 
CONTENTS

CHAPTER 1: CONVERSION

CHAPTER 2: SESSION 1

CHAPTER 3: SESSION 5

CHAPTER 4: SOPHIE

CHAPTER 5: PERFECT STRANGER

CHAPTER 6: BROKEN FEAR

CHAPTER 7: CLOSER

CHAPTER 8: EMBRACE

CHAPTER 9: MAGICAL MUSIC

CHAPTER 10: DECISION

CHAPTER 11: CROSSROADS

CHAPTER 12: MYSTERY UNFOLDING

**The Conversion  
** By DK Fire

Published by DK Fire at Smashwords

Copyright 2017 DK Fire

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CONVERSION

Today is my eighteenth birthday, and finally, my birthday wish is becoming a reality.

Five days ago, the Conversion pilot project was announced. I can't believe it! After months of anticipation, the pilot is finally up and running. The Ultima Center was seeking five willing and able participants to take part in the final testing stage of this revolutionary new in vivo technology project. When I first heard about the Conversion, I put my name on the list of nominees to be considered for a place on the pilot right away. I couldn't have been happier or more surprised when not only was it announced the Pilot was to become a reality but received notification that I was to be one of those chosen to undergo the Conversion.

For all long, as I can remember, I've wanted to end my wretched existence. The Conversion pilot is a long awaited dark dream come true. My successful nomination means that I can bring to an end my pathetic life, and in exchange receive lots of cold, hard cash knowing that my life will go to someone who really wants to live.

I'm standing in front of a gray, windowless building, under a towering, black sign that spells out, Ultima Center. To me, gray and black are the colors of sadness. They go well together. The building reminds me of one of those abandoned, structures in Chernobyl, the site of a nuclear tragedy that happened way before my time. Chernobyl is now a modern day ghost town that came up in my search engine when I was trying to find the most depressing places on earth.

I take a deep breath and move purposefully forward towards the large frosted glass double doors of the Ultima Center. The wind blows my hair across my face, and it annoys me. I angrily search for a hair tie in my hoodie pocket, then pull my long brown hair back into a hastily fashioned, messy ponytail. The charcoal color of my grubby hoodie, stained here and there with black marks of indeterminate origin, echoes the building's depressing color scheme and looming menace.

The sky is blanketed with gray clouds. I close my eyes and breathe in the fresh air before the rain. I love that smell. I'm hesitant to go inside. My heart is racing. My hands are starting to get cold, so I rub them against my jeans to warm them up. "Get moving," I say to myself.

Still, my nervousness is almost overwhelming as I pass through the frosted glass doors. My body trembles a little, and my breath catches with each step I take. Once in the foyer I look around and am pleasantly surprised by the welcoming quiet. I of all people can appreciate this place of silent, isolation set in the middle of nowhere, up a bleak and grimy road edged with half-dried bushes and skirted by delinquent, tumbleweeds.

I need to keep it together; otherwise, I could not only miss my appointment but worse, stuff up and lose my place on the pilot. I take deliberate and determined steps across the marble floor of the empty foyer. Glancing first to my right, I look down a long corridor towards a pair of double white frosted doors at a distance of 50 meters. I turn back to my left and see a small, fifty-something woman in a nurse's uniform seated behind an antique white desk with a sign at the front saying Reception Desk. Aside from the woman at the reception desk, the hall is empty. Very slowly, almost tiptoeing, I make my way in her direction. She does not move. Her eyes are fixed on a large computer screen in front of her. I stop for a second and check my phone to make sure I have the right place and time.

"Can I help you?" she finally asks as I scroll through my phone. I stare at her wrinkly face and can't seem to get a word out. Scanning her face from forehead to chin I eventually force out an "Umm..." I feel as if I have swallowed my tongue.

"Do you have an appointment with us?" she asks directly, sensing my uncertainty.

"Yes, I think I do," I say softly, putting my hands on the reception desk.

"Great." She gazes at me over the top of her reading glasses.

"What's your name?" she turns her eyes back to the monitor.

"Alina Bruhler," I mutter.

"Can you repeat that?"

She leans forward in an attempt to hear me better.

"Alina Bruhler," I say after clearing my throat, "I have an appointment for two o'clock,"

"Let's see. Yes, I have you here with Dr. Deanna Kismen. I will let her know you are here; please take a seat."

She nods in the direction of a couch that I don't recall seeing when I stepped in.

I sit down and place my backpack on the floor. I nervously run my hands over on the soft leather of the couch and look nervously around at the bare tiled walls. Gray, of course, there are no pictures, no photographs. The only furniture in the hall is the couch I'm sitting on and the reception desk and chair. The hall is literally a long gray box with four walls and an extremely high ceiling. I wish there was a glass roof that could let in the natural light. I guess they decided to make this place as depressing and impersonal as possible.

I notice an odd smell that begins to fill my nose. It's hard to describe the scent, but somehow it evokes sadness. I take another breath and try to identify the unusual smell when suddenly, out of nowhere, I feel my anxiety rising again.

I put my hands on my head and try to calm down.

"Alina Bruhler?" a female voice asks in a friendly yet sharp tone.

I tilt my head up and see an attractive woman, probably in her mid-thirties. She doesn't look like a doctor to me—more like an elementary school teacher. She has a beautiful, innocent-looking baby face. I admire her olive skin and stunning brown eyes, her extremely long eyelashes and the tiny wrinkles on her forehead. Her straight brown hair is pulled neatly into a bun. She is wearing a gray long-sleeve turtleneck with a black pencil skirt. Gray and black. What other colors would I see here? She is holding a stack of plastic cards.

"Yes, that's me," I murmur as I stand up.

"My name is Doctor Deanna Kismen," she says, extending her hand to me "Welcome to the Ultima Center. I will be your doctor during the process."

She seems nice.

I give her my hand and stare at her long eyelashes, trying to determine if they are real.

"Oh! Your hand is so cold! Is it still chilly outside?" she asks while shaking my hand.

"Yes, it is," I answer automatically, even though the truth is that it's not the temperature outside that made my hand cold, but rather my anxiety.

"Hopefully it will warm up this weekend," says Dr. Kismen. "We need to discuss a few things, so please follow me to my office."

She turns to the gray doors behind the reception desk, swipes one of her cards and doors swish open as we approach. We walk side by side along the long corridor. Dr. Kismen ushers me through as if to make sure I'm right there with her.

I hear nothing but our footsteps as we walk. We pass a few doors that have name signs on them before reaching Dr. Kismen's office. She swipes a card to unlock the door to her office.

Her office has the same depressing aesthetic as the rest of the building—gray walls with no windows and no pictures. This whole Ultima Center screams sadness.

There is a black file folder on Dr. Kismen's desk with my name printed on it, which I read upside-down and the word "Dator" handwritten in brackets next to my surname. I wonder what the word means. Maybe I should ask her about it.

"Please Alina, sit down," Dr. Kismen says as she gestures to the chair next to the desk."Is it all right if I call you Alina or would you prefer to be called something else?" she asks, simultaneously turning on her computer screen and opening my file.

No one has ever asked me that before. An interesting question causes me to wonder what the right answer should be. My little brother calls me Lina. My mother, on the other hand, has always had plenty of unkind names for me, including "waste of space,""useless,""idiot," and "dumb.

"Alina is fine, I guess."

I force my lips into a smile.

"What does 'Dator' mean?"

My question seems to catch her off-guard.

"It means 'giver' in Latin," she answers.

This makes perfect sense to me; I'm here to give my life away, hence, I'm a Dator. Why do doctors always use fancy Latin terms, when nobody knows what they mean?

"Anyhow, Alina, let's start by going over your medical portfolio and then we can set up the date for your conversion to take place as soon as possible."

"Sure."

Excitement and fear of the unknown combined to cause my throat to constrict and the voice comes squeakily, high pitched. Conversion is the day when my life is taken away from me, and given to a person who has paid for it.

Dr. Kismen considers my reaction intensely as if expecting me to back out of the arrangement then continues. "Let's start at the beginning. First, I need to take you through a basic questionnaire." She reads quickly down the first page in my file. "Can you please confirm your date of birth?" Dr. Kismen asks.

"Um...September 15..." Dr. Kismen interrupts me, saying "Oh! Today is your birthday! Happy birthday, Alina."

"Thank you." It is the first birthday wish I've received today.

"I'm eighteen today," I say.

Legally, you have to be eighteen years old to sign a LifeTrans contract to sell your life.

"Great. Let's continue." She pauses "Eye color, green, hair color, brown, height, 5 feet 4 inches, and weight, 110 pounds. Is that correct?" Dr. Kismen looks up from my file, and I notice that she has beautiful brown eyes flexed with traces of gold. Tilting her head slightly Dr. Kismen studies me as if reading my body language. As she focuses her attention on me, I am struck by the fact that she is classically beautiful. Her flawless skin glows with just a touch of makeup. Dr. Kismen is perfect, just like a golden-eyed goddess.

"Yes, yes, and yes," I answer, struggling to find my thoughts and put them into words, distracted and perhaps even mesmerized by Dr. Kismen's perfection.

She turns the first page of my file.

"Excellent, I have your physiological and genetic test results here as well. Your results were excellent, so there is no need to go over them, though," she says.

"I see you've chosen option number two. Your preparation procedures will all take place as part of the day-program at Ultima, which means you will come to the Centre each day, is this correct?" She asks, looking up from my file.

"How many days will the preparation process take?" I ask. I thought the Conversion was a one-day thing, but perhaps I was mistaken.

Ignoring my question, she says, "I need to let you know that you have another option. You can stay at Ultima full-time for the complete preparation process and the Conversion. We can provide a room with a private bathroom. All meals are included."

Given the prevailing sense of sadness, I'm not too keen on staying at the Centre besides I want to spend as much time as I can with my little brother.

"Thanks for the offer, Dr. Kismen," I say, "but I rather not stay here,"

"Well, you still have until tomorrow to change your mind." Dr. Kismen pushes back.

I remain quiet.

"On to the important stuff now: have you set up your trust fund?" Dr. Kismen asks.

"Yes, I have. I set it up under my brother's name: Micah Bruhler." Saying Micah's name makes me smile. Thoughts of my brother always do. Even though only 9 years old, he's extremely smart.

"As you know Alina, the Conversion is a pilot project and hasn't been fully tested. As you signed-off on the Terms and Conditions section of the contract at this stage we just need you to verbally confirm that you fully understand all the risks involved?" she asks me with the somber face.

I find this an interesting question at this late stage in the process. What could be worse than death for most humans?

"I don't know if I do. Can you please clarify what happens with the Trust funds if anything goes wrong?" I ask.

"Well, if the Conversion is successful, your trustee gets the full amount of the trust funding."

"What if it's not successful and I die?" I say, starting to feel anxious and concerned.

"In that case, your brother would receive half of the trust funds, and the other half would be used to reimburse the person who paid for your life." Dr. Kismen once again studies me closely, to gauge my reaction.

"And, what if I live?" I ask timidly.

"In that case, you would not receive any payment," Dr. Kismen answers simply, and then lowers her head.

"Listen Alina, the Conversion will be successful."

Her eyes drift to the side, and she's clearly trying to avoid an eye contact with me. I can hear the doubt in her voice. At this point, however, I have no choice but to believe her.

We are quiet for a few moments. So many things are going through my mind right now. I'm startled as Dr. Kismen breaks the silence.

"Your conversion date is set for October 16, which is 31 days from today. I'm going to take you through a couple of details regarding the preparation process for the Conversion—the time period before the Conversion we call the 'preparation process,'" she clarifies, typing something into her computer.

"What?" I ask, disappointed. "Is there any way to have it done sooner? I had no idea this would take so long, and I'm not sure I will be able to wait. I must get it done as soon as possible."

"I understand how dreadful waiting can be, but, unfortunately, at this stage, the Conversion takes 30 days. Your neurological, physiological and emotional systems need this time to go through all the stages of the preparation process so that your life can be successfully transferred to the Receiver." Dr. Kismen responds firmly, clearly wanting to close the discussion.

"Fine," I reluctantly reply.

Dr. Kismen raises a finely defined eyebrow and waits for me to ask her another question.

"So, what is the preparation process all about?" I ask, slightly irritated after the recent snub. I open my eyes wide in an attempt to concentrate on Dr. Kismen's explanation. "And, can you explain it to me as simply as possible?" I really want to understand, and if she starts using medical terms, I'm more than likely to get lost and miss something important.

"Certainly, that's not a problem," Dr. Kismen says. "In a nutshell, the Conversion happens through a virtual system called 'Mentior,' which makes it possible to transfer the life energy from one person to another." She pauses. "In order for the Conversion to happen, 'Mentior' first needs to gather all your memories into a single virtual space called the Memory Shelf."

Dr. Kismen watches me closely to make sure I'm still following what she is explaining.

"I don't get it," I admit. I never did well at school, and it's hard for me to comprehend things sometimes.

"Have you ever heard the expression, "I saw my life flash before my eyes?"Dr. Kismen inquires.

"Sure."

"There is a term for that: it's called a 'life review,' and that's what the preparation process is."

"OK..."

I try to process the information.

"Essentially, the preparation process is a life review," says Dr. Kismen, repeating herself, clearly for my benefit. "A life review is a phenomenon that occurs during near-death experiences in which a person rapidly sees much or the totality of their life history."

I try to gather my thoughts and get my head around what she is saying.

"So, you're telling me I'll be seeing my memories before the Conversion happens?" I ask, hoping that she'll say no.

"That's almost right!"

Dr. Kismen sounds pleased at my progress. "Simply put, Mentior needs to access your brain to collect all your memories, which then get put into one shelf in your brain that we call Memory Shelf. After that, on the day of the Conversion, your memories get destroyed—or, perhaps, 'erased' is a better term—and then your life gets transferred to the Receiver."

"Will the person who gets my life have access to my memories?" I ask with caution.

"No, no," Dr. Kismen replies. "Your memories are erased completely on the Conversion day."

Dr. Kismen bites her lip and then continues. "In order to make this whole process happen, you will be connected to Mentior and begin reliving your memories. Currently, the procedure takes 30 days, but we are working on reducing the time of the preparation process. Very soon, we hope, it will only take a day—or even better an hour—to complete the preparation."

"Well, I'll be dead by then!" I say sarcastically and grinning.

Frankly, I would love to forget all my memories. Reliving them will be torture for me. My dumb luck! Why does everything in my life have to involve pain? I can't even die without it.

But, then again: what do I have to lose at this point?

Dr. Kismen can see my frustration and discouragement.

"The preparation process will probably be one of the most challenging times of your life," she concedes, "but it's necessary. Listen Alina, I don't want to pressure you into anything."

"So I will be reliving my memories as they are happening again?" I ask.

Dr. Kismen nods.

I remain quiet for few minutes, staring at the blank wall behind the desk. I am petrified and sickened to the point of nausea at the mere thought of experiencing all the humiliations and pain again.

"I understand it can be difficult..."

Dr. Kismen senses my distress.

"No, I'm good. I'm fine," I finally say.

I have to remember Micah. I have to give him a better life. He deserves to be happy.

"I want to do it."

I can feel my voice quavering as I say the words.

"Great! Then we can start the process immediately" Dr. Kismen says, pleased that she was able to close the deal. "You will be spending full days here at Ultima Center beginning tomorrow. Your first appointment is for 8 am, please don't be late."

She hands me a card with the appointment time written on it.

"I won't be late," I say.

I take the card, open my backpack, grab my diary, and put the card inside.

"Excellent. I will give you more information before our first session tomorrow. When you come in tomorrow, ask for me at the reception. Do you have any other questions?" she asks.

"I don't."

I can't think of anything right now as I'm still spinning from what I've been told. I also get shy when it comes to asking questions, makes me feel like I'm a nuisance.

"Wonderful. Then I will see you tomorrow, Alina. Welcome to the program." Dr. Kismen gets up from her chair and heads toward the door.

"I'll walk you out, Alina."

We leave her office and walk down the hall. She swipes her card to let me out and extends her hand.

"It was nice to meet you, Alina."

"You as well," I respond indifferently, shaking her hand.

Dr. Kismen turns around and walks towards her office. The door to reception is half open, and all I need to do is take a step forward and leave. But I can't—I feel as if I'm rooted to the floor. What am I doing here? Is this the right decision?

Of course, it is! My life only consists of nothing but pain and agony. I will never be able to fight this depression—it's been with me as far back as I can remember. But what if things get better? What if I meet someone who can be my friend and who can help me through? What if all I need to do is to escape? Micah and I could just run away together and start a new life. I know that this moment of enlightenment will not last long, soon a big dark cloud will drop like a shutter across my mind, and I will draw deeply into my depression again. It's like drowning slowly in a sea of sadness and pain. It's easy to change your clothes, where you live, but it's impossible to run away from a depressive state.

My hands are shaking. Very quietly, I turn around and walk cautiously back to Dr. Kismen's office. I want to tell her I've changed my mind.

When I reach her office, the door is slightly open, and I hear her voice. I know I should knock, but my curiosity is killing me. I slow down and very carefully lean forward in the hope of hearing what she's saying.

"Yes, Mrs. Holding, that's right. I just met her, and it's a perfect match."

I'm sure she's talking about me.

"Can you come by with your son at 8 am tomorrow morning to Novus Center?" Dr. Kismen asks, "Do you need directions?"

I know what building she's talking about. It's located in a beautiful area of the city, on the edge of the lake. I remember when it was being built. I've passed by it a few times, admiring its modern architecture. It takes the shape of the rising sun, which, to me, symbolizes hope. The Center is covered with faceted glass panels attached to free lines and that twist and turns in the wind so that the whole facade shifts and moves during the day.

"Very well," Dr. Kismen continues. "Yes, tomorrow, that's right! It is very soon." There was a pause.

"I know, it's good news we were able to find someone."

I should not be listening, but I can't help it. I want to know more.

"There is no blood relation, and the subject's expected life span at Conversion is estimated to be about 50 years. I know the lifespan could have been longer, but we just can't wait for another Dator of this quality."

My hands are shaking, and I'm about to knock on Dr. Kismen's door when I suddenly think of the person who's waiting to receive my life. Is it fair to them to change my mind? In the end, their life is certainly more valuable than mine. I'm not satisfied with my existence, I really don't feel like fighting anymore to just survive only to endure more pain. Signing the LifeTrans contract has to the best decision I've ever made.

With that thought, I lower my hand, turn, and stumble to the exit. I keep my head down while walking past the reception desk.

"See you tomorrow," the receptionist says.

"Yes," I say softly. "See you then."

It's drizzling outside. I love the cleansing feeling of rain on my face. I close my eyes and stand in the rain for a few minutes. I walk towards the bus shelter. As I get closer, I see a woman who is probably in her 30s or 40s waiting for a bus. Most likely she's in her 30s—if she's a Dator like me, she can't be 40. Conversion participants have to be between the ages of eighteen and thirty-nine. The younger you are, the longer your lifespan is. The price tag for a young life is quite high. I'm happy at the thought of the money that will go into my trust fund, and that will be released after the Conversion. It will be enough for Micah to get on his feet, pay for his education, and even buy a decent house. I wonder how much this woman got for her life? Not much, I'll bet, given she is much older than me

I see that her red eyes are full of sadness and sorrow as she stares at me. I quickly turn away; she gives me an uncomfortable feeling. I step away from her slightly, hoping that she won't start a conversation with me. I don't want to talk to anyone. I certainly don't want her to share her distress with me. The bus approaches, and I let her get on first so that I can sit in front of her and not be bothered by her presence.

As I step onto the bus, the driver looks at me, and his eyes fill up with grief—somehow he knows my situation, and he feels sorry for me.

The woman takes a seat in the middle of the bus, so I make myself comfortable in an empty disabled place for one at the front. I put on my headphones, doze off, and lose myself in my music.

By the time I wake up, I'm the only one left on the bus.

