you remember?” he asked.

“I remember working at the Classes, doing well in my class. I remember....” I touched my hand to my face. “Getting in trouble. Then waking up in a room, drugged and pregnant. Oh, and I remember your letter,” I replied.

“Oh. I guess it was too much to hope that had been erased from your memory. I’m sorry, Rosa, I thought it was the right thing to do. I wanted you to be happy and not hold onto something we could never have. I shouldn’t have done it, but by the time I had decided to tell you the truth, you had disappeared,” he confessed. I wanted it to be true, my whole being ached for it to be true, but there was so much unexplained.

“You know, he never gave up. I tried to tell him it was no use but he risked everything to find you,” the boy with the needle interrupted.

I glared at him.

“Deshi, will you shut up!” Joseph sounded frustrated, his voice strained. Maybe he was hanging by the same thin thread of sanity that I was clinging to.

Deshi shut his mouth and kept it that way.

“Well, working forward from what you remember, I can tell you what I know.” He took a deep breath and launched into the story. “You know I was accepted into Medical, right?” I nodded. I remembered seeing him hanging around outside the medical building with his white coat on, talking to other Uppers. “Well, Deshi and I and a few other kids were pulled into a specialist group, dealing specifically with infertility. It was all very secretive and we were required to supply a DNA sample at the start of every morning as a security clearance.” I recalled the two men in white pushing their fingers into the goo when they were trying to release the security doors. “We were being allowed access to all sorts of information but were told our lives were over if we told anyone what was going on. Apella here was one of our teachers.” I looked over at her. She smiled shyly. She seemed too lacking in confidence to be a teacher or a doctor. I had always assumed she was just a lackey in our situation. The deceptions were unfolding, like a tightly crumpled letter, each crease revealing a new unknown, scrawled part I thought I had read but now, no longer understood.