"Last stop, city center!" the bus driver yells, trying to wake me up.

"Thank you," I say, as I get off the bus.

A short ride on the subway and then I will be home—well, the place where I sleep, anyway. I can't even call it home; hell is a more appropriate word for it.

Thankfully, Micah should be there by now. I'll get to see and talk to him. Only he can get me through the next 30 days.

By the time I get out of the subway, the rain has stopped, and the clouds are no longer gray. The sun is starting to set, its rays creating beautiful colored patterns across the sky. I love that the clouds are transforming into beautiful masterpieces as if the celebration of my last days.

I slow down and breathe in the fresh air. I never noticed before how wonderful and pure this time of the year can be.

I turn onto my street and count the steps to my house. I hate the street my house is on, ugly and dirty as it is, there is nothing pleasant about it.

My heart is beating fast in anticipation of another violent fight waiting to explode at home.

Here I am, standing in front of a gray run-down house that was built decades ago—it's deplorable. My mother got this two-bedroom shack after my grandmother, whom I never knew, passed away. I was too young to remember my mother's mother, but I've heard she wasn't a nice person.

I open my backpack and reach for my key, dreading the moment of facing my mother. Hesitantly I open the front door and pray to God that my mother is not there.

As soon as I walk through the door, I inhale the strong stench of smoke and booze. This poisonous mixture has been the smell of misery and suffering throughout my pathetic life.

"Is that you?" I hear mother's drunken voice slur from the living room. I quietly place my bag on the floor and hope to sneak into the bedroom without talking to her. No such luck. I hear mother getting up off the couch and walking towards me. With each step, my anxiety grows, feeling like a ball inside my stomach that is growing bigger and bigger.

"Is that you, you little brat?"

I gather what courage I have left in my heart to face this woman-my mother.

"Yes, Gloria."

She stands right in front of me. Years of binge drinking has shaped her face into a puffy mess surrounding sunken eyes.

"Where have ya been, conniving girl?" she says, slurring her words.

She blocks my way, and I have no choice but to answer her.

"Out," I say, gritting my teeth.

The less I speak, the less agitated she will become.

"Yeah, I know you've been out, that's obvious!"

Her voice had risen to a shout. She coughs smoke in my face.

"What do you want, Gloria?"

My body and voice shiver in unison. I can't even bring myself to call her "mother" because to me she's not. It's true she gave birth to me, but that doesn't mean anything. She doesn't deserve to be a mother. How is it possible that she got to have kids when there are so many wonderful people in the world that can't have children? Why did God pick Gloria to be my mother?

"What do I want'? Repeat that, you waste of space!" she screams, grabbing my arm.

I know what this means—she's going to do it. She rolls up my sleeve, takes a final puff of her cigarette, glares at me, and then puts it out on my arm—on my bare skin. She throws the crumpled cigarette on the floor.

This time, however, I don't scream. I try not to let the fear and pain affect the expression on my face. I try to focus on the thought that this is just going to leave another scar on my arm, but not on my heart. The scar marks are part of me now. I don't wear short-sleeved shirts or pretty dresses that might show my bare arms. I don't want anyone to see the scars that cover my arms and know about the abuse I experience on a daily basis.

"You deserve this, "she mumbles.

I remain quiet. All I want is for her to get out of my way.

"I know I do. I'm sorry," I say.

"Are you gonna tell me where ya been?" Gloria presses for an answer.

"I'm sorry, I've been out. It's my birthday."

I force myself to concentrate on the cigarette lying on the floor—it's not completely out. I imagine what I would do if it started a fire—I would grab Micah and run away, leaving Gloria to burn in her filth and anger.

"It's your birthday, huh?" Gloria sneers.

"Yes," I say, the tears starting to form in my eyes.

I have to stay strong; I can't show her any weakness.

"Who cares? You..."—Gloria burps loudly—"forgot to pick up Micah from school. So your elderly, sick ma," she says, pointing a finger at herself, "had to walk so far to pick him up! Do you realize how hard that is for me?"

She staggers.

An old message to myself flashes into my mind, "Yes Mother, I know my whole being is inconvenient for you!" but I manage only to reluctantly say,

"Yes, I know. I'm very sorry. It won't happen again," while keeping my eyes fixed on the floor and picturing the fire spreading through the house.

"Your birthday, huh?" Gloria says. "And how old are you? Drinking age yet?"

She laughs. She's got the evilest laugh you will ever hear, and I hate hearing it. Her dry, wheezy laugh emphasizes the emptiness of my whole reality. I'm scared to death to look up.

"I'm eighteen."

I want this conversation to be over. I want to hold Micah and let him know how much I missed him and how his life is going to change forever very soon.

"Eighteen? It's time for you to get a job," she grumbles angrily. "Actually—" She pauses. Throws up in her mouth and casually wipes vomit from her lips with the back of her hand. "You know now that you are eighteen you'd better start paying rent. I'm sick and tired of providing for you and your little brother."

Providing for us? She must be joking. All she's done is drink and collect government checks!

"I know," I say, trying to play along with her and tell her what she wants to hear. "I'm trying to find a job, and I promise I will pay you at the end of the month."

"Good! You should!"

She slowly turns around and shuffles back into the living room, stumbling over a smelly garbage bag, causing it to spill its contents of empty beer bottles and cigarettes butts across the floor.

I glance at her, and it terrifies me. How is it a mother can hate her children so much? Has she ever been happy? Seeing this woman—who looks twice her age, wearing an old oversized black sweater with puke stains all over it and dirty brown sweatpants that haven't been washed in ages—only confirms that I'm making the right decision.

Gloria drops her heavy body onto the couch—like a piece of rotten meat hitting a butcher's slab—and drinks a whole bottle of beer in one go.

I quickly grab my bag off the floor and run towards the bedroom.

Opening the door, I see Micah at the little desk in the corner doing his homework. I come up behind him and lock him in my arms.

God, I love him!

"Lina! You're home!" Micah claps his hands. He jumps up from the chair and gives me the biggest hug. I start to cry—I don't want to let go of him. We have such limited time together left. Maybe it's a good thing that the Conversion takes 30 days, it will give me more time with my precious Micah.

"I'm so sorry I couldn't pick you up from school today, "I say, wiping the tears from my face.

"Lina, please don't let her near me," Micah begs.

"I won't. I will be there tomorrow," I say, trying to figure out what time my preparation procedure will be over. "Can I ask you to do me a favor, though?"

"What is it?" Micah asks.

"Do you remember you were telling me about your school friend Bennett?"

"Yes, he's my only friend," Micah admits sadly. "I hate that school! It's the worst school ever! I don't want to go there anymore! Why do we have to live here with her?" Micah yells in despair.

I need to give him hope and above all calm him down.

"I swear that very soon you won't have to go to that school anymore. You will be back with your grandparents, I promise!" I touch his beautiful, soft curly hair. His beautiful green eyes, full of hopelessness and gloom, just like mine, break my heart.

"You promise?" he asks, seeking reassurance.

"I promise," I say, kissing him fondly on the cheek. "At the end of the month, you will be back with them."

I love Micah's grandparents—I wish I could have known my own. Gloria had children with two different men. As far as I know, she never actually figured out who my biological father was. There were too many men sniffing around her during the time she became pregnant with me. Micah's dad disappeared as soon as he was born. Gloria gave Micah her last name. When he was a year old, his grandparents on his dad's side took on the responsibility of raising him and me, since Gloria was nowhere to be found. She was probably drinking under a bridge somewhere. We had had the greatest year with them until Gloria decided to storm back into our lives and ruin everything. She needed us to live with her again in order to get government assistance checks as a single parent. On top of it, Micah's grandparents couldn't keep supporting us, raising two kids took a huge toll on their finances. They had to give us up as they literally had no means to feed us. I can't wait until my LifeTrans money comes through and will go to help Micah and his grandparents.

"I love you, Micah," I say with a sigh. "I promise things will be wonderful for you soon."

I pause, remembering what I need him to do.

"About Bennett," I say, "could you please ask Bennett if you can stay at his place after school tomorrow for an hour or so?" I'm terrified of not making it to his school the next day in time to pick him up, and then my "elderly" mother would be called and have to pick him up.

"OK, I will ask him tomorrow. By the way, happy birthday!" he says lovingly, giving me a smile. "I've made something for you." From his desk, he grabs a little handmade card with a big red heart painted on it. He had written my name using white crayons inside the heart, and underneath it, the message, "Happy birthday to the best sister on the planet."

My heart melts, and although I try very hard to keep from crying, tears are streaming down my cheeks in minutes

"Thank you, darling! This is so wonderful," I sob. I take the card and hold it against my heart. I don't want to disappoint Micah. I'm sure he will be devastated to know that I will be gone forever soon, but eventually, he will forgive me—he has to. Once he is older, he will know that I left him in order to give him a better life and a future worth living.

I reach into my backpack for my diary and put the card inside it. The diary has nothing written in it, but it holds "my heart"—the card from Micah, his baby picture and the appointment card from the Ultima Center.

"Text me tomorrow to let me know about Bennett," I say, pulling myself together.

"I will," he answers absently, sitting back down to bury himself in his homework once again.

In the next couple of hours, I help Micah with his math project and later tuck him into bed. I hold him in my arms and listen to his breathing as he falls into a deep sleep

There is one last thing I need to do before sleeping myself- I need to make sure Gloria has put out all of her cigarettes. She is always falling asleep with them still burning between her fingers, on the edge of the armchair or in the ashtray

I tiptoe into the living room. The TV is still on, of course, and Gloria is passed out on the couch. There are no lit cigarettes lying around. I leave Gloria face-down on the couch lying in her own dirt.

Thank God, I won't ever have to see her face again in just 30 short days.

SESSION 1

Waking up this morning, it takes me a few minutes to get my thoughts together. I'm anxious—I need to get used to the idea that I have only 30 days to live. I wish the Conversion would only take a day, that way I wouldn't have time for any doubts or to second guess myself

Micah is still sleeping. I watch him, noticing the slightest movement, and I try to memorize every feature of his beautiful face. I'm happy just being near him. Gloria never got furniture for our bedroom, so when Micah and I found a bed on the side of the road, we dragged it home for our own. It is a good one, but unfortunately, it's only a single. Thankfully, both Micah and I are tiny. We fit perfectly together on the bed. Still, he is going to grow up soon, and this bed will be too small for him. I cannot wait for him to have all the essential things of life and more.

At the moment we can't even take a shower as we don't have any water. Gloria didn't bother to pay water bill last month. She chose to spend all the money on booze and cigarettes instead. I grab the slightly crumpled clothes that I wore yesterday—black tank top, gray hoodie, and my only pair of jeans—from the chair we have set up next to our bed. We have two chairs in our bedroom that act as our closets.

I sneak into the kitchen to make Micah a quick breakfast and lunch to go. We still have a few groceries left in the cupboard. I'd managed to steal $50 from Gloria's purse when she cashed her government check earlier this month and bought some groceries that I stashed at the back of the pantry.

Gloria is of course still passed out on the couch. Her snoring is so loud that sometimes I think our neighbors can hear it.

I love walking Micah to school—we talk about everything. Often, we imagine what our lives would be like without Gloria. In our imaginary world, we picture a new home that is clean and has a lot of natural light. We visualize Christmas dinners with Micah's grandparents, great food, and friends dropping by. In our minds-eyes, we both see clearly the big, glittering Christmas tree and the presents underneath it. Micah dreams of getting a brand new bike, and I have set my heart on a bright red scooter. We hear laughter and music.

We arrive at his school—it's depressing, just like everything else in my life. The grounds are dirty, full of garbage. The exterior hasn't been renovated in a very long time. I wish the government would invest more money into helping poor neighborhoods. On the other hand, none of these things should be bothering me too much anymore. Next month Micah will be going to a much better school, and he will have many friends that will care about him the same way I do.

"So, you won't forget to let me know about Bennett, right?" I ask Micah, handing him his backpack.

"I will, Lina. Thanks for walking me to school and sharing the day dreaming."

Micah grabs his backpack, fixes his jacket, and locks eyes with me. He is waiting for a kiss.

I lean towards him, softly touch his nose, and then suddenly give him the biggest smooch first on his cheek and then his neck. We both laugh. Micah is extremely ticklish.

"Gotta go!" Micah giggles and waves to me.

I wait until he goes inside and then rush to the bus stop.

A long journey on the bus and I'm back at the Ultima Center at sitting in Dr. Kismen's office.

"Good morning Alina. Did you want anything before we begin?" Dr. Kismen asks.

"No, I'm fine," I'm extremely nervous and wonder what memory I will be re-living today.

"How was the rest of your day, after we parted yesterday?" Dr. Kismen says, making for small talk.

"It was good, thank you," I say, lying. No point in getting into my home life with her.

"Excellent. I'm glad to hear that." She pauses and takes a sip of her coffee from a black mug. Her desk is still neat and well organized. She quickly goes through my file.

"We shall begin now," she says emphatically, finishing her coffee with one last gulp.

"Do we stay here?" I ask, impatient to begin the procedure.

"No. The session will take place in the Preparation room—I will take you there now." She gets up and grabs a stack of plastic cards then opens the office door for me. I pick my backpack up off the floor and exit with her. She closes the door behind us, and it automatically locks."Follow me," she orders.

I obediently walk behind her. I start to wonder about Dr. Kismen's life outside of the Center. When I see people on the street and picture their lives, most of the time I imagine them leading a depressing existence. Dr. Kismen is no exception. I picture her lonely life: she's probably not married—I didn't see a wedding ring on her finger—with an only her cat waiting for her at home. I'm curious if she likes her job, which to me seems pretty much to consist of euthanizing people and selling their life to someone else. Maybe after awhile you get desensitized to that kind of work.

"Do you have any questions?" Dr. Kismen asks as if sensing that I was analyzing her.

"Is the preparation process going to hurt?" I ask quietly, trying to cover my tracks.

"No. Don't you worry about that. The preparation procedure is entirely painless," she says reassuringly.

We reach the end of the hall and stop in front of the elevator. There is an uncomfortable silence as we wait for it to arrive.

"Will the Conversion hurt?" I ask, deciding to ask another question.

"No, don't worry, it won't hurt either," Dr. Kismen says.

When the elevator arrives, we get in, and Dr. Kismen swipes one of her cards and presses the button for the 10th floor.

"We are going to the Laboratory where the preparation process and Conversion happen," she explains.

"How many floors are there in the Ultima Center?" I ask, genuinely curious.

"Fifteen," she responds with a forced smile. It's clear she doesn't want me to ask her any more questions about the Center.

We get off on the 10th floor. It's different than the other areas of the building I've seen so far: it's not gray. The entire floor is white—creepy, hospital white, even. It glossy white tiles remind me of mental asylums in horror movies, and it frightens me.

Dr. Kismen can see my hesitation and uneasiness.

"Everything will be fine," she says, putting her hand on my shoulder, trying to calm me.

"I know." I tilt my head downwards.

"Come on, follow me." She walks ahead, and I follow.

There is still no one around, no noise, no people, and no sign of life. Since yesterday, I've only seen two people in this entire building: Dr. Kismen and the receptionist. We walk down the white hallway passing different doors with numbered "Preparation" signs on them. We stop in front of the one labeled "Preparation 10."

"Here we are," says Dr. Kismen, swiping a card to unlock the door.

The room is clean and white and nearly empty; in the corner is a white desk with a computer and two chairs. White curtains cover the wall at my right.

Dr. Kismen sits at the desk and invites me to take a seat in the other chair.

A black bracelet with the word "Dator" printed on it is lying on the desk. Dr. Kismen picks up the bracelet and pushes a button on the side of it. Suddenly the computer screen turns on, and the bracelet lights up, emitting a high pitch ping.

"Activated," an automated voice from the computer says.

"What's that?" I ask.

"This is the bracelet you will need to wear," Dr. Kismen explains. "It's water-resistant, so you'll be able to shower with it on."

A thought pops into my mind that since we have no water at home, I probably will not be taking many showers in the next 30 days.

"I will help you to put it on," she says, waiting for me to roll up a sleeve.

"Does it matter which wrist it goes on?" I ask nervously, stroking the bracelet's cold metallic surface.

"No."

I roll up the sleeves of my hoodie and extend both my arms forward. Dr. Kismen glances at the scars from the cigarette burns running up the inside of my arms and tries not to let her eyes linger. She quickly fastens the bracelet around my right wrist and firmly locks it.

"What is it for?" I ask.

"To track your location and ensure your well-being," Dr. Kismen answers.

"My location, my well-being?"

I'm feeling uncomfortable.

"In case you decide to run away, get lost, or injured-we have to consider all the risks associated with our investment," Dr. Kismen responds.

Was this clever or disturbing news? I hadn't thought of any of these things happening. Maybe Dr. Kismen can sense my doubt?

"I see. You also said something about my well-being?" I ask despite thinking that I already know the answer. They don't want their Dators to be damaged in any way or worse die before the Conversion is completed.

"As I've mentioned, the preparation process can be very challenging for some people. Since you are not staying at Ultima full time during the process, we have to monitor you outside the Center," she says.

"We need to ensure you are safe, healthy and that your life is not at risk at anytime over the next 30 days. The bracelet will not let you encounter any physical danger nor die when you are outside Ultima. It will monitor your heartbeat and know when you are in danger. If you put yourself at risk, it will release chemicals into your body that will cause you to pass out. Then, you will immediately be retrieved and transferred back to Ultima where you will be held until your Conversion. Similarly, if you fail to attend a session—we will presume you have or plan to escape. The system will once again cause you to pass out, and after you are retrieved and transferred to Ultima, you will not be allowed to leave the Center. Oh, and, to be clear, should you attempt to take your own life or run away, you will not be paid—your trust fund will be emptied."

As I listen to her, I realize that my life no longer belongs to me. It is the property of the Ultima Center.

"Alina, you have made your decision. As of today, your life belongs—"

"—to Ultima?" I say, interrupting her.

"Well, yes, to Ultima for the time being, but, in the end, to the person waiting for it."

Dr. Kismen gazes at me.

Of course...Someone is taking my life. They have paid for it and indeed paid a premium for a 50-year life span.

"Do you understand?" Dr. Kismen asks.

"I do," I say with a crooked smile. "I do not intend to break any rules and will wait patiently for the Conversion."

"Very well," says Dr. Kismen, turning her attention to the computer screen. "Let's begin."

She gets up from the desk and pulls back a white curtain at the rear of the room. Behind the curtain is a glass wall. A bright white light fills the room, and I see a white hospital bed with what I think must be fancy medical equipment next to it. Dr. Kismen opens the glass door for me, but before moving, I stop and ask.

"May I go in and have a look around?" I want to snoop around and check out the equipment.

"Absolutely."

I walk into the room and tentatively take in its contents. The computer is linked to a series of monitors and other pieces of equipment that I cannot identify at first glance. It's fascinating but creepy. All the hardware is ivory white, just like the room. A faint electric hum comes from the equipment in front of me. As I walk around the edges of the room, I want to examine the components more closely, from all angles. There are what appear to be two tall computer towers, each about 3 feet in height and a foot wide. There are a few cables coming out, connecting the two towers. Near the towers is a transparent window frame, approximately 4 feet wide. As I move in closer to get a better look, I see a gentle, bright blue haze coming from around the windows edges. I reach out and lightly tap the window, and it lights up with an array of colorful icons that seems to float on a translucent background. It seems to be an interactive touch screen, similar to a tablet, but transparent. To the left of the touch screen is a steel helmet mounted on a white stand. The helmet is smooth and cold to my touch. I'm tempted to lift it up, but I see Dr. Kismen frowns disapprovingly, so I stop.

"Please," Dr. Kismen says, gesturing toward the bed.

"Shall I lay down?" I ask hesitantly.

"Please."

I take off my sneakers, and cautiously sit down on the bed, nervously awaiting instruction.

I watch as Dr. Kismen lifts the steel helmet from its stand and its interior lights up with a cold, blue glow.

"Is that the Mentior?" I ask.

"Yes it is," Dr. Kismen answers and then instructs me to lie down. She places the helmet on my head. A clear visor automatically and swiftly comes down over my eyes.

"Just relax, Alina," Dr. Kismen says calmly. "I am connecting the Mentior now. It will not hurt. Though it may take a minute, so in the meantime, I would like to ask you a few questions."

I stare at her through the visor.

"What is your earliest memory and how old were you at the time?" Dr. Kismen asks.

"I don't know," I say, trying to remember. "Probably it was when I was five years old?" Thankfully, I believe, my brain has blocked all the horrible things that took place before that.

"I see. That's pretty common—it's called childhood amnesia. The inability of adults to retrieve episodic memories of specific events, times, and places before the ages of 2 to 4 years. Today, you will see yourself before you were five," she says.

"OK," I say hesitantly.

"I will activate the Mentior now," says Dr. Kismen. "Please close your eyes."

Fearfully, I close my eyes. I feel a ticklish sensation on the side of my head as if an army of ants is crawling through my hair. I try to take Dr. Kismen's advice and just relax, even though it is hard for me. I open my eyes to make sure Dr. Kismen is still here, but when I do, I don't see her. Instead, I'm sitting on the cold living room floor of our shack, staring at what seems to be a younger version of Gloria. She's sitting on the couch. Her hair is pulled back in a ponytail. Her eyes are red, and tears are streaming down her cheeks. Taking a closer look at her, I see the resemblances between her and me.

"What are you staring at baby?" she shouts at me with anger.

"Nothing!" I shout back, out of habit. She doesn't seem to hear me.

"Stop crying!" she yells.

But I'm not crying. What is going on? Why can't she hear what I'm saying?

"Gloria, get in here you moron!" an old husky voice yells from the kitchen.

"Yes mother," Gloria responds, as hesitantly as I do when confronted by her. With great effort, she gets off the couch and slowly walks into the kitchen. She stands in front of an old overweight gray-haired woman. It's my Grandma Elaine, I recognize her from pictures.

"Stop that baby from crying! I have a headache! I can't listen to it anymore!" she screams at Gloria.

"I don't know what it wants!" Gloria cries.

"Go and get me a 6-pack then, you waste of space," Elaine shouts into my mother's face.

"I'm not well," Gloria says cautiously.

"You are not well? Do you think I give a crap?" Elaine says, angrier now."Why the hell did you decide to get pregnant, you fool! Now I have to take care of this bastard child."

"I'm sorry mother; I didn't want to have it. You know it was too late to do anything when I found out," Gloria says, starting to bawl.

I begin to sob, sitting here on the floor of our old family shack and experiencing this horrendous memory. Unfortunately, this isn't fiction—it's the reality of my early deplorable family life brought back as a memory. I close my eyes for a second; I need to try to find the strength to keep experiencing this. It's so hard, and it hurts my heart!

"I should have pushed you down the stairs when you were pregnant. Too bad we don't have any in this house." Elaine laughs and finishes her beer. Her laugh is worse than Gloria's; it sounds more vicious. "Now go and get me that booze!"

I crawl to the kitchen. For the first time ever, I feel I want to protect my mother.

"Why the hell were you born?" Elaine shouts at her daughter.

"I don't know," Gloria cries.

"Stop crying! It's all your fault! You should have kept your legs closed!" She spits in Gloria's face.

"But how could I, when you just forced me out onto the street? What else was I to do?" Gloria says, wiping a mixture of tears and snot off her face.

"Look at this stupid brat-with a nappy full of shit!"Elaine says with disgust as she walks past me as I cower terrified in the doorway and into the living room."Why is it here? Take this screeching, disgusting thing, this baby with you! I need to rest! I don't want to hear her ungodly screams anymore!" She falls down on the couch and continues to drink her beer.

Gloria comes close to me. I want to tell her that she and I should run away together and start a new life somewhere, but all I can see is the non-mother I know so well. Her eyes are empty—there is no love, no care. It's so painful and sad, but I realize in this instant that my family is seriously broken and has been for a long time, from even before I was born. We have all been spinning in a vicious cycle for years, but very soon, that cycle will be broken when I complete the Conversion.

"Stop sniveling! I hate you from the depths of my being. I have never hated anyone so much, and all I want is to get rid of you! Now come on." Gloria shouts at me. I feel her warm, clammy touch as she grabs my hand and roughly yanks me to stand up beside her. I try to hold onto her, but she lets me go, and I bump into the door frame. She walks shakily to the front hallway, and I follow her crying from the rough handling and the bump that is now growing on my forehead. She puts on her jacket. I'm cold and am waiting for her put on my coat, but she doesn't. She simply opens the front door, and I feel the chill from an autumn air on my face. She walks outside, and I stand at the door.

"What are you waiting for?" she yells, turning around to look at me. "Come on, let's go! I'm so sick of you!"

"But please mom," I beg. "Lift me up, carry me! I want to be close to you."

"Stop making all that noise and stop crying you lame duck!" she says as she walks towards me and roughly pulls me out of the house and slams the front door shut.

She rushes ahead of me, sobbing and swearing. I try to keep up but I can't. She doesn't bother to turn around to see if I'm still behind her as she walks around the corner, disappearing from my view. I stand in the middle of the pavement hurt, cold and hungry. Tears run down my face. I've been abandoned. But why? Why, Mom? I sit on a patch of grass, and whimper like a wolf cub's that's just seen its mother shot. I'm so alone!

I wrap my arms around my frail body to try to keep warm and fall in a half-sleep. After what seems hours, I see Gloria walking towards me. I'm so happy to see her! She came back for me! But she's holding a six-pack of beer under her arm and has clearly been drinking.

"So that's where you are, you brainless kid!"

She pulls me up by my sore arm so hard that the pain makes it impossible for me not to let out a cry.

"Stop howling!"

She grabs my hand and drags me behind her as she walks home. I feel the concrete burning on the skin of my knees as I'm being dragged along. It hurts so much. She can't hear me asking her to stop and my grunts of pain over her own grumbling.

"I hate you so much! You destroyed me! You destroyed my life," she says tugging my hand harder again.

I manage to get myself back up on my feet and pull my hand away.

"Fine!" she growls. "But you'd better keep up with me!"

As we walk the rest of the way home, I can hear her mumbling under her breath. "I hate you! If it wasn't for you I would have been long gone; I wouldn't be living in this hell with Elaine. But no! You had to kill off my dreams! I can't wait to get rid of you, forever.

Why? Why are you so full of rage, even then when I a harmless baby? Why do I feel the need to beg you to please forgive me for being born and causing you pain then and now? I feel sorry for myself and my whole family of losers. Why was I born into this mayhem and madness, I wonder? Maybe that was the plan all along; I got this life so I can give it to someone else who really deserves it and will value it. I hope that whoever gets my life will be happy.

When we finally get back home, Gloria puts the beer in the fridge. She avoids talking to Elaine—she just wants to hide in the bedroom, like me. She goes to the bedroom, and I try to keep up with her. There is no bed, only a dirty mattress on the floor—Micah and I are lucky to have our single bed. She closes the door in front of my face, and I slump to the floor outside the closed bedroom door, waiting for her to let me in, to let me in into her world, to love and give me care. But it never happens. I was and still am a motherless child.

My earliest memories seemed only to consist of me seeking Gloria's love and approval, but repeatedly I was faced with brutality, abuse, and neglect. These memories seem to melt into one another. I begin to realize the usefulness of the preparation process. In my case, it's needed to prove to me that my existence is indeed depraved—that I should be happy someone is willing to buy my life and take if off my hands. Clearly, I shouldn't have been born. My being on this earth is a big mistake and bad joke.

Why didn't Gloria just give me up for adoption? Why? Why? I would have had a way better life! I might have had a loving home. But Gloria needed someone who she can use and abuse just the same way she had been. She needed a real-live punching bag of her own.

Sitting on the floor outside the bedroom, waiting for Gloria to let me crawl onto the filthy mattress next to her, I feel a tickling sensation near the bump on my head. I become aware that the session is coming to an end. I slowly open my eyes, I see Dr. Kismen standing in front of me. She takes off the Mentior helmet and lets me rest for a moment.

"How are you doing?" she asks.

"How do you think I'm doing?" I reply, sounding irritated and defensive. I need a minute to reflect on everything I just experienced.

"I'm not sure," Dr. Kismen says, confused. She hadn't expected that response.

Perhaps I should be easier on her since really she has no idea what my childhood was like.

"Depressed, sad...yeah, probably a bit suicidal," I say.

"I'm sorry to hear that," Dr. Kismen says.

I hate that phrase. To me, it doesn't sound sincere. Nobody cares about my dreadful life, and even if they did there is nothing anyone can do about it, so they might as well keep silent.

"You know, you said it wouldn't hurt, but it did," I say, sitting up and trying to control my feelings. When I asked you that question, I wasn't just referring to physical pain. Emotional pain is way harder to bear."

"I understand."

"I don't think you do," I say, clearly offended by her seeming insincerity.

"You don't know everyone's story. We each have a different one. You can get up now," Dr. Kismen says, waiting for me to get off the bed.

"I'm sure your story is not as depressing as mine," I whine. I dangle my legs off the side of the bed and cover my face with my hands. "I can't do this! What other depressing memories will I have to revisit?"

Dr. Kismen comes up to me and puts her hand on my shoulder. I can smell her hand cream. It's scented with lemon and vanilla, strangely pleasant.

"Listen Alina, I know the preparation is hard for you, but the time to the Conversion will pass quickly, and you will be there sooner than you think. Your time is coming soon."

She smiles at me, but I see tears in her eyes. I don't think it's an appropriate time for a smile.

Her words do make me stop and think that she really does have a point. Recalling and revisiting my past, which has caused my depression, is why I decided to sign-up and undergo the Conversion in the first place. And, there is some consolation in knowing that while over the next 29 days my depression will deepen further after each session, but this will be the end of it

"We should get going," Dr. Kismen says, turning away from me and walking out off the treatment room.

I give a fleeting glance to the Mentior over my shoulder God I hate that machine.

"Alina, we need to leave the treatment area," Dr. Kismen calls from out in the hall.

I quickly put on my sneakers and rush out of this ghostly room, hoping to leave my sad memories behind.

However, things are never that easy. I could write a book on it. So, as we are walking back to Dr. Kismen's office, I fall back into the abyss. My heart and soul both dark return to my recent memories and linger there. The rich scent of Dr. Kismen's hand cream snaps my mind back to the present, and the scrunched shopping list is my hoodie pocket reminds me that I don't have any food for Micah at home, nor any money on me. I wonder what I can do? Where will I get the money to pay for food to make dinner tonight? Gloria's welfare check doesn't arrive until next week, and she's drunk away all the emergency funds I have stashed away in the house.

We stop in front of Dr. Kismen's office, and I ask her hesitantly, "Now that I've completed the first session is there any way that I could get an advance on the contract payment for the Conversion?"

"Unfortunately that's not possible. The contract is quite clear on this. You cannot receive any payment until the Conversion is completed" Dr. Kismen says with a sigh as she swipes the access card to enter her office. "You know this, so why do you ask?"

With the lump in my throat, growing bigger tears push out of my eyes, and run down my cheeks.

"It's just, you know, my brother and I need some money to help us get by somehow until next week," I sob.

This is so embarrassing, it's the first time I've ever shared my problems with anyone.

"I see," Dr. Kismen said, nodding. She enters the office, but I remain standing by the door. She picks up a black leather purse from beneath her desk, reaches in for her wallet, and takes out a hundred-dollar bill, extending it to me.

I'm speechless. I begin to cry even harder, practically bawling my eyes out.

"Please take it," Dr. Kismen insists.

I'm resistant at first, but then I remember that Micah needs me, especially in these last 29 days. Finally, I take the money.

"Let me know if you need more," she says. "I'm happy to help."

"Thank you so much," I say, gasping for air and trying to suppress my excitement. I carefully put the bill into my pocket and zip it closed.

"You're welcome. You can find your way out, right?"

I get the hint and right away disappear from her office.

I am stunned; the kindness I've searched for so long does exist. How ironic that it should appear suddenly when I'm ready to leave this world.

I feel a little dazed as I step outside the Ultima Center into the late afternoon and reluctantly head towards the bus stop. The lady from the other day is not there. I breathe easy.

I'm still heartbroken though to know that I have never experienced my mother's love. It is terrible to know that I was always a burden for her and my grandmother, probably even before I was born. It's hard not to think about it, but Dr. Kismen's kind gesture helps me not completely to lose faith in humankind. I check my phone and see a message from Micah telling me that he's at Bennett's house. He sent me the address, and it's not too far from our house.

I get on the bus. My eyes are red. I avoid looking at the bus driver for fear of meeting his eyes, and I carry on to the back of the bus to find a seat. I put on headphones and search the playlist for depressing music to suit my mood. I'm trying to control my tears, but it's hopeless. I wish I had never seen, my grandmother Elaine in my Mentior session. I wish I never knew what a wicked and nasty person she was.

Seeking distraction, I open my backpack and get out my diary. I look at the picture of Micah and the card he made for me. I thought these treasures might help improve my mood, but they only make me more upset.

"I can't wait to give Micah everything I've got—I want to give him my life," I murmur to myself while wiping the tears off my cheek. I grab the pen that is tucked between the pages of my diary and start to write. I've never written before, no poetry, no love letters, no hate letters, no emails, I only got the diary because I loved the way it looked. At this particular moment, I want to write something for Gloria, hoping it will ease my pain and I begin to write.......

Mom, please forgive that I was born

Please forgive me that I've made your life so deeply torn

I didn't want this thing to happen

I know I will always be a waste

Mom, please forgive that I'm unwanted

I know that this is all my fault

From the first moments, I was born unhappy

And a stranger to this world.

I read the words of the poem again. I know that nobody will ever see it. It's poorly written, but I don't care, it expresses my feelings. I put the diary away and lay my head back on the seat rest. It is pounding from all the emotions, mental suffering, and distress that have flooded through me today. I close my eyes just for a second.

I nearly jump out of my seat when the driver yells, "Last stop!"

I thank him as I get off the bus. A fast ride on the subway and I'm standing in front of Bennett's house. It's an older place but not as old as ours. It's very well maintained. There is a beautiful yard with mowed green grass. I admire the house's cozy porch and big shuttered windows.

I take the last step onto the porch timidly, and then I do something I should not do—I creep up to the front door and eavesdrop.

I hear children laughing—one of them is definitely Micah. Relieved, I ring the doorbell. A pretty woman with strawberry-blonde hair and blue eyes answers the door.

"Good evening."

"Um..." I get very shy around people, especially adults.

"Are you Micah's sister?" the woman asks with a smile.

"Um...Yes, I'm—"

"Oh great! I'm Christina," she says, extending her hand to me.

"I'm Alina," I say as our hands meet.

"Very nice to meet you darling, please come in."

Nobody has ever called me "Darling" before—it's bizarre.

The home is warm, and I can't help but breathe in the delicious aroma of food coming from the kitchen.

As soon as Micah sees me, he runs to me and wraps me in his little arms. I hold him tight. All the bad memories of today fade away; I want to forget the Mentior, Elaine, and Gloria, pretend nothing has happened. I have everything I need right here in my arms.

"Lina!" he shouts, delighted.

"I'm here, my sweetheart," I say as I run my fingers through his hair.

"Hi," I say, turning to the boy behind Micah. "You must be Bennett, "I'm Alina." He smiles shyly and runs into the kitchen to find his mom.

"Did you have fun?" I ask.

"Yeah, it was fun. We did our homework too," Micah answers proudly.

I'm very pleased—he's got a friend. I never had any. I was always bullied throughout school. All I wanted was to avoid everyone; I only expect the worse from people. May be that's why God has been punishing me for so long.

"Are you guys hungry?" Christina calls from the kitchen. Whatever she's cooking smells so delicious that my mouth is watering. I never learned how to cook, and even if I had, we never have groceries in the house for long anyway. Micah and I survive on sandwiches and dry noodles.

I can see that Micah is hungry—the small lunch that I'd made for him this morning isn't enough for his growing body."

I'm hesitant to answer.

"Don't be shy! I've made plenty of food," Christina sweetly calls from the kitchen.

"Yes, Micah! Stay!" Bennett screeches as he runs back into the living room and sits down next to us cross-legged on the carpet.

"Can we stay Alina?" Micah asks quietly. I can't resist his beautiful green eyes and their pleading look. Plus, I should try to enjoy my last days—I know tomorrow will be another terrible session inside that machine, so why not get some pleasure today.

"Sure, we can stay," I call back to Christina.

"Dinner will be ready in five minutes," Christina says, as she walks into the room.

I follow her to the kitchen. "Christina, I was wondering if by any chance Micah can use your bathroom."

"Of course, it's down the hall on the left" Christina nods towards the long corridor.

"Thank you," I respond.

I go back to the living room and get Micah. I know it's very rude, but I have no choice. We have no water at home, and Micah can't go to school dirty.

We sneak quietly in into the bathroom. God, we are lucky there's a shower. I tell Micah to get in the shower quickly and wash himself as quickly as he can.

"Just use that towel, OK?" I point to a small pink towel that's hanging on the rails beside the shower. "I'm sure it's clean." I let the water run for him and leave the bathroom.

I wait outside the room, terrified that we will be caught. I have no doubt that Christina would think we were crazy and kick us out of her cozy home if she found out I see Christina coming down the hall.

God no!

"What are you guys doing?" she asks.

We've been caught! I figure since I don't have that long to live, I might as well tell the truth.

"Micah's taking a shower," I say, shrugging.

"I see," Christina says, stunned. "Did he have an accident or something?"

"No," I say. "It's just, you see, we don't have any water at home right now, and I don't want Micah to go to school dirty." I don't really care about myself; I can stink up this world and Dr. Kismen's office as much as I want.

"What a shame!" Christina says sympathetically. "You are both welcome to take a shower here anytime! I'll bring you some clean towels." She gets two clean towels from the linen closet in the hallway and hands them to me. I'm just holding back my tears. Why am I so emotional? My period must be coming. This is the second time today someone has shown me what kindness is.

"After Micah is done, you go ahead, and we'll wait for you," Christina says as she turns and heads back to the kitchen.

When I hear Micah turn off the shower, I knock on the door and give him the fresh towel.

After he is done, I jump into the shower. For the first time in my life, I am not worried that someone might stumble into the bathroom and scream at me. I am enjoying the warm water, taking in each drop with my skin. I fill my mouth up with water and keep it open, then I pretend to be a beautiful fountain statue as I spit it out in a stream. I've never taken pleasure in the small things before, but now I am enjoying something as taking a shower. I wipe my face and notice the bracelet on my wrist; it reminds me that tomorrow will be another horrendous day at Ultima. The Mentior will make sure to point out that my life is just one big mistake. I finish my shower, dry off, dress and put my long hair into a ponytail. I walk down the hall and see Christina, Micah, and Bennett sitting at the dining table, waiting for me. For a quick moment, I forget about Ultima, Gloria, Elaine, and feel happy. This is how a family should be—a home cooked meal, children's laughter, and a caring, affectionate mother.

I stand by the table and take in this moment. This might be the last time I see Micah so happy.

"Come on, Alina, sit down," Christina says."How was your shower?"

I pull out a chair and sit next to Micah.

"The shower was great, thank you."

I stare down at the plate in front of me. The appetizing chicken makes me drool. I can't wait to try the mashed potatoes and vegetables. Everything just smells so delicious.

"OK, guys, please start eating, otherwise it will get cold," Christina says with a smile.

Micah and I glance at each other and then dig into our food.

Micah and I finish first, of course, and then we all talk and joke around, while Christina and Bennett finish their meal. After dinner, I help Christina with the dishes. This seems so normal, so natural. The happiness I feel is truly simple. Not once throughout dinner did I think about Gloria or Elaine, or about Ultima.

"How are you guys getting home?" Christina asks while handing me the last plate to dry.

"We'll walk, it's still light out." I check the time; it's getting close to eight o'clock.

"Are you sure? It might be a little dangerous, no?"

Little did she know that Micah and I walk around our neighborhood way past eight o'clock nearly every night. Sometimes we walk all night, just to get away from Gloria and her drunken buddies. I hate all of them; they always bother Micah and me, coming to our room and waking us, inviting us to the party...so we usually choose to sneak out and get away to the safety of the streets at night. At least it helps keep Micah safe from all the horror.

"I can drive you home, Alina. It's not a problem." Her offer is kind, but I don't want her to drive us home—I don't want her to see Gloria, who might be smoking outside on the front porch in the dark. Christina doesn't need to know about our pitiful life.

"We'll be fine," I say politely.

"OK, well, let me at least give you my cell number just in case you guys get lost or something," she jokes.

"Thank you," I say. "Thank you for everything Christina—for the delicious dinner and the shower." I want to hug her.

"Anytime."

"Christina, would it be possible for Micah to spend a few hours at your place tomorrow, too? I'm very sorry to ask, it's just that I'm in the process of...finding work." I try to avoid an eye contact with her.

"Absolutely! That's not a problem at all. It's great having Micah here. Bennett really enjoys his company," Christina says.

I smile at her and get Micah ready to go.

We leave their house and walk down the street. I want to take Micah on the scenic route back to our house. I know a little park down the street overlooking a pond where we can watch the sunset. We walk on the park's narrow path and are surrounded by trees. They are changing colors already. Fall is the most beautiful time of the year. I love to watch the leaves dance in the fresh, crisp autumn wind—they are so carefree.

As we walk, Micah tells me excitedly about his day at school and how much fun he had with Christina and Bennett. I smile at him and see his beautiful eyes sparkle.

We find the bench that overlooks the skyline as the sun is about to set.

We sit quietly, both enjoying this moment. My heart fills up with care and love for Micah. I'm going to miss him so much. I gently clasp his face in my hands and give him a kiss on his forehead.

"I love you, Micah," I whisper.

"I love you too, Lina," Micah replies, kissing me on the cheek. His kiss is so soft. The wind is playing with my clean hair; I love the smell of the shampoo.

It takes us 30 minutes to walk back to our house. I don't want to see Gloria—I despise her even more now after my first Mentior session and the memories of how much she hated me when all I wanted was her love.

I tell Micah to be quiet, so I can hear what's happening inside the house. I only hear the TV, so I signal Micah to come up behind me and take his small hand in mine.

I open the front door gently and pray she's sleeping.

When we walk inside, we see Gloria passed out on the couch, snoring.

"Oh, thank God," I whisper to Micah.

We quickly sneak into the bedroom and get ready for bed. I glance at my bracelet. I want to take it off and run away with Micah, run into the unknown of the dark night. I know it would be difficult, but at least we'd be together. The bracelet is not coming off; it feels like it's been sewn onto my skin. I know it's too late to back out on the deal and change my decision.

I catch Micah's eyes, and he seems concerned about me and the new bracelet. I calm myself down, stop fiddling with the bracelet and give him a warm smile.

"Micah, you can go over to Bennett's house after school again tomorrow."

"Yay!" he replies excitedly.

I kiss him on the cheek and tuck him in.

I know I've made the right decision. I have to make sure Micah's got a future. I need to make sure he will be reunited with his grandparents, and that this time they will be able to afford to keep him. I have to go all the way. I need to finish the preparation sessions and make the Conversion. I need to break this cycle of hardship and pain.

With that thought, I make myself comfortable next to Micah and fall asleep.

SESSION 5

The second, third, and fourth preparation treatment sessions were just as terrible as the first one. My life as a toddler, preschooler, and preteen was truly painful and disturbing experiences full of abuse, neglect, and resentment. When I was five years old, I was left outside on a cold autumn night for hours because I was apparently making so much noise that neither Elaine nor Gloria could hear their favorite TV show. I remember it being so cold. I cried and begged them to let me back inside the house, but it only made things worse. Gloria opened the door for me just to give me a slap on the face, and tell me to shut up. I cried for hours sitting outside the door, but they ignored me—they were already too drunk to hear. Somehow, I managed to get back inside through a window. I'm surprised I didn't die of exposure that night. Another traumatic memory that I was forced to relive in session four was when my mother "accidently" broke my arm because I stole a piece of bread from the fridge. I was nine years old and starving. I had even felt the excruciating pain in my arm and the sound of it snapping all over again. A week after that incident I wet myself in front of the whole class at my school. Once again, courtesy of the Mentior session four I got to relive the full experience of the shame and embarrassment I suffered that day. Throughout all of the first four sessions, one question kept rising in my head. Why did nobody protect me?

I'm not surprised anymore why the Ultima Center makes all Dators wear the Ultima bracelet that allows them to monitor your every move—I'm sure some people would try to escape or end their lives before the Conversion. It seems to me that the Mentior only picks the sad and depressing memories for Dators like me to relive, but in reality, my life is just one big sad memory. After the fourth session, I was so severely depressed didn't want to show up for the next session and was suicidal. But thoughts of Micah made me get out of bed each day and grudgingly make my way to Ultima. I couldn't betray him when I'm so close to giving him everything that he truly deserves. The care and kindness that Micah and I continue to receive from Christina have been amazing. She has been able to give us more love and attention in the past four days than Gloria would ever be able to give in an entire lifetime.

So, here I am, once again, standing in front of this gray building. It's unusually warm for this time of year. Thankfully, I washed my purple long-sleeve knit-top yesterday at Christina's house, so I'm wearing it today. There is not even a single cloud in the vast sky. It is a pure, uninterrupted blue that stretches seamlessly across my field of vision. I tilt my head upwards and take in the bright sunshine with my face. For a brief moment, I think about escaping again. But, I quickly dismiss it and quickly step to the front door, before I lose my nerve.

Inside the glass treatment room, it's the same ritual, again and again. After Dr. Kismen meets me at Ultima's reception, we make our way to the tenth floor to Preparation Room 10.

"How are you doing today?" Dr. Kismen asks while checking and switching on the Mentior.

"I'm fine," I respond indifferently, standing in the doorway of the room.

Noting my despondency and lack of enthusiasm, Dr. Kismen tries to cheer me up a little with some ill-considered black humor.

"Almost there, only twenty-five days left to go!" Her attempt to encourage and cheer me is not working very well.

"Yeah, can't wait," I say sarcastically.

"Now, let's get down to business. Shall we begin today's session?" she asks, nodding in the direction of the helmet.

Grudgingly with a heavy heart, I walk towards the treatment bed with my head down and eye the Mentior resentfully.

Dr. Kismen puts the helmet on over my head and lowers the glass visor over my eyes.

The next thing I know, I'm back in the old house. Figures, all of my memories are associated with this wretched house.

This time I'm sitting on the couch and Micah is on my lap. He's only five years old. I hold him close to me. This is the first time I've seen Micah in my memories. He was the cutest toddler you'll ever see: big green eyes and chubby cheeks with curly hair covering his forehead. I run my fingers through his curls—it is so soft. I kiss him on his neck, and he giggles as he squirms to get away. Gloria is not home yet. My hands are shaking, and my heart is racing. I know what day it is—I will never forget it. I'm trying to think; I need to think quick. I'm through with re-experiencing my memories. I'm not going to submit to the system today. I need to get my head together and think of the plan. But I have to hurry. I'm not even certain that the Mentior will let me do what I plan. I gently put Micah down on the couch and run to the bedroom. I pick up a warm sweater for him. I know what I'm going to do: I'm running away from this ugly memory. I'm not a toddler or a preschooler anymore—I can run fast when we get out of here. However, there is a big problem; I don't seem to be able to keep the sweater on Micah. Every time I try to put it on him, he slips into it. But, immediately when I look at him, he's not wearing it. It takes me a second to realize that I can't modify my memories. I decide that the best I can do now is to try and make an escape as quickly as possible. I'm nearly to the door when I hear Gloria and his evil voice. I'm too late. Mentior has known all along that Micah and I would not have enough time to escape.

They are at the front door now, just on the other side of the porch. We have nowhere to run. I put Micah down and squat to hold him.

"Yeah come in. I mean, she has to grow up one of these days," Gloria says as she opens the door.

"Sure. Well, let me see her first—I mean what if she's ugly?" I hear the male voice say laughing crazily and it makes me queasy.

"You ain't no prince charming yourself," Gloria says, grinning, and they both fall through the doorway laughing like hyenas. Their shrill, animalistic laughter and snorts echoes in my ears. I put my hands to my temples, and count the seconds until what I know will be the death of my soul.

"Alina, come here!" Gloria yells. I keep my eyes down and don't move, perhaps they won't see me I think stupidly. "Are you deaf, you waste of space?"

Gloria stumbles, and she makes her way into the living room, where I stand motionless, like a small animal trapped in the headlights of a semi-trailer.

I stare at her, hoping she will go away. I'm so frightened. Then, my eyes widen as I see him coming up behind her. He's one of the biggest reasons I ended up at Ultima. He's the devil who managed in one single act to take everything from me: my dignity, my hope, and my sanity.

"Did you swallow your tongue, Alina?"

Gloria's eyes are glassy, and she's a mess, she's drunk.

"Go to hell!" I screech back because I know what's about to happen.

"What did you just say? You little ungrateful brat!" Gloria goes to slap me when he stops her.

"Hey, hey, Gloria, take it easy!"

He grabs her by the arm and drags her back. "There's no need to scream." He focuses his bloodshot eyes on me. The bushy eyebrows and deep-set, almost black bags underneath his eyes make them look small. He runs his beady red eyes along my body. Scanning me like bare code from top to bottom. His gaze makes my skin crawl, and I break out in a sweat. I try to swallow my anxiety and start to sob. He's standing a few feet away from me, but I can clearly smell his disgusting stench.

"So, what do you think?" Gloria says, as she walks to the kitchen and cracks open a beer.

"We have a deal!"

He lurches towards me and grabs a handful of my hair in his hands and starts to play with it, then without warning twists it quickly around his fist and yanks down. It hurts like all hell, and it feels like my hair is being pulled from my scalp, yelping with a pain I move my eyes down to the floor hoping it would open beneath me, like a trapdoor that I can slide through. But I know that's not going happen, and my whole body shivers with fright at what's about to happen.

"Two hundred bucks, cash up front right?" Gloria asks, walking towards us, ignoring my pain and distress

"Mom, please no! Help me" I beg her. I look at her with my frightened eyes. I already know it's hopeless, but here I am still trying to seek her compassion and love when I know it's not going to happen.

"Oh stop it you little slug! As if you are so innocent!"

She tosses downs her beer and throws the empty over her shoulder.

He grabs both my hands in one of his rough, calloused mitts and then roughly pulls me in towards him with the fist balled with my hair. My body is so small I can't resist his strength, and the pain makes it impossible to think straight. He's a mountain of a man far too big and tall for me to fight off.

"Take her to the bedroom," Gloria says casually, pointing down the hall.

He drags me down the hallway towards the bedroom, I try to get free stall to save myself, but his hands are too strong —they are as big as a bear's paws. He kicks open the bedroom door. As a last-ditch effort, I try to bite his hand that is caught up in my hair. I bite down as hard as I can. He screams and lets go of me. I run back up the hall towards the living room but he quickly catches up and hits me hard from behind with a punch in my lower back, and I fall face down on the carpet. I already knew this is going to happen.

"Mom, please. Help me. You're my other you can't let this happen!" I shriek, in the hope that Gloria will do something to save me. I hear Micah begin to cry in the front room.

I can't get up, the pain in my back is agonizing, and my head is spinning. With a quick kick to my side, he bends down grabs my right ankle and drags me back to the bedroom.

"Mom, save me!" I howl for last time

I am completely dazed and don't have the power to fight anymore. Once inside the room, he slams the door shut and throws me onto the mattress where he rips off my pants. I close my eyes; I can hear the sound of his zipper and feel his ghastly sweaty body. An appalling alcohol-laced smell comes from his mouth and fills the room. I stop screaming because I'm almost unconscious and essentially dead inside. I no longer seem to feel the physical pain, and it's as if my soul has left my body. I'm numb. The vessel is empty. There is nothing left.

When I open my eyes, I need a second to figure out where I am. I see the ugly walls of the bedroom, and I know I'm still in this horrible memory. He's gone, at least. Got what he paid for and left. I gasp for air, cover my face with my hands, and try to stop my tears from falling. It's exactly what I did four years ago after this brutal rape happened.

I know I can't change anything— but I think I may be able to cheat the system and chose not to relive all my memories, I know I can do this!

This time I will try to find the courage to scrape myself off the floor. The floor which I now see again is covered with small stains of my blood. My whole body hurts terribly, but THIS TIME I will do it differently. I stagger from the bedroom and push myself onwards into the living room. Gloria is sitting on the couch and drinking a beer.

"I thought you would never come out," she says, laughing. "Well, at least you're a woman now." She pauses to take a long swig. "You should thank me."

Four years ago, she said the same, and I stayed for five days in the bedroom, lamenting the death of my innocence.

I'm about to turn around and lock myself in the bedroom once again, when, suddenly, I change my mind.

I'm going to do what I should have done four years ago.

I close my right hand into a fist and rush at my mother. I punch her right in the face. She ignores it completely. She doesn't feel it because it never actually happened. But at this point I don't care—it just feels good enough to finally let out all the resentment I've been holding inside and fight back.

I'm not going to lock myself in the bedroom and cry for five days straight this time. I open the front door and start to run down the street. I don't know where I'm running to, I have no direction and no purpose. I just run. I pick up speed and sprint—I want out of this awful neighborhood. I don't want to see any of these ugly houses. I don't pay attention to anything around me. While running, thousands of thoughts cross my mind.

Needing to take a break, I stop and hunch over, lowering my head and seeing the gray road I'm standing on. Sweat is running down my face. I wipe it off and look up.

There is a police station right in front of me. Of course! That's where I should have gone four years ago! I quickly run inside.

"Officer! Officer!" I say, trying to get the attention of the two young police officers behind the counter, but they look right past me as if they don't see me at all. I grab one of them by the arms, but he just continues to ignore me.

"Officer! Please help me!" I shout at them. All my attempts to be heard fail.

"PLEASE SOMEONE HELP ME!" I shout at the top of my lungs.

No reaction from anyone—everyone is just quietly minding their business. I collapse on the floor and break into tears.

"They can't hear you," I hear a female voice say.

With all this atrocious preparation process and the Mentior session, I think perhaps now I'm starting to go crazy—I can hear voices now.

"They are not a part of your memories," the female voice continues.

I think it's probably the Mentior machine somehow trying to communicate with me. Terrified, I look around, but everyone is still just ignoring me. Then my eyes come to rest on a woman sitting in the corner. I know she sees me. Her face is so familiar! I know her...

"No point yelling so loud," a woman says.

I'm confused. I try placing her. Where have I seen her before?

Then I remember: she's the creepy lady from the bus stop. What is she doing here? Or is my mind playing tricks on me? Maybe it's all just a dream or hallucination.

"Are you real?" I ask.

"Yes, I'm real," she says. "Are you?"

"I think so. I'm honestly not quite sure anymore. I saw you yesterday outside Ultima center, do you remember me?"

"Sure," she answers, indifferently.

The police officer she is sitting across from is talking to her, but he doesn't see me or acknowledge our conversation. I formulate a plan to try piece everything together. First, I should probably find out her name. She is wearing the same clothes as yesterday, so presumably, I'm seeing her in the present time, but I wonder how she sees me? Do I look like myself as a terrified young teenager? Of course, the main question I have is what is she doing at the police station, in my memories?

"What's your name?" the woman asks me as if she just read my mind.

"Alina. And yours?"

"Nicole."

"Nice to meet you," I say, out of habit.

"I guess we've got a lot to talk about, Alina." She gets up from her chair and walks toward me. Patting me on the back, she says, "Come on, let's go outside."

Stunned, I just watch her walk away. At the door, she turns back and says, "What are you waiting for? Want to go back into your memory? If so, hurry, I don't think you have that much time. You should know I'm just as confused as you are. I have no idea what's going on."

I definitely don't want to be back in that depressing shack with Gloria. But somehow Nicole's words have reassured me.

I slowly follow her out the door of the station, watching her as we walk. She's not wearing anything special—just well-worn black jeans and baggy green sweater with rolled-up sleeves, same as yesterday. Then, suddenly it hits me: she's not wearing a bracelet.

"Are you confused?" Nicole asks quietly.

"A little,"

"Are you going through the preparation process?"

"I am." I want to ask her direct questions so that we can find an underlying cause of this mess faster. "Did you sell your life?"

"I did," Nicole answers, looking down at the ground. She's walking ahead of me now, and takes the sidewalk to the right while asking, "Do you mind if we walk this way?" She's obviously made up her mind already.

"That's fine." I follow. Do I believe her? Did she actually sell her life? Where is her bracelet then?

Turning to look at me, she asks, "How is it possible that such a beautiful young girl ended up at Ultima?"

"I'm not that young," I say.

"No? What are you? 22? 23?"

"I'm 18."

"Well you have a very mature face; it's scarred with pain and fear," Nicole says poetically. "How old are you in your current memory?"

"Fourteen. What about you?"

"I'm 35 in real life, I'm supposed to be 31 in my memories," she says."I was made to relive the worst memory of my life today."

Suddenly her smile turns sad. I notice her eyes are welling up with tears; I don't want her to cry.

"Me too," I say, trying to sound sympathetic and let her know she isn't alone.

"Well, at least we are in this together now." Nicole gives me a comforting smile. "How did you get into my memories? How did you manage to escape yours?"

"I really don't know," I say."Honestly, I just decided to leave my house without any thought and just ran. Ran as fast as I could. I had no idea where I was running to, and the next thing I knew I was standing in front of the police station." I look her in the eyes and blurt out, "This feels very strange, me talking to you like this. It feels so real like I'm not plugged in into Mentior."

"I feel the same, Alina. You know, I'd never thought of escaping or cheating my memory, but now I think it might be a great idea. What's the point of reliving something that you can't change?" Nicole grows quiet, she begins to walk faster, kicking dry yellow leaves off the sidewalk in frustration.

I run to catch up with her. "What are you thinking about?" I say, breaking the silence

"About how none of this makes any sense" She walks ahead of me again.

"I relived my happy memories way too quickly" Nicole mumbles, "I won't see Erica ever again."Her face turns bright red. "This is where it all happened," she says sadly, pointing to the highway that leads into the city.

"The highway?" I ask.

"Yes." She stands at the crossroads beside the exit for the highway. We can't keep walking straight ahead, as the sidewalk ends. However, we can turn right, and the sidewalk will lead us to the old cemetery, or we can head to the left and make our way to the city center. I'm not feeling much like taking a stroll in a cemetery, so I slowly move toward the left in the hope that Nicole will follow, and she does.

"What happened?" I'm curious to learn about her story, and particularly why she decided that Ultima was her only way out.

"I've had such a perfect life; I've traveled to so many unforgettable places with my husband." She looks up at the sky, I wonder if she is possibly trying to picture her husband in heaven.

"Lucky you," I sigh. "I've never left the continent."

I can tell it's hard for Nicole to keep talking.

"I was married for 10 years, we had our daughter, Erica," Nicole continues. "We were so happy. I had everything I needed. But in the eyes of God, I had way too much, and he took from me everything that mattered—my family." Nicole wipes a tear from her cheek, still trying to find the strength to keep walking.

Listening to Nicole's painful sobs, I feel hopeless. No matter what I say to her, she won't be drawn out of her sorrow, her pain.

"I was driving that day," she said. "It was sunny and beautiful, and we were on the way to the park. No signs of trouble."

Nicole pauses. I can feel, just by hearing her story and seeing her face, the full intensity of that day.

"I lost control of the car, the truck smashed into us—on the passenger side."

Another tear runs down her face and slips onto her quivering mouth.

"Brandon and Erica died instantly; she was only 8. And me? I didn't have a single scratch on me. The guilt was unbearable." She breathes in deeply and turns to look me right in the eyes. "I had to give a statement to the police after the accident. They wanted to make sure I didn't do it intentionally. And that's when I saw you, running inside the station, screaming..." With the slightest hint of a smile, she says, "Thank you."

"For what?" I say, puzzled.

"For appearing in my memories. I don't think I could handle another interrogation."

Frankly, I'm feeling relieved as well—I'd rather spend time with this stranger than reliving my awful memories.

"I don't think I would've survived re-living the memories of what happened after the accident. I spent days and months lying in bed, staring at the ceiling. I wanted to commit suicide, but my parents wouldn't have been able to afford the funeral costs, and I'd drained all my savings. Insurance companies don't cover suicide, and I'm sure now if the Conversion program is successful they might stop life insurance policies altogether. Anyway, thankfully I didn't end my life four years ago, otherwise, my elderly parents would have been left with my dead body and my debt. At least now I have some money for them in a trust fund. It's not much, but it should be enough to cover their retirement, I hope." Nicole looks at me. "You probably received a big pay-out for your life because you are so young."

"I suppose," I say, reluctantly. I don't want to talk money.

"Do your parents know what you are up to?" I ask.

"I told them I'm going on a trip that will help my depression, and they believed me. After the Conversion, Ultima will send them a letter to let them know I'm gone, and that as a consolation, there is some cash in it for them, to help out with their retirement plans."

I frown thinking of how I'll have to deliver the news of my intentions to Micah.

"Aren't you afraid you'll run in into them in the city at some point?" I ask.

"Not possible," she says."I'm staying at Ultima full time, I can't leave the facility.

I'm allowed to send my parents an email every two or three days to let them I'm OK and that my trip is going well." Nicole fakes a weak smile.

"You are staying at Ultima?" I ask, needing confirmation.

"Yes, aren't you?"

"No, I'm not." I point to her arm. "That explains the fact that you aren't wearing a bracelet."

"What bracelet?" Nicole asks, puzzled.

I roll up my sleeve and show it to her. "A bracelet, like this one." She takes my hand and tentatively reaches out to check out my bracelet.

"I never got one; what does it do?"

"It basically keeps tabs on me to make sure I don't run away or commit suicide before the Conversion takes place."

"Smart," Nicole mumbles.

We approach the hill from which you can see the skyline of the city. Tired of walking, I find a patch of grass where I can sit. Eventually, Nicole joins and sits s next to me. We watch as cars and people pass below, observing them in silence.

"What's it like, staying at Ultima?" I ask.

"Just as depressing as staying at home," she responds.

"Have you met any other people?"

"Who? Other participants? No. I have my own room, which is under surveillance 24/7.The only person I see is the caterer, who brings me my food, and the doctor that connects me to the Mentior"

"Wow," I say. "Sounds like prison."

"Pretty much," Nicole laughs. I smile slightly.

"What do you think is going to happen now?" I ask, looking around."Will they realize there is a glitch somewhere? Should we tell them?"

"Tell them?" she asks incredulously. "Why? If there's a glitch, it's not my problem. I need to stop reliving the past and start moving beyond it. I'd rather spend time with a complete stranger than going back to the life I had after my family was taken away from me." She turns to me. "Your childhood was pretty rough, too, huh?"

"To say the least," I say sadly.

"We should enjoy these last days," Nicole says as she scans the busy city scene laid out before us. "The city really looks gorgeous from here."

I nod.

"You know," she continued, "I think we should plan to meet again during tomorrow's session. I have to believe that escaping from our memories will work again for both of our sakes." Her eyes sparkle.

"I agree," I say excitedly. "Where should we meet?"

"Let's meet at Fantasy World! You know where that is?"

"I do," I say.

Fantasy World is a small theme park located in the center of the city; it's separated from the business district of the city by the waters of the bay. When I was younger, I used to walk across the bridge and stand outside the park. I never had the money to go in. I just wanted to hear the laughter of all the kids inside. After the park would close, I would walk back to my house and often picture myself jumping off the bridge, spreading my wings, and flying away.

"So I will see you there tomorrow?" Nicole says, grinning."Might as well enjoy our final hours."

There is a sudden rush of wind, and I hear the dried leaves rustling.

"I think it's coming," I say, touching my temples.

"What's coming?"

"The session will be over soon, I can feel it."

Nicole gets up and takes my hand. "I will see you tomorrow."

The next thing I see is the white ceiling of the preparation room, blurry through the glass visor.

What just happened to me? The whole experience with Nicole has left me bewildered. Was it real, or is it just my imagination running wild? I know Nicole exists—I saw her at the bus stop after my first meeting with Dr. Kismen. Somehow, our paths crossed again in our memories. It's surely not how the preparation process is supposed to go, but as Nicole said, "Not my problem." I do want to enjoy my last days; I have no desire to be in high school again, where I got bullied and made fun of on a daily basis. And I certainly don't want to relive those wretched days after the rape.

"How are you feeling?" Dr. Kismen asks with a smile while taking the helmet from my head.

"All right," I say. I need to pull myself together quickly.

"You look confused," she said, putting a hand on my shoulder."Are you OK?"

No kidding I'm confused, I just had a full-on conversation with another Dator in my memories.

"I'm fine," I say, just wanting to get away as fast as possible. I don't want Dr. Kismen to ask me any questions about my session. I get off the bed and put my sneakers on.

"Excellent. I just thought I'd ask since you seem a little different."

She raises her eyebrow.

"Bad memory," I respond, looking away.

"Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to pry."

I remember I need to pick up Micah from Christina's place.

"I should probably get going," I say, walking towards the door.

"Do you have enough money?" she asks.

"I'm sorry?" It takes me a second to realize what she's talking about "Oh! Yes, yes, thank you. It takes me a while to get myself together after these sessions, and especially after today's." I bit my tongue.

"Why? What happened today?" Dr. Kismen says.

"Nothing, nothing. Just a bad memory, like I said" I try to change the subject. "I still have $60 dollars left; thank you again for being so generous."

"No problem," she says, smiling, "And please don't hesitate to let me know if you need more."

I give her an appreciative look. She waves while I walk to toward Dolores, the short-haired receptionist. She has finally warmed up to me.

"How are you, dear?" Dolores asks while I walk past.

"Good. Um..."

I'm tempted to ask her about Nicole to see if she knows anything about her. Of course, I shouldn't, I don't want anyone to suspect anything. Besides, I have no clue if tomorrow's plan to meet at Fantasy World will work.

"Can I help you with something?"

"No," I say."I'd better go. I hope you are well, Dolores." I smile and run toward the elevator.

I catch the bus to get to Christina's as fast as possible. Per usual, there is an amazing hot dinner on the dining table.

"How's the job hunt?" Christina asks as I stuff my face with food.

"Good, I had an interview today." I feel terrible lying to Christina, but I certainly can't tell her the truth.

"That's wonderful! Where?"

I say the first thing that comes into my head. "Ground Control—the coffee shop."

Why did I have to give details? Now I will have to remember all my lies.

"That's wonderful!" With a wink, she says, "I can't wait for you to start making me coffee!"

I pretend to laugh. I need to change the subject as soon as possible. For the next hour, all we do is talk about Bennett and Micah, their school activities, their homework. I ask Christina if Micah can spend the evening with her and Bennett again tomorrow, and she agrees.

We head to the kitchen to do the dishes, our usual nightly ritual, and I feel the need to apologize.

"Christina, I'm sorry to keep asking you to look after Micah. It's just a tough time for me right now. I promise after I start that job and get my schedule figured out, I will be able to pick Micah up from school on time." Even in my apology I can't help but lie to her.

"Don't be silly, Alina, I don't mind at all. Actually," she said, drying a plate, "I was going to ask you: Matt, my husband, will be back from a business trip tomorrow, and we will be going camping over the weekend. I thought maybe you and Micah might join us?"

Camping! I've never been camping. Now I wish I wasn't dying!

"That's so wonderful of you to offer, but," I say hesitantly, "I think I should probably stay in the city in case I do get this job. Maybe you could you take Micah with you, though?" I might be pushing it, but it would be perfect if they could take Micah for the weekend, then he wouldn't have to be at home with Gloria.

"Absolutely! We can definitely take him. It will be nice for Bennett to have a friend join us. We'll probably be going camping the weekend after as well—have to take advantage of these warm days, you know?"

"I'm sure Micah will be thrilled to go camping. Thank you." I smile.

"Wonderful. And after you figure everything out with your work schedule, we can all go together."

I would love to go camping and enjoy nature. If only I could. I keep questioning my decision: Were all my problems fixable? Did I rush too soon into giving up my life? I look down at the bracelet. Too late to do anything about it now, my fate is sealed.

After another long walk home with Micah, the aroma of alcohol and tobacco greets us at the door on our arrival at the house.

Lying next to Micah in bed that night, I think a lot about Nicole. Was the whole thing just an illusion? Is Mentior playing some sort of game with us? Will our escapes from our memories effect the outcome for the Receivers? I keep tossing and turning. My anxiety is hurting my brain and turns my stomach. I need to relax; Micah needs to get some sleep. Will I be able to escape again tomorrow to meet Nicole at Fantasy World? I admit I enjoyed spending time with her. Having someone for the first time open up to me really made me feel special. She trusted me with her feelings. I want to see her again; I pray that tomorrow I will.

SOPHIE

"Ready?" Dr. Kismen asks, holding the helmet in her hands.

My heart is pounding. My palms are sweaty. I didn't realize how tense I was until I opened up my fists. Will our plan work?

"Is everything OK?" she asks.

"Yes. Why?"

"You seem tense today."

"I'm not," I say, fidgeting."I'm fine."

"Almost there, Alina. Just a few more weeks to go."

She approaches the bed I'm lying on and places the helmet on my head. This is it. God please let me see Nicole again.

In a flash, my eyes are open, I feel the cold floor below me, I see the ceiling covered with brown stains overhead. Probably a week has passed since the rape. I can hear the TV blaring in the living room.

I get up off the floor and walk towards the door; I need get to Fantasy World as soon as possible. Nicole might already be there.

I leave the house, ignoring Gloria's presence, and hop on the bus. It's nice to be invisible to people. I can do whatever I want—I could scream and yell, but no one would hear or judge me.

The bus drives across the bridge that connects the city to the north side. I love this bridge. It's poetic, stunning and tragic at the same time. I wonder how many people have attempted suicide here. I've read the story of Ken Baldwin, a suicide survivor who jumped off the Golden Gate Bridge in San Francisco. I still clearly remember his words: "Everything in my life that I'd thought was unfixable was totally fixable—except for having just jumped."

I see the Ferris wheel and the big green "Fantasy World" sign. A young boy, part of a family of three, pushes the button requesting a stop and I follow the family off the bus.

Standing in front of the gate, I look around for Nicole, but I can't see her. I'm afraid that we might not run in into each other after all.

"Alina!"

I hear Nicole's voice in the distance.

She's here! It worked! She runs up to me and gives me a hug and then squeezes my hand in excitement.

"It worked!" we both smile.

"I'm so happy we get to spend a whole day together," Nicole says as we enter the park.

"Me too," I reply. "It's nice to talk to someone who understands."

Inside Fantasy World, everything looks fun and everyone's having a great time—rides galore and smiling kids and parents.

I wonder if it's hard for Nicole to be here with so many children Erica's age running around.

"It's not," Nicole says.

I raise the brow and glance at her. "I'm sorry?"

"It's not hard for me to be here if that's what you're wondering."

"How on earth did you know I was thinking that?" My voice is high-pitched and almost trembling.

"I don't know," she responds indifferently. "Intuition, I guess. Come on, let's go get on the roller coaster!"

She grabs my hand and pulls me after her.

Hesitant at first, eventually I give in, and together we run to the coaster. Around the corner, I see it: a red train with open cars. We grab the last two seats at the back.

"Here we go!"Nicole shouts. "This is just the small one, but it's still fun!"

As the roller coaster starts moving, I close my eyes—I'm too scared to open them. But why? There's nothing to be afraid of. I open them again as the car lurches upward. As we reach the peak, the noise stops and then I feel a rumbling as gravity finally rips the coaster down. The wind slaps my face as if my head was leaning out of the window of a speeding car.

The ear-piercing screams of the thrill seekers in front of us only boost my adrenaline, and my body shakes from the ride's many twists, turns, and loops. The excitement consumes me.

We get spit out into a straight way, and the car slows to a stop. I feel as if my body is still in motion, the thrill built-up inside me. Nicole is screaming loud, her facial expression is like a crazy scientist who just made a discovery he'd longed for his entire life.

Seeing Nicole like this makes me happy. The ride has stopped, but I keep laughing as Nicole's facial expression lingers in my mind.

"Shall we?" Nicole asks, un-strapping herself from her seat.

"Shall we what?"

"Hit our next adventure!"

She chuckles.

"Can't wait," I say.

We walk towards the Ferris wheel, which has as its backdrop the glorious harbor.

"We'll be able to see the whole city from up there," Nicole says.

We hop into a cabin next to a young mother and her two daughters. I hold my breath as we float up and up to the top of the wheel, 40 meters above the ground, enjoying knockout views of the bridge and the city skyline. Our cabin even stops right at the top for a few minutes.

"Wow, look at the city! At the water! It looks amazing!" I say, clapping my hands.

From the top, I can see all the beauty and charm that this incredible city has to offer: tall skyscrapers, the incredible bridge, a spectacular theater in the shape of white sail rising over the botanical garden. I was blind before, but now I see the beauty of this place.

"Fascinating," Nicole says in wonder, her eyes reflecting the light.

I look at Nicole, and then over to the young mother, and then her two daughters. The girl with hazel eyes seems to stare at me. Is she really looking at me? Can she see me?

As soon as I think that, she waves at me. I freeze.

Leaning over to Nicole, I whisper, "That kid just waved at me."

"What?" She looks over at the curly-haired girl.

"Hi," Nicole says with a smile.

"Hello," the girl responds, extending her hand for a high-five. Nicole gently meets the girl's hand with her own.

I'm in shock. My mouth opens and shuts like a goldfish, with no sound coming out. Our cart shakes as we slowly descend.

"What's your name?" Nicole asks.

"Sophie."

"Hi Sophie. I'm Nicole."

Sophie turns her eyes to me as if waiting to hear my name. "I'm Alina," I say, quivering.

"Nice to meet you guys," she says.

I grasp her hand in an attempt to determine if she's real or she's just a figment of my imagination.

"I think she's real, Alina," Nicole says, yet again reading my mind.

"How is this possible?" I ask. I wave my hands in front of Sophie's mother."Hello! Can you hear me too?"

The mother ignores me and carries on her conversation with her other daughter.

I guess it's only us three that can talk to each other, I conclude.

The wheel stops and the door of our cabin opens.

"Come on Sophie," says Nicole, grabbing Sophie's hand. "It's time to go."

The three of us jump out, and Sophie strolls ahead of us.

"Who is she?" I ask Nicole nervously.

"I have no idea! I know just as much as you do."

"I want to find out."

Nicole sighs and stares off. "God, she reminds me of Erica so much."

"Does she?"

"Absolutely. Her face, her demeanor. She's just as pretty as Erica was."

Nicole rushes after Sophie, and I follow. Once we catch up to her, we grab her little hands and lock her between us.

"I don't think she's a Dator," I say to Nicole over Sophie's head."She can't be."

"What's a Dator?" Sophie asks, looking up at me.

I bite my lip and hesitate. I look at Nicole for help.

"Um," Nicole says. "It's someone who helps other people."

"I help animals!" Sophie smiles and jumps. Nicole and I simultaneously catch her in mid-bounce and lift her up higher. Sophie giggles so infectiously, that Nicole and I start chuckling too.

"You are so precious," Nicole says to Sophie.

"Mommy says that, too," Sophie responds, wiggling herself out of our hands. She runs ahead, and we watch her closely.

"I agree with you," Nicole says. "Sophie is too dear to give her life away. Besides, it's not possible. Dators have to be 18 to participate, no?"

"I had to wait for my 18th birthday to join," I say.

"So who is she then? How is she able to see us?"

Nicole looks concerned.

"Let's find out," I say.

We run to Sophie. I squat to her level and ask, "Was that your mom back there?"

"No, but she looks like my mommy."

"Where is your mommy then?" Nicole says, cutting into the conversation.

"She's with me in a room," Sophie says, looking up at Nicole. "She's waiting for me to wake up."

"In a room? Like in your house?"

"No, in a big glass building."

"Glass building?" Nicole looks at me, shaking her head. "What is she talking about?" She leans down and brushes Sophie's hair off her face. "Sophie, honey, how did you get here, to the Fantasy World?"

"I don't know," Sophie said, her arms crossed now. "I told you, I'm sleeping, I can't see anything, but I hear everything."

"I can't make sense of it," Nicole says as she stands back up.

"Doctors in a glass building put me to sleep while I wait to be healthy again," Sophie explains. "I came to Fantasy World through a computer. They put a helmet on me. In the computer, I'm healthy."

"A helmet?" Nicole says, shocked. She looks over to me. "She can't be a Dator. She's probably the Receiver."

"Mommy tells me that I will wake up soon," Sophie tells us. "Daddy is very sad. They both cry all the time." At that, she runs off.

"She is not a Dator; obviously something happened to her, and she's not well. She's 'waiting to get healthy,' right? We need to find out where exactly this Doctor's office is. She said a glass building, so it's not Ultima." I let out a deep sigh, remembering the way Sophie was talking about her Mommy. Her parents must be devastated; they would do anything to save their daughter's life. Not like my mother, who'd probably be the first in line to sell my life rather than save me.

"I can only imagine how Sophie's parents feel right now," Nicole said. "But at least they have hope to help them get through their hard time. I didn't get to have hope. The Conversion wasn't around when Erica died. But then again even if it was available, I wouldn't have been able to give her my life since we were direct blood relations."

"That's right," I say, remembering reading something like that. "I wonder why that is?"

"I have no idea. Something to do with genetics, maybe."

"Anyway, I think we should see if Sophie can direct us to this glass building. I'm sure it's not Ultima," I say. "I mean, children can't be used as Dators."

Nicole looks at me. "We all have our reasons why we ended up at Ultima. You've heard mine; so what's yours?" Nicole asks.

I'm not in the mood to talk about my past, confess all my pain and despair. I ignore the question and look around, trying to find Sophie. She is standing in front of the cotton candy kiosk."We should see if Sophie can take us to the glass building she's talking about."

"You want a cotton candy?" I ask Sophie as we approach.

"Yes please!"

I grab the blue cotton candy and hand it to her. "Can you show me where the glass building is, Sophie?" I ask her.

"Oh, I don't know," she replies."Somewhere in the city. There's a lake beside it." She outlines a circle in the air.

A glass building in front of a lake...There is no doubt what building she's talking about.

"Shall we go?" Nicole says, walking toward us.

"Yes, and I think I know where."

I lead the three of us out of Fantasy World. All Sophie needs to do is recognize the building, and Nicole and I can take it from there.

Sophie and Nicole walk behind me. I can see they are beginning to form a special connection. With Nicole holding Sophie by the hand, they do look like mother and daughter. But why is Sophie here? Does she really exist? Or is it Nicole's mind that created her? And if that's the case, how am I seeing her too? Why is this happening to us?

"This way, guys," I say.

I turn and can't help but smile. Both Sophie and Nicole look happy. Sophie is consumed in her story, and Nicole can't get enough of listening to the child's tender voice. We are getting close—I hear my heart beat.

"There, there it is!" Sophie says with excitement, pointing to the building in the shape of a rising sun, with glass panels attached to free lines, creating an illusion of the building moving and turning.

"It's Novus Centre, isn't it?" Nicole says, sounding distressed.

"Yes. Yes it is," I say. My first day at Ultima, I'd overheard Dr. Kismen's phone conversation with someone, and they were talking about the Novus Center. "Do you know what happens here?" I ask. I'm sure she knows—even I know. When it was first under construction, it created a real fuss in the city. The city divided into two: one supported the Conversion, the other did not.

"I do," Nicole says. "I did my research before coming to Ultima."

We stand in front of the building, too scared to go in. Nicole is holding Sophie's hand; she doesn't want to let her go.

"Clearly she's a Receiver and not a Dator," Nicole says, looking at me.

One of us could very well be the giver of her new life. Between the two of us, I'd guess it's me, as I have a longer life expectancy. Either way, Sophie's parents will be very happy to have their daughter back. She deserves to live; she's just a child, and so innocent.

I step forward in the direction of the Novus Center.

"Where are you going?" Nicole asks.

"I'm going inside," I say. "I want to see what's happening inside. You guys can wait for me here if you'd like."

Nicole leads Sophie to the garden in front of the pond, and they sit down on a bench.

Looking around, I immediately realize how different the Ultima and Novus Centers are. Ultima's gray look, its dry bushes, the gray road—it carries a feeling of anguish. Novus, on the other hand, is the opposite: you feel as though you're looking at the rising sun, the building is surrounded by beautiful gardens, which provide a sweet aroma. Breathing in the fresh smell of flowers brightens up your mood in an instant. Novus gives people hope, desire, and taste for living, while Ultima does everything possible to remind you that your existence in this world is for nothing, and life is full of torment.

I step closer to the entrance. The windows are tinted, I can't see inside. I try the door a few times, but with no luck. "It's locked!" I shout over to Nicole.

"Well, come over here then!" she responds, clearly uncomfortable with my attempts to enter the building and make an investigation.

I want to explore the area, to see if I can find out what's happening inside. Are the Receivers inside? Do they even exist? Could Ultima be tricking us, our life energies being used for something else and not to save another human? But then who's Sophie? Is she real? She brought us here. I'm worried I won't have time to find all the pieces of the puzzle. I rush around the side of the building, yelling over to Nicole, "I'll be right back!"

"Where are you going?" Nicole calls back.

"I'm just going to walk around back!"

I can tell from the quiver in Nicole's voice that she's nervous. She warns, "The session might be over soon!"

She's right, of course, the session would be ending soon, but I've still got a little more time.

I walk around the building and try a door at the back, but it, too, is locked. Looking around, I notice a narrow path through the grass, which leads to a group of buildings that are about a kilometer away. I'm intrigued, so I make my way there. Architecturally, the buildings combine the old and new, while blending seamlessly with the green spaces and the river winding around them. The trees and flowers are in full bloom.

There is a blue sign on one of the modernist buildings that reads, FACULTY OF SCIENCE UNIVERSITY OF TECHNOLOGY.

I've not been on a proper University campus before, and I'm drawn to stroll around. I've only ever experienced college life through the movies. I knew from the beginning that I would never go to college. Gloria would never have let me succeed. I see a few students walking around with their books. I wave at them, but they just pass me by as if I do not exist. I don't care that they don't see me, I'm just dreaming out here anyway, at how my life could have been. I imagine myself studying science in this cool-looking building. I graduate and succeed. These students are my friends.

I keep waving at them, enjoying my fantasy. Forget Gloria, forget the Conversion, forget Ultima. I'm going to be successful! For a split second, with my soul and heart, I believe my fantasy is a reality; I smile and jump."Hi guys! How are you doing?" I ask random people. "See you in class!"

This continues until I notice one student, who doesn't seem to ignore me. I see his eyes, his face—I know I'm not alone. His eyes glare coldly at me, and it is terribly uncomfortable.

I lose my concentration, my grip will soon follow. And then, I feel it, that tingling in my head. I know the end of the session is approaching. I don't want to go, not right now. How will I see Nicole and Sophie again? Where will we meet? What about this student? I must see him again because he sees me.

My vision goes blurry, and I feel a sudden silence wash over me.

When I open my eyes, I'm back in the bed at Ultima with the helmet on. The blue light inside the helmet hurts my eyes. I feel for a moment the urge to inform Dr. Kismen about everything that is happening when I'm plugged into Mentior. To tell her about Nicole, Sophie, and the student. After all, what if it's effecting the Conversion? Surely I've discovered a glitch. But, of course, if the glitch is fixed then I will have to go back to my awful memories, to relive them without any hope of running away. I certainly don't want that.

"You have a question?" Dr. Kismen asks while taking off the helmet.

"No," I reply, hesitantly."Why do you ask?"

"You look baffled, is all; I thought maybe you wanted to ask me something."

"Well, actually," I say, almost without meaning to, "I do."My stomach feels tight.

"What is it, Alina?"

I sit up, second-guessing whether I should tell her. I take a few panicked breaths.

"Don't be shy, what is it?" she presses.

I can't do it. I really don't want to revisit my memories anymore."I was just wondering how the process is going. Someone monitors it, isn't that right?""

I experience a sudden flashback of the student's face, and for a moment, it paralyzes me before I hear Dr. Kismen's chipper voice.

"Absolutely! Everything is going as planned."She nods toward the door as if to move me along. "Are you worried about the Conversion not being successful?"

I put my sneakers on, and rush out, mumbling, "Yes, I'm worried."

"Don't be, the process is going well, and soon we'll be approaching the halfway mark." She smiles broadly, and we head toward the elevator.

As we walk, I wonder about Nicole. I wish I could see her right now and confirm where we might meet tomorrow. The Novus Center would make sense; I hope she will be there.

I realize suddenly that she's probably in the building somewhere, right now. But which floor?

"Dr. Kismen, what floor are the participants on? You know, the ones staying at Ultima full time during Conversion?"

"What's going on?" she asks. "Is everything all right? Why are you asking?"

I realize the question had made her suspicious and I need to cover my tracks."Oh, I was only curious. It doesn't matter."

"I'm not in a position to answer that question anyway. It's confidential."

She plays with a stack of plastic cards in her hands and seems strangely nervous. I drop the matter, say goodbye to Dr. Kismen and walk out.

On the way to Christina's house, I try to absorb and process everything that came up in the day's session: Nicole is a Dator like me—she sold her life. She's staying at Ultima full-time, hence the lack of a bracelet on her wrist. I won't be able to see her unless I'm plugged in. We've met Sophie, who vaguely explained to us how she ended up at Fantasy World; she is also staying at Novus Center, and that's the place where people receive lives. It's likely me who's giving her life since I have the longest life span. But why is she plugged into the Mentior? Do Receivers go through their own preparation process? As Dators, we relive our painful memories; maybe Receivers go through some sort of "happy preparation process," where a comfortable, cozy, attractive environment is created for a new life energy or soul to get easily attached.

It's all so very confusing, and hard to comprehend.

What about that gaze from the student? Who is he? A Dator? A Receiver? Someone that maybe my mind created?

"You are awfully quiet tonight," Christina says to me. She definitely woke me from my daydream. I haven't even touched my food or spoken to Micah yet.

"I'm sorry, guys, there's just a lot on my mind." I pick up my fork and notice that my hands are trembling. Will I see Sophie and Nicole tomorrow? Will I see the student again? Whose life is Sophie receiving? Mine? Am I going to cross paths with more Dators?

"Alina, are you there?" Christina asks as she gently touches my forearm."I've been asking how your interview went. Did you get the job?"

I realize I've totally tuned out."I'm sorry?" I have to forget about Mentior, I'm here now with Micah and my new-found family. I need to learn to live in the present.

"I just wondered if you got the job," Christina slowly repeats, concerned.

"Oh," I say, trying to remember the story I told her," at the Ground Control, you mean?"

"Yes, isn't that where your interview was today?"

"Right, of course." I try to hide my eyes from Christina."I don't think I got the job."

"Well, you never know," she says patting my hand. "Don't lose hope."

"I won't," I say, knowing full well I've all but lost it already."I will keep applying for other jobs. Thank you so much for your support." I will never be able to repay her for everything she's done for us in such a short time.

"You know what might help?" she said with a smile.

"What?"

"Maybe we can update your outfit a little?"

She winks at me and smiles.

It's true, I've been wearing the same clothes for the past three days, only changing my underwear. "I, I don't really have anything else," I reply, looking down at my clothes.

"I do, though. I can lend you some if you'd like. I'm pretty sure we're the same size."

"I don't know," I say, as always, filled with guilt in the face of her generosity.

"Come on," she pushed. "It will definitely help with your job hunt. Trust me!"

"All right," I agree. I can't control my mouth from smiling at the thought.

"Excellent! After dinner, we can try on a few things. It's decided."

As promised, after dinner, while the boys play, we explore Christina's closet. Her bedroom is neatly arranged, everything has its own place. I look over at the king-size bed and get a little jealous. I wonder how it feels to have so much space. If I had a bed this size, I would stretch out like a starfish every night.

Nicole has a beautiful picture of a yellow flower hanging over the headboard. It looks like someone is holding it in their hand, and you can see a blurry vision of skyscrapers in the background.

"Do you like the bedroom?" Christina asks.

"I do. That bed looks pretty comfortable!"

"I got it from a friend. And my husband built this closet. What do you think of the picture?" she asks, pointing to the wall.

"It's lovely."

"I took it in Canada, where we went for our honeymoon. Some good memories there..."

"That's wonderful."

"Alright," she said, getting down to business, "let's see what we have here. We don't want you to look too professional, or they might think you are overqualified." She opens up her walk-in closet."How about this one?" Christina reaches out for beautiful chiffon yellow dress with lace straps. "It should fall just above your knees. It will look modest yet elegant." She hands it to me and walks toward the door. "You should try it. I'll give you some privacy, and go check up on Bennett and Micah."

When the door closes, I put on the dress. I love the belted waist—it sits on my torso beautifully, and I can see my defined feminine shape. I close the zipper at the back and look at myself in the mirror. "Is that really you?" I whisper, touching my reflection in the mirror. I imagine myself walking around the University again and seeing him. Will I see him again?

Nicole knocks on the door. "Are you dressed?"

"Yes, come in."

"Look at you! You look radiant!"She comes close to me and shakes her head."You look so lovely. Turn around."

I do a little spin for her.

"But maybe take off that black bracelet, it doesn't quite suit the dress."

"I will," I say, touching the bracelet with my hand. I wish I could.

She raises my arms to get a better look at how the dress fits.

"What happened here?" Nicole asks sweetly, referring to my scars.

"Oh nothing," I say self-consciously, "just some old battle wounds."

"Well," she says, tactfully changing the subject and reaching back into her closet, "I think this white cardigan will go perfectly with the dress."

I try it on, and sure enough, it fits perfectly and does go well with the dress.

"Do you like it?" Christina asks as I look in the mirror.

"I really do."

"You know what I was thinking, Alina? Maybe you and Micah can stay here tonight."

"Well..." I say hesitantly.

"I won't take no for an answer. My place is closer to the city anyway. I will drop Micah off at school.

Without thinking, I wrap my arms around Christina and begin to cry. "Thank you," I whisper."Thank you so very much."I feel the warmth of Christina's body. I don't want to let her go.

"Of course," she says calmly. "I'm happy to help. Now go and change. I'll get you some pajamas, and when you've changed, we can watch a movie."

The evening is spent in the laughter and enjoyment of comfy pj's, movie and popcorn. Tomorrow's preparation session doesn't even cross my mind. That night I slept soundly with a smile on my face.

PERFECT STRANGER

"Don't you look lovely today," Dr. Kismen comments as we enter the glass room.

"Thank you," I say, blushing. I'm not used to getting compliments; it feels awkward.

"Are you ready?"

My heart is pounding with nerves and excitement. "Yes, I'm ready."

"You seem anxious."

"No, I'm fine, let's get started."

"Alright," Dr. Kismen says as she adjusts the helmet.

I close my eyes and wait. It feels as if time has stood still. When I open my eyes, I find myself standing on the grounds of my old high school. This will surely be a disaster. Nothing good happened here. As I begin to run, I see a group of people approaching me. I need to avoid them. I can't face this. Not bullying, not right now. I turn and walk in the opposite direction. I want to escape, but I'm too late: the next thing I know I'm surrounded by a wicked group of teenagers. They are laughing at me and shuffle my backpack amongst them, they kick it and step on it. I can't protect myself against so many people. I need to get to Novus. Crying and begging for them to stop only seems to instigate more cruelty."STOP!" I yell, but nobody hears me. Everyone is laughing. It's just a cause of amusement for them to see the pain and suffering of another. I need to break through somehow. I gather my strength and punch the boy in front of me right in the face, as hard as I can. The hit is ignored, of course. It's not part of the memory and just seems to dissolve into nothing.

Suddenly, the voice of my physics teacher echoes across the field. "What are you guys doing?" The bullies all turn to look, and I seize the opportunity to slip out between a pair of boys holding my backpack. Grabbing my pack, I run like hell out away from that school and head toward the Novus Center.

When I get there, I find no trace of Nicole or Sophie. I wonder if I will ever see them again.

Distraught and alone, I walk around Novus. My intuition leads me to the Faculty of Science building. As I get closer to the building, I can feel that he is there. I feel a nervous kind of energy; it tingles through me like an electrical current starting at my head and gathering in my toes, gluing me to the ground. I can't move. He sees me and observes me carefully as if watching an exotic animal at the zoo. He walks my way, and I'm dreading the moment of our encounter.

"I was hoping I would see you again," he says, his voice smooth and profound. His eyes are a deep, vivid baby blue, and this close, I'm able to also see the flecks of silver that sparkle in the sun. He has distinct cheekbones and an angular jaw, his pale skin makes him look devilishly handsome.

"Oh, um..." I say, at a loss for words. I point randomly at the air, probably looking silly. I'm trying hard to utter a word. I touch the side of my head and concentrate. I feel extremely uncomfortable; I don't want him to look at me.

"Can't you talk?" he says, looking concerned.

"Yes, yes, sorry." My palms are sweaty, and I tilt my head down in embarrassment. "I wasn't prepared to talk to anyone."

"I wasn't either, but I'm glad you are here," he says with a smile.

What might he want from me?

He extends his hand. "I'm Gabriel."

"Alina," I reply, anxiously slipping my hand into his big wide palm, and then abruptly pulling it back. Something about touching him doesn't feel right.

"Nice to meet you," he says, a bit taken aback at my reaction to his offer of a handshake.

"What are you doing here?" I ask.

"I guess the same thing as you," he responds with a smirk, "trying to picture my sad life in brighter colors."

He must be a Dator. I nod to him.

"I'm so happy I can talk to someone," Gabriel says. "Everyone here just ignores me."

"Makes sense if they are not part of your memories."

Gabriel raises an eyebrow; he's got no clue what I'm talking about. We seem to have had entirely different experiences with the preparation process. A heavy silence settles over us. Then I ask, "How old are you?"

"I'm 18," he says. "And you?"

"Same."

"That's it?" Gabriel asks, seemingly astonished.

"I guess I look older." I bite my lip.

"No, no," he says, floundering, "I just—"He inches forward."Do you want to go for a walk with me?"

I slowly drag my feet ahead and follow Gabriel. As we walk, I wonder why he would want to end his life so young? Trouble in the family? Bullying at school?

He breaks the silence. "I always wanted to study here,"

"Yeah?"

"Yeah, why not?" he laughs. "Look around. This campus is amazing, so much natural beauty."

"It is lovely," I say. "What did you want to study at the University?"

"Medicine."

Gabriel looks down. "It will probably never happen now."He looks up at me and says, "Cute dress, by the way."

I blush and lose my speech. I have to work hard not to succumb to my emotions.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable."

"Oh, well, I..." I randomly gesture with my fingers. I'm out of my comfort zone. I want to get back into my shell and hide.

"Are you all right?" Gabriel asks.

"Yeah, I'm fine," I say. I have to be on guard, I need to find out who he is and what he wants from me.

We are about halfway to the Novus Center. I see a bench, so I slow down. "Can we sit?" I ask.

"Sure."

The sun is shining, and it's pleasant outdoors. This part of the city looks charming. I should have come here more often before instead of wasting my time in my own neighborhood.

I tilt my head up and breathe in the fresh air.

"You like it out here?" Gabriel asks.

"I do." I smile nervously."It's nice."

The air helps clear my head. I don't think I should just assume Gabriel is a Dator. I have no proof. I turn my eyes to his arms; he's not wearing a bracelet. I shift my gaze to his shoulders. I can't look him in the face.

"Tell me about yourself," Gabriel says, showing off his white teeth.

I shrug my shoulders. "There's nothing to know, really. My life is pretty boring: I have no friends, high school was torture, I hate my house and my mother."

Gabriel is incredulous. He shakes his head in disbelief. "Shouldn't have asked," I say with a grin.

"Well," he said, "I just wasn't expecting that. There must be something good in your life. It can't be all depressing."

"There is nothing good about my life," I sigh."Living is torture: you fight for survival while haunted by the past."Gabriel inches closer to me. I keep my distance. "Actually to be fair, my little brother," I say, thinking of Micah. "He's my only happiness."

"See, your life isn't all bad. In fact, it's pretty damn good. You've got someone you love, and he loves you back."

His eyes penetrate my soul. His words hit my heart. "I guess." I don't sound convinced.

"How old is your brother?"

"Micah? He's nine. He's so smart and precious—just wonderful."

"I'm sure he is. I hope I get to meet him someday."

I shake my head. "I don't think that will happen."

"So, if you hate your mother so much, who's paying for your new life?"

My heart leaps. "Inheritance," I say quietly, looking down. From the corner of my eye, I notice two figures approaching us in the distance. I stand and squint. It must be Sophie and Nicole.

"Do you know them?" Gabriel asks.

"I do," I say, running toward them. Sophie runs into my arms, just like Micah. She wraps my waist with her tiny legs and my neck with her arms. "I'm so happy you guys found me!"

"Where have you been?"Nicole asks, sounding slightly annoyed. "We've been looking everywhere for you."

"I went to the Novus Center, but you weren't there!" I say.

"Yes, because I went to Fantasy World to pick up Sophie," Nicole answers. "You just disappeared yesterday. I wasn't sure where you were. I actually was worried that you had gotten sucked back into your memories."

"What memories?" Gabriel cuts in.

Nicole looks over at Gabriel and says, "Oh hello, and who are you?"

"I'm Gabriel," he says, extending his hand.

She points at Gabriel and looks at me. "Is he the reason you got lost yesterday?"

"No!" I yell. "I just ran into him when I was snooping around the Novus Center."

"What's going on here?" Gabriel says.

"Nothing," I respond, "Absolutely nothing."

Now the four of us stand in a circle, somewhat shocked and disoriented.

Sophie waves at Gabriel. "Hi!"Her tiny palm tries to reach Gabriel's hand.

"I'm Gabriel," he says. He can't hide his smile.

Sophie can melt anyone's heart. Gabriel gently takes Sophie's hand, she pulls his hand and makes him walk forward.

"Show me around," Sophie orders.

"Sure."

With Gabriel distracted by Sophie, Nicole takes me aside.

"Who is this guy?" she whispers.

"Gabriel? I met him yesterday, he was over there on the University grounds. I think he's a Dator." I say in a whisper.

"How do you know that?" Nicole asks. "How do you know you can trust him?"

"How do I know I can trust you?"

"Fair point," Nicole says, backing off.

"Seriously Nicole, I'm tired of being scared and paranoid. What is the worst that could happen? We die? Isn't that what's happening already? We are dying slowly; we only have three weeks left. I'm tired of being afraid. I'm tired of waiting for something bad to happen. I have no fear left." I breathe out a sigh and run to catch up with Gabriel and Sophie.

Nicole chases after me and stops me. "Listen," she says, "you're right; we will be dead soon. Maybe I should start letting go too." She squeezes my hand in hers.

"Gabriel told me he was at the University campus because he wanted to see his life in brighter colors," I tell her.

"And you just assumed he was a Dator?" Nicole said."What does that even mean, brighter colors? It doesn't make any sense to me."

"Why does it even matter?" I say."Must we label each other? Dator, Receiver—who cares? I think maybe we should just relax. I've never had any friends in my whole life, and now I've met Sophie, Gabriel, and you..." I touch her cheek.

"Let's go, Nicole," I say with a smile, "let's join our crew" I smile again.

We walk to Gabriel and Sophie, and the four of us head toward the harbor.

Nicole grabs Sophie's hand, and they drift ahead.

"So, how do you guys know each other?" Gabriel asks, shaking his head in confusion.

"I met Nicole two days ago, and I met Sophie yesterday. Believe it or not, I'm just as confused as you are."

"It's very strange, you know," Gabriel says, looking away.

"What's that?"

"Being in this virtual reality, trying to create a positive environment for a new life."

I smell the ocean air; we are close to the harbor.

"I don't even know if you are real," he says as he reaches out to grab my hand. I flinch.

"Don't" I yell."I'm real!" I pull my hand away from him.

"What's the matter? You don't have to yell! I get it, you are real."

"Yes, I'm real." I sob a little, my voice shakes.

"OK, OK. You're real. I just thought maybe my mind created you." He moves closer to me but doesn't attempt any physical contact.

"I'm real," I say again. "Your mind didn't construct me."

"Maybe my mind just helped me to find you."

"More like I found you," I say, letting a smile through.

"Here we are," I say as we approach the harbor. I want to enjoy the picturesque scenery. The world can wait. The wharf is full of people going about their business. Sailboats are clustered at the marina on the north side of the bridge. I walk over to see the theater up close.

"Where are you going?" Nicole yells. She and Sophie couldn't keep up with us.

"I want to see the theater!" I respond. I look to the right and see an astonishing green botanical garden spread out along the coastline. What an amazing day! I've gotten to experience so much of the beauty that this city has to offer. And to top it off, I'm not alone.

I hear Sophie and Nicole's laughter. Sophie has a chocolate ice cream cone in her hand.

Gabriel catches up with me. "Have you ever seen a performance inside the theater?"

"Not one," I say, ashamed to admit it.

"Do you want to go inside and check it out? We might be able to catch a show!" Caught up in the moment, Gabriel reaches out to hold my hand, but he catches my stern look first.

"All right, all right, Alina. Don't worry. I'm not going to hold your hand, I was just excited."

His excuse makes me smile.

Suddenly, I feel a cold sensation on the side of my head, and I know I will soon be taken away from this fantasy. I need to hurry. "Wait a second, OK?"

"Sure."

I run towards Nicole and Sophie. I have to make sure we find each other tomorrow.

"Nicole, it's coming, the session is almost over. Let's meet right here tomorrow, OK?"

"Sounds good," she says, and then looks at Sophie. "I might be a little late, though. Sophie asked me to spend time with her at Fantasy World so that we can check out her favorite rides." Nicole winks at her.

"Yes, yes! I want to go on rides tomorrow!" Sophie jumps and claps her hands.

"All right," I say.

"We will just meet you guys here later in the afternoon. You and Gabriel can take a long walk in the botanical garden," Nicole says.

"What are you talking about?" I say defensively. I guess she knows something I don't.

"Oh please, Alina," she says. "I can see everything." She smiles.

"What can you see?" Sophie asks.

"Nothing, sweetheart. Tomorrow I will meet you at the same spot, at Fantasy World." Nicole gently touches Sophie's nose.

"Now go back to Gabriel and let him know you will see him here tomorrow," Nicole says, nodding in his direction.

"But I want to spend time with you guys! Besides, I've only just met him." I cross my arms.

"You've only just met us, too," she said. "You don't have time to waste, so trust your instincts and your heart."

I think for a moment. What do I have to lose? I will be lying if I say I don't enjoy Gabriel's company. So why wouldn't I want to see him tomorrow?

"Gabriel!" I shout, walking back to him."Do you want to meet up again tomorrow?"

I can't believe I had the courage to ask him that.

"Absolutely," he says, without missing a beat.

"Good! Let's meet right here tomorrow! All right?"

"Yes, let's do that." He smiles coyly. "Can I get a hug?" he asks.

"I'm sorry?"

I try to brush off his request

"Nothing," he says. "It was just a thought. Anyway, I will see you tomorrow right here."

I feel as though I should maybe confirm Gabriel is real. I inch forward and stand next to him. His body exudes a magical glow. My heart races. Smoothly, almost imperceptibly, I sense the warmth of his fingertips on my hand. I don't pull away this time. We both gaze at the beautiful bridge and the sinking sunset's stunning colors. The receding blues and oranges battle the blackness pushing it away. The colors reflect on the water. I smile. I am content.

Slowly, his fingers envelop my hand. I close my eyes and enjoy the feeling.

"Look at you," Dr. Kismen says as my eyes reopen in the room."Must have been a pretty good memory!"

"Something like that," I respond, annoyed that I wasn't able to stay in the Mentior for a bit longer.

"Sorry to interrupt, then." She puts the helmet aside and smiles. "Maybe tomorrow's memory will be even better."Little does she know I don't have any good memories. But if the Mentior's glitch keeps up and I can reunite with Sophie, Nicole, and Gabriel, that will work for me.

Dr. Kismen sees that I haven't gotten up from the bed yet, and asks, "Is everything OK?"

"Yes, sorry." I sit up and scramble to put my shoes on.

"Where did you go?" she asks.

"Where did I go?" I repeat, biting my lip. "What do you mean?"

"Just now."

"I don't understand."

"You just completely zoned out there, so I asked you where you went, that's all." She softly smiles, and I exhale."You should relax, Alina."

I admit, all those years spent with Gloria has had an effect on me. I expect the worse from people."Yes of course," I say, adding, "You know, it used to be way worse. I've loosened up quite a bit in the past week."

"I can only imagine," she says. "Anyway, I'd better get back to work. I hope you relive a good memory tomorrow." She opens the door that leads to the reception for me.

"Thank you." As I pass her, I find myself reaching out to hug her. She pulls away, not expecting contact.

"Oh, I'm sorry," I say, returning to my senses. "I'm just feeling... happy."

I stop by the reception desk to chat with Dolores.

"Hello there, honey. Aren't you glowing!" she says. Clearly, I'm in a totally different mood than usual. She eyes me with suspicion. "What's going on, Alina?"

"Nothing, absolutely nothing," I say, turning around and heading to the exit."Just another day."

Why can't I stop thinking about Gabriel? I thought that I was immune to any feelings towards men, especially after what happened to me. I can still feel the sensation of Gabriel's fingers on my hand. "Hey! Are you getting on or what?" the bus driver shouts, awakening me from my daydream. I hadn't even noticed the bus driving up.

"I'm sorry," I say, making my way onto the bus. I sit by a window.

Am I dreaming? I look out the window and notice that the road leading to the city is not as depressing as I always thought it was. We pass trees and small ponds that I've never noticed before but now do. It's as if a veil has been lifted from my eyes. I reach for my headphones, and for the first time I can remember, I want to listen to something happy, and not depressing. I breathe on the window to fog it up. I want to draw something, but I know it's just a silly thing to do, so I rub the window clear. Gabriel's face keeps flashing in front of me. I want it to stop, but I'm afraid it won't. I need to forget about him; I don't want to get hurt.

Suddenly I realize how ridiculous that sounds. I'm going to die soon I thought my brain and heart knew that already.

I need to stop trying to justify my actions and feelings. I must leave my fear behind, and not dwell on the past. But I keep asking myself who Gabriel is? How did he end up my memories? Is he really one of us? Is he a Dator? Or is he a Receiver? Why did he ask who was paying for my life?

I get to Christina's house just in time for dessert. At the table, she asks, "Any luck with job interviews? Did you hear back from Ground Control?" She forks a piece of pie into her mouth. "Your face is just gleaming, by the way; I haven't seen you looking so excited before."

"Yeah, I think I got the job at Ground Control." Without thinking, I say, "Do you mind if I borrow another dress for tomorrow?" I bite my tongue in anticipation

"You need a dress to wear to work at a coffee shop?" Christina asks.

"Oh, I just meant..."

"I'm just playing with you," Christina laughs. "You can borrow any dress from my closet you'd like."

"Really? I mean, I don't start work at Ground Control for another week or so, and I'm planning on still looking in case something better comes along." I say, adding to the unnecessary web of lies that I'll need to keep tabs on.

"Jeez...you sound like a woman who's looking for a husband."

My face freezes in a disgusted grimace.

"I'm just kidding" Christina laughs.

Micah is sitting next to me, struggling with his pie. I cut it into small pieces for him and grin.

"Thank you, Lina," he says. Seeing Micah, he's so cute, it overwhelms me. I can't resist and reach out and draw him to me in a big bear hug. His fork falls from his hand onto the floor.

"I love you, Micah."

"I love you too Lina!" He tries to set himself free from my clingy embrace. "If it's OK with you, can I eat now? I need a new fork."

"I'll bring you one," Christina says, getting up from her chair. "So, Alina, I really want to know what happened this afternoon that's got you into such a good mood. Something magical, I bet."

Sort of true, it is all a bit magical, how the four of us have met in Mentior, how we all have come to together. I know for a fact that this is not how the preparation process is supposed to go. I'm supposed to be suffering, not smiling and glowing. All I know so far is that Nicole is real and she's a Dator. Is it possible that Sophie and Gabriel are just the creations of our sore and broken minds? Even if that's the case, it's not going to change my destiny in any way.

"I have a dress in mind for you for tomorrow," Christina says with a wink.

After dinner, she lays out a beautiful royal blue dress on the bed for me to try on, together with a white cardigan to cover up my scars."There you go! What do you think of that outfit?"

"It's perfect!" I say, hugging Christina. "Thank you very much."

"No problem. I hope your interviewers will like it."

I blush. I hate that I'm lying to her.

"Listen," she says, "you and Micah can stay here again tonight and tomorrow. Then, since we're going camping, could you house-sit for us over the weekend? What do you think?"

I'm ready to start jumping up and down from joy! Time spent without Gloria being in the picture is a pure blessing!

"That would be awesome!" I say, clapping my hands together with joy. "I'll stop by our house tomorrow and pick up a few things for Micah so that he will be all ready for the weekend." How could I have gotten so lucky? Christina is a saint.

"Excellent! Let me know how tomorrow goes."

Back at Ultima, Dr. Kismen looks like a mess. Her black lab coat is incorrectly buttoned, and her red shirt is peeking out in small bunches between the gaping buttons. The makeup is gone from her face, and her hair is frizzy. Her eyes are puffy, red and sunken; her smile is broken in two.

"Are you OK?" I ask.

"Fine," she says sharply, "I'm fine.

"You don't seem fine," I say while sitting down on the bed to get ready for my session.

Deanna sighs heavily."Honestly, I'm fine. Let's just begin the session."

I can't help but press. "I'm only asking—maybe I can help somehow."

She looks at me with her heavy eyes and says, "Oh Alina, you are the last person I would ask for help." She moves her eyes more slowly like they are heavy, an effort to move.

That hurt.

It's clear she doesn't want to talk. "Come on, let's start," she says, as I lie down and she connects the Mentior.

The transparent visor of the helmet comes down, and I close my eyes. The tingling feeling rushes through my temples. I feel my heart beating, a great pounding, a strong pressure. What awaits me next in the Mentior?

When I open my eyes, I look down at my feet and recognize the dry grass of my high school grounds. Soon I would be sitting in a classroom, the center of mockery for all of the students and even the teacher.

Unless, of course, I run.

I put all my energy into running back to the Theater. I want to see Nicole, Sophie, and Gabriel again. I want to be around people who care about me. As I sprint, my legs burn. I stop to catch my breath and see a bus approaching. I recognize the bus number; it should get me to the city center pretty quickly. I hop on. The anticipation is killing me, and I keep shifting around in my seat.

Finally, the beautiful white theater appears ahead of me. I have arrived. My eyes dart around, trying to locate my friends.

I hear a male's voice from a distance."Alina!"

It's definitely Gabriel! He found me! I turn and see him approaching. He looks handsome in his blue jeans and black shirt. He's holding a bouquet of white flowers.

"Hello," I say in a deep voice.

"Hi, Alina!" Gabriel goes in for a hug, but for some reason I once again find myself pulling back.

"Oh," Gabriel says, scratching his head. "These are for you." He hands me the flowers.

"What are these for?" I ask. I gather from his reaction that I'm supposed to be excited about the flowers.

"That's an interesting reaction," he says. "Usually, it's more along the lines of 'thank you.'"

"Thank you," I say, dryly, and my lack of gratitude is obvious.

"They are white lilies," Gabriel continues, seeking something positive in my response."They reminded me of you."

I don't have any positivity to give. All my happy, positive emotions are buried under a thick layer of anxiety and depression. "Have you seen Sophie and Nicole today?" I ask, looking around hoping to see them walking toward me.

"No, I haven't seen them yet. I'm sure they'll turn up soon. Do you want to take a walk in the gardens while we wait?"

I'm curious to know if Gabriel exists in real life. Right now, his presence is as real to me as my own breath. As we walk toward the gardens, he asks,

"Tell me Alina, who are you? Are you a Receiver?"

"I'm sorry?"My heart drops, I don't want to talk about this, not right now, not on this perfect day.

"I'm just wondering if you are a Receiver." he says again.

I awkwardly change the subject. "Where could Nicole and Sophie be?"

"I understand if you don't want to answer me, but maybe you can at least tell me who Sophie and Nicole are?"

I let out a sigh. "Sophie is one of the Receivers or at least Nicole, and I think so."

"And you? Are you also a Receiver? I mean, yesterday I just assumed you were, but I never actually asked."

He renders me speechless. I stand as if paralyzed from the neck up. I can't bring myself to answer truthfully and instead find myself nodding yes.

"I see," he says.

"What about you?" I finally ask.

"Yes, I am too."

I feel as though I have betrayed him and must come clean. "Well, actually, I... actually I'm a Da—"

"Look!" Gabriel shouts, interrupting my confession, "Isn't that Sophie and Nicole over there?" He points at a woman and a little girl who resemble Sophie and Nicole.

"No, that's not them," I say. I start to think perhaps today is not the day to tell him the truth about what I am.

"Sorry. It looked like them," he said. "Come, let's go and sit on the hill over there. It gives us a great view of the harbor, plus we'll be able to spot Nicole and Sophie a lot easier."

When we reach the top, Gabriel sits down next to me. I cringe inside, wishing I could curl up into a ball like a hedgehog. He is sitting too close. I close my eyes and tell myself that he just wants to sit, that he's not out to get me.

"So, tell me your story, Alina." Gabriel turns his eyes on me.

I rehearse what I might say in my head: From the beginning of my life, I was unwanted. Through 18 years, I had to go through the hardship of domestic violence, abuse, and a brutal rape. I'm just full of sadness, pain, and regret. The only way out from my sadness and uneasiness was the opportunity to sell my life. And here I am, sitting next to you, casually chatting. But of course, I can't say that."You first," I say instead, hitting the ball back into his court.

"You really want to know?"

"I do," I say, though I admit his question has me nervous.

"OK. Well, let's say that I had everything that any boy my age would ever want and more, you know?"

I don't know, but nod.

"Until one day, everything disappeared—absolutely everything. Darkness was all there was."Gabriel sighs and looks off into the distance."I was a real unappreciative piece of shit. You know, one of those rich, arrogant and ignorant assholes who flash their parent's money and bully people?"

"Oh, do I know them!" I say with wide open eyes. "I had to face people like that in my high school all the time. We had a lot of bullies—cruel ones too—but they weren't rich. I was awkward and quiet, didn't talk much, and couldn't stand up for myself. There was a lot of cyber bullying as especially after one incident, but I don't want to talk about it. It was tough." I swallow the lump in my throat; I hate thinking about that time, especially given that right now I'm supposed to be reliving those horrible memories.

"Oh, Alina," Gabriel says, his eyes full of genuine sadness. "I'm so sorry you had to go through that. It must have been tough."

"It's all in the past," I say.

"Nonsense. Bullying probably left a mark in your heart," Gabriel says."I was such an asshole in high school; I sure hurt a lot of people. I hate myself for that, I do. But I've been punished for it, believe me..." He tears a handful of grass from the ground."I thought it was the end. I had accepted death. I was ready to look it in the face. Until—" he stops his speaking abruptly.

"What?" I ask."What until what?"

"Let me start at the beginning." It was clear he needed to talk."I was always spoiled; I got everything I wanted from my parents. It was easy to manipulate them, and I did it very well. I feel bad about it now. They went through some misfortunes. I was tolerable until I hit puberty—that's when I completely lost my head. I refused to take responsibility for my actions; I would disrespect and humiliate people at the drop of a hat. Bullying, lying, taking advantage of everyone and everything became my life. And I surrounded myself with people just like me: worthless and empty..." He looks away, trying to hide his eyes from the shining sun."I used girls, too. Lied to them, pretended I cared, and when I got what I wanted I would be gone in an instant."

"So I can't trust you?"

"I've changed. My illness changed me. In some ways, it made me a better person."

I can sense the sincerity in his words, in his eyes.

"As soon as I got sick, all my so-called friends disappeared, and my bimbo girlfriend was gone in the blink of an eye. Only my parents are helping me to get through this. I have to admit, it's a little sad not to have any real friends." He sighs.

"How did you get sick?" I ask.

"It's ironic, actually. In this day and age, we rely on technology for everything. Even now, here we are, sitting and talking in a virtual system, waiting for new life to be received."

"Well, if not for technological advancement, you'd probably have been dead by now," I say.

"True, but it's because of technology I fell ill.

Have you heard of the Salus machine?"

"I think I saw ads for it on TV; it's that machine that detects any dangers to your body or your predisposition to any kind of cancer or any other lethal illnesses, right? Did you have one?"

"Yes, unfortunately. I did. My parents took every precaution to prevent me from getting sick."

"How does it work?" I ask, genuinely curious.

"It's like a fancy sensor installed in the bathroom. Every morning it collects data from my blood, my breath, and my urine, and then analyses and interprets it, then reporting if there are any threats to my body."

"Sounds fascinating."

"In theory, it is." Gabriel looks down. "I thought I was invincible; I thought everything would work out for me. My parents have money; I have this machine that will look after my health."

"So what happened?" I ask.

"The inevitable happened. I passed out during a football practice. I was rushed to the hospital right away. It turned out I had terminal cancer, and it's not operable. My parents and I were devastated. There were warning signs before my diagnosis, but I ignored them. Hell, I have a Salus! It should've told me if there is anything wrong with me, right?"

"Right."

"If I had run to the doctor the first time I knew something wasn't right, maybe I would still have had a chance for survival, but I trusted the machine too much. After my diagnosis, we tested my Salus, and it turned out that it had been broken for a year and a half, hence the lack of warnings." Gabriel sighs. "It definitely taught me few lessons. One is that you can't let technology run your life. Even now, my parents and I are relying on the fact that the Conversion will work out and I'll receive a new life—that I'll live happily ever after. There are no guarantees it will work, but my family doesn't have a choice but to believe it will."

We sit in silence for a few moments, both immersed in thought. I think it's time for me to tell him that I'm not going to be receiving a new life at all, but had in reality sold mine. But he speaks first."I hope the Conversion works. Like I said, I was ready to die, I'd sealed my fate, I was prepared for it. But then..." Gabriel gives me a look.

"Then what?"

"Then I met you."

"How can you say that?" I can't believe it. "We've only known each other for an hour!"

"It doesn't matter how long we've known each other," Gabriel says, "I know I like spending time with you and I feel like I shouldn't give up on us now. I want to hope for the best, hope that the Conversion works—for both of us—and that we can meet again in the real world." He turns to look at me."When I woke up today, I felt like fighting for or the first time since my diagnosis. I felt alive. I just know it will work out. There is no doubt in my mind."

I don't have the emotional strength to open up to him right now. He's so happy, I can't bring him down.

"If you're dying of cancer, how is it you look so good?" That came out wrong. I meant healthy. Hopefully, he doesn't take it the wrong way.

"Well, it's all part of the preparation process, right?" he says with a smile. "You don't look so bad yourself."

"Right." I bite my lip, embarrassed. Somehow, I need to get him to tell me more without raising any suspicion that I'm not a Receiver.

"You know, it's all part of creating a desirable future for yourself like they tell you," he says.

"I see," I said, though of course, I didn't. I only wish I knew what he meant. Why am I even trying to cover up the fact that I'm a Dator? I want to open up to him, but I don't know if I can trust him.

"When I'm connected to Mentior," he explains, "I can control how I look and what I wear and so on. When I first met you, I was contemplating my studies at the University. At first, I assumed you weren't real, just the creation of the Mentior, but now I know you are as real as me."

I'm deep in thought, trying to process everything. Finally, I ask, "Gabriel, don't you think it's weird how we all met, even though we weren't supposed to?"

"Who said we weren't supposed to meet?"

"You think we were?" I stutter, and my eyes open wide in surprise.

"My doctor never mentioned it, but if we're contemplating the same future and getting our minds and souls ready for new lives, then why wouldn't we meet? I mean, aren't we all waiting to receive a new life?" Gabriel asks.

"Not quite," I say, looking away.

"What do you mean? I thought you said you were a Receiver."

"Oh," I say, not wanting to admit anything just yet, "I was talking about Nicole."

"She's not a Receiver?" Gabriel asks, shocked.

"She sold her life," I say plainly.

"She did?"

"Yes, she did. She told me about it."

"Why in the world would she do that? Why would anyone want to sell their life? People don't understand how precious life is."

"People have their reasons," I say, fighting the sinking feeling in my stomach."And if no one sold their life, then you wouldn't have gotten a second chance."

"I guess so," Gabriel says. "So what was Nicole's reason?"

"She lost everything that mattered to her."

"What do you mean?"

"She lost her family, both her husband and daughter in a car crash." I look down and then up to search the faces of the people walking around the theater, trying to spot Nicole and Sophie.

"That's so sad."

"Indeed it is," I say with a sigh.

Gabriel moves closer to me and puts his arm around me. I grit my teeth to avoid the urge to fight him off. He leans in close, trying to catch my eyes, but I keep them hidden. I'm nervous—very nervous. A tear falls down my cheek, and Gabriel gently catches it with his finger. He is now close enough that I can feel his breath on my skin. I finally look at him and see his lips approaching mine.

"I can't do this!" I yell.

"Do what, Alina?" Gabriel stands up and tries to calm me down.

"This!"I say, gesturing wildly with my hands. "I mean, whatever you were trying to do. I'm not ready, I'm not ready!" I'm breathing hard and am short of breath.

"I'm so sorry, I must have gotten carried away," he says. "I don't know what happened." He puts his hand on his forehead.

I feel terrible about my reaction, but I'm unable to control it. The fear of getting hurt is too strong."I'm not like other girls, Gabriel," I say, trying to sound calm.

"I know that," Gabriel says.

"It's not easy for me to relax. I've been—well, I just don't like being touched." I look at him.

"Right. Again, I'm sorry; it won't happen again. I give you my word." He sounds sincere."All I wanted to do was comfort you. I truly meant you no harm. I thought you were upset about Nicole and clearly, I went too far."

"Listen," I say, putting my hand on his shoulder. "You can't just attempt to kiss someone you've only known for a day."

"Hey look!" he interrupts. "Is that Nicole and Sophie down there?" He points down the hill.

"Yes, it's them!" I shout, greatly relieved to see them and also to lighten the mood. We run down the stairs side by side and head towards the theater.

"Hey there," I say, picking up Sophie and giving her a big smooch on her beautiful rosy cheek. "Where have you been all day?"

"We were walking around, enjoying the city," Nicole says."What were you guys doing?"

I stutter. "We were—"

"—just talking," Gabriel says, quickly cutting in to avoid an embarrassment.

Nicole looks at him and then over to me. "Gabriel, why don't you take Sophie for a walk? We'll catch up with you. I just need to discuss some girl stuff with Alina." He shrugs and takes Sophie by the hand. Nicole grabs my arm and pulls me aside. I feel as if I'm in trouble.

"What the hell are you doing?" Nicole whispers.

"What do you mean?"

"What do I mean? You know what I mean: with Gabriel! What's going on with you two?"

"Nothing."

"Right."

"Does he know who you are?"

"Who am I?"

"Oh, stop being foolish. He's a Receiver, right? Does he know you're a Dator?"

I bite my tongue.

"Well, does he?"

"No, I haven't told him yet," I say.

"Why not?" Nicole says, unimpressed.

"I can't, not today, but I'll tell him eventually."

"I just hope it won't be too late," she warns.

"What do you mean?"

"I have a feeling it's not going to end well."

"Of course it's not going to end well; I'm going to die." I pull away from her and step forward.

"I'm sorry, Alina. I guess I'm just being a little over protective. But I can tell that he likes you." Nicole says softly.

"Nonsense. In the short time that I've spent with him, I get the impression that he doesn't like anyone but himself."

"Why do you say that?" Nicole asks.

"He told me he was a selfish person, that he used people. Then he got sick, and all his friends turned their backs on him. According to him, that changed him; but I don't believe it."

"Why not? You'd be surprised how people can change. I know that for sure." She looks over at Sophie.

"Do they?" I ask. "Will my mother ever change? My grandmother never changed, and she died a miserable and unhappy person."

"People change," Nicole says. "I know I'm changing. My outlook on things is gradually transforming. Too bad it's just a little too late." She grins ever so slightly. "Anyway, if you ask me, I think you should tell Gabriel who you are now, not later."

"I'll keep that in mind," I say, clearly just trying to end this conversation. I walk two steps ahead of her towards Gabriel and Sophie.

"This all so bizarre," Nicole mumbles under her breath as she walks behind me. "I still can't believe we cheated our memories and somehow connected with Receivers."

"Let's meet around here tomorrow," I suggest.

"That sounds good." Nicole smiles.

I can't help but think about Nicole's words. I'm scared. What if Mentior doesn't work? What if Gabriel and Sophie don't actually receive new lives? How can I know if Sophie is receiving my life? Who is going to receive Nicole's life? The life exchange is all based on money, not compatibility. If you can't afford to pay for a long lifespan, you get an "older" life. In theory, it's possible that Sophie might be getting Nicole's life given Sophie's comment about her parents not having anything anymore. How will I find out the truth?

I look over at Sophie, and she also doesn't look ill—she looks perfectly healthy. She and Gabriel are creating their new reality, which must be why we met her at the amusement park and Gabriel at the University. Somehow, the Mentior has intertwined their alternative realities and Nicole and my memories.

Here we are, four of us, so carefree, walking into the sunset. The light display looks astonishing against the steel pylons of the stunning bridge. We all watch the sun sink into the horizon, and I stand next to Gabriel. I decide to release my fear and wrap my fingers around his right hand. The touching of skin creates an electric wave of excitement that runs through my body. I let myself feel the warmth of his fingers on my hand. I stand motionless. The world seems to stop turning.

"Will I see you tomorrow?" Gabriel says, looking straight into my eyes.

"Yes, I'll meet you by the theater."I catch his eyes glancing at my lips. He won't try anything, though; he knows better now.

BROKEN FEAR

When I open my eyes, I feel Dr. Kismen's cold hands on my temples. She silently removes my helmet. This is the quietest she's been after a session. I'm hesitant to ask her what's wrong since our last conversation didn't go so well.

I reluctantly get off the bed and put on my shoes; still not saying a word, she leaves the glass room and walks out into the hall. I follow after."Can I ask you something, Dr. Kismen?"

"Sure," she sighs, obviously not in the mood to talk.

I look her in the eyes; they are not as puffy as they were this morning, but still show signs of sadness. "I was just wondering how everything is going with the preparation process. I mean, is everything working fine? Will the Receiver get my life?" I'm doing my best not to sound apprehensive.

"As I said the last time you asked, yes, everything is going well—we make sure of it." She looks away as we enter the elevator together. An uncomfortable silence lingers over us.

"Look," I say, hoping to break the tension, "if I've somehow offended you or said something I shouldn't have, I apologize; I didn't mean to."

"Alina, it's nothing to do with you, OK?" She exits the elevator and holds the door for me.

"All right, I get it," I say. But I can't let it go; I want to get into her head. I block the way to the office and ask, "So what is it, then?"

She's clearly flustered and tries to walk around me. "What is this? Why are you asking me all these questions?"

"Because I care about you," I say without thinking.

"Well, you shouldn't" she mutters."I'm merely your doctor, and soon you'll be gone."

Her words cut deep. She's right, of course—my days are numbered. Without saying anything, I turn and walk toward reception.

"No, Alina, wait, that's not what I wanted to say." Dr. Kismen rushes down the hall after me.

"It's fine," I say, holding back my tears. "You are just being honest. I shouldn't pry. You clearly didn't want to talk, and I kept grilling you."I realize now that aside from Micah, I've never cared about how other people felt or what kind of mood they were in because I was only concerned with my own desolation. It's as if my world is opening up and things are starting to change; I'm noticing the people around me.

"Alina, I apologize for my mood today. I should be more professional. It's just, you know, today isn't my day."

"Not your day?"

"Right, I'm feeling particularly sad today."

"Why?" I ask. I can't help myself.

"It's hard to explain, Alina. Plus, it'd be unprofessional to share it with you." She looks at me, begging me with her eyes to back off. I shrug, and as I'm about to turn around, she continues, "You are such a pretty young girl, with so much to live for..."She takes a deep breath. "Why did you have to go and make this terrible decision?"

"What do you mean?" I'm petrified.

"Your decision to sell your life! You are a silly, silly girl" she turns around and heads back to her office.

I run to the exit, ignoring Dolores on my way out. I need to get some fresh air and think.

Why would she say that to me? It's clearly not in her interest to discourage me from participating in the program. Perhaps I'm bothered because she could be right. What if it was the wrong decision?

The noise from the approaching bus seems louder today than other days. On the bus, I feel sick to the point of wanting to throw up, contemplating my immanent encounter with Gloria—I really don't want to see her face, but I need to pick up Micah's stuff for his upcoming camping trip. I try an old tactic, taking deep breaths, and counting. Inhale, count; exhale, count. It will be OK, I think to myself. I close my eyes and push away the image of Gloria. As soon as I do, Gabriel's image replaces it. I shake my head. Why can't I just not think for once? No dark thoughts, no happy thoughts—just, nothing. I wish my memories could be destroyed now before the Conversion and not on the day it will take place How nice it would be to have a clear head that is free from all memories, logic, and thought. Dr. Kismen's words echo in mind: "Soon you'll be gone...Soon you'll be gone..." Replaying those words over and over gets me thinking: That's right, I don't have long to live. I can do whatever I want! I need to put my worry and doubt behind me and take control.

Having Gabriel around creates mixed feelings within me. His gaze thrills me but makes me uncomfortable. His touch excites and terrifies me all at the same time. However, I can't shake the memories of that monster from my past, the one who stole my childhood and forever ruined my existence. Why, though? Why can't I let these evil memories and thoughts go? Why can't my mind set me free? It's been four years, but time hasn't healed me, and now I have precious little time left. Tears stream down my face as I realize that I will die without knowing the love between myself and a man.

I lightly hit the sides of my head with my fists; in the hope that it will help me get past my misery and sadness. My mind needs to absorb the fact that self-harm doesn't help anything.

Stop! Stop! This is all too much. I need a moment.

Images of Nicole, Sophie, Dr. Kismen, Gabriel, and Gloria spin in circles through my head. I leap from my seat, realizing that I'm getting close to my stop. Don't think about Gloria, I say to myself. Stop thinking about her altogether—she can't hurt you anymore.

I get off the bus and see my house. Pain and sadness are all I have connecting me to it. As I approach, I squeeze my stomach to ease my anxiety. I have to just do it! Just grab Micah's belongings and make a run for it! I'll be at Christina's place this whole weekend—I will get to enjoy a real home once again, for a change.

I take one last breath as I turn the key in the door. I manage to get inside without making a peep, but then my keys slip through my fingers and fall hard onto the wooden floor. Shit.

"Who's that?" Gloria yells in her husky, drunken voice. "I said... who is it?" she shouts again as she struggles off the couch and toward the door.

"It's me!" I say.

"What?"She says as she appears I the doorway to stand in front of me. She looks rabid-dirty and disgusting. She just stares at me with glazed-over eyes, holding a cigarette, and swaying drunkenly."Where the hell have you been?"
"I've been looking for a job," I reply calmly.

"Finally, something productive," she responds, blowing foul second-hand smoke in my face.

I wave away the disgusting smell. I'm strong, I can fight this woman. I step forward and simply walk around her.

Shocked that I didn't take the bait, Gloria clumsily walks behind me and tries to grab my arm. I pull myself away from her weak grasp with ease. "What do you want?" I say firmly. It catches her completely off-guard. She pulls herself back, and I head toward the bedroom.

"Stop right there you little brat!" Gloria screams as she storms into the bedroom and falls to the floor face first.

"What? What do you want, Gloria?" My new found self-confidence somehow strikes a cord with Gloria who gathers herself up from the floor by clutching the back of a chair and seems o sober up quickly.

"Don't—" she says just before a series of burps and hiccups.

I grab my backpack from underneath the chair holding her upright. All I need to do is to get the clothes hanging in the closet. I don't ever want to come back here again. I will beg Christina to let us stay for another three weeks, then Micah will be back with his grandparents, and I will be gone forever. I notice Gloria slyly observing me as I gather our belongings. "What are you staring at?" I throw a shirt at her. I can't believe it's me right now standing in our house and talking back like this. Did Mentior change me?

"Don't you talk to your mother like that!"Gloria says angrily, hiccupping again. "Have some damn respect."

"My mother? You must be joking!" I sneer back.

"Where is Micah?"

"Don't worry about it. He's fine, and so am I."I continue filling my backpack with clothes and don't even bother looking at her.

"What are you doing?"

"I'm packing my clothes! Are you blind? Can't you see that? Maybe your years of nonstop drinking have blurred your vision!"

"Watch yourself!" She points and snarls at me threateningly. "You have no idea who you are dealing with."

"I know exactly who I'm dealing with!" I zip up my now full backpack and look up at Gloria. I need to walk past her to make it out of the bedroom. But now I have no fear. With confidence and my head held high, I walk past her and into the living room. I'm almost at the door when I feel her hand on my backpack. She grabs it from my shoulders and throws it across the room. It falls open, and the clothes scatter all over the floor.

"You are not going anywhere!" she screams and sways.

"Says who?" I say, grabbing the scattered clothes and my diary off the floor and shoving them back into my bag. I'm not scared. I'm surpassingly calm. I pick up whatever items I see in front me and if I forget something, so be it; I can't stand being in the same room with this disgusting human being any longer.

"I'm your mother, and I'm telling you!" Gloria screams at me.

"Don't kid yourself, you aren't my mother—you have never been!"

"Bring back Micah, Alina!"

"Never. I will never let him near you or stay with you anymore! You don't deserve to be his mother!"

"That's enough!"Gloria is clearly growing more agitated and out of control. She can't accept the fact she's not in control anymore; I'm not her property, I'm not her punching bag.

I'm nearly out the door when I feel the tight squeeze of her claw-like hand on my arm. Through gritted teeth, she says, "I said you are not stepping out of this house."

"Let go of me," I say as calmly as I can. "I have to go."She doesn't, of course.

"You are staying here, you waste of space."

I can smell the alcohol and cigarettes on her breath, and it makes me sick. I manage to pull myself free, and as she tries to grab me again, I push myself out of her way. Her eyes are full of hate. She surely didn't see this coming; her daughter can fight back. "You will regret this," she says angrily, trying to intimidate me.

"Sure I will," I answer sarcastically.

"You'd better bring Micah back!"Her voice cracks. "If you don't, I'll kill you—I mean it!" It's all bluster with her. I just laugh at the threat—she's lucky to get up off the couch most days."What are you laughing at, you dirty, conniving little bitch!" She manages to grab my arm again."You have no idea the can of worms you've just opened! You will regret it!"

"Yeah? What are you going to do this time? Sell me to another man for hundred bucks?" I say with anger. "I'm not thirteen anymore. I'm smarter and stronger." With that, I yank my arm back away from her grasp.

"You ungrateful little piece of—"

Shut up!" I say. "We are done here, Gloria! You stay away from Micah and me. Forget we were ever born!"I open the front door and run outside. I hear her voice echoing behind me: "I'll find out what you are up to! I'm going to find you both! THIS IS NOT GOING TO END WELL FOR YOU!"

Her empty threats don't bother me. They are nothing, just a bunch of hot air. I'm proud that I wasn't defeated by her, that I was able to repel her anger. I have changed; I feel different inside. Today, I managed to let go of one of my biggest fears. No more emotional or physical abuse: I'm done with it.

I make it to Christina's house, exhausted but still on a high from my victory in the battle against Gloria. Later that night, Cristina gently closed the door to the spare bedroom where Micah and I are staying and wished us goodnight. Tomorrow will be a big day for him—he's going camping. All he talked about at dinner was how much fun he and Bennett will have at the lake, what games they plan to play, what food they'll eat. They will be on their way tomorrow morning before I go to Ultima.

I toss and turn in bed, unable to find a comfortable position. I hate to admit it to myself, but my mind can't erase Gabriel's face. I keep replaying the encounters we've had. I can almost feel his hand in mine."Go, please," I whisper to myself, hoping to chase away the image of Gabriel. "Leave me alone." But it remains. I do want to see him again, and I still can't explain to myself why I just don't reveal who I am to him. Am I afraid to disappoint him? Why would that even matter?

I turn onto my back and stare up at the ceiling. I count the hours until I have to get up, and I can feel my worry increase again. I breathe. I need to get some sleep. I put my hand on my forehead to try and calm down. I'm nervous about seeing Gabriel tomorrow. My stomach is tight, but it doesn't feel like anxiety this time. Could it be butterflies? Ugh, that's way too romantic for me.

Micah has been asleep for awhile now; I can't believe I'm still awake. Perhaps its anxiety about leaving loose ends? Gloria is taken care of, I won't have to see her again. And as soon the Conversion is done, Micah will go to his grandparents. I exhale and catch myself thinking of what I'm going to wear tomorrow. Why would I care? Am I trying to impress Gabriel?

When will I bring myself to tell Christina about the Conversion? That I've sold my life. It's going to be difficult. How can I break the sad news to her, to someone who has been so kind to me and asked for nothing in return?

I turn onto my side; I never could fall asleep on my back. But tonight even my side is uncomfortable; my shoulder hurts, so I roll onto my back again and cover my face with the blanket. I'm so confused! I'm not afraid of death; I'm really not. I'm only afraid of fighting my fear. I have so little time remaining to live; I want to know what love is! I want to die fearlessly. I want to experience closeness; I want to feel attraction. I have no time to reason; I have no time to analyze.

CLOSER

When I open my eyes, I feel absolutely exhausted. I didn't even hear Christina, Matt, and the boys leaving. I'm frustrated that I didn't get to say goodbye to Micah. I won't see him for the whole weekend. I sit up in bed and take a moment to think. My mind is racing, but the anticipation of today's Mentior session brings up in me an excitement that I've never felt before. It soothes me, and I find myself smiling.

Christina had laid out a few dresses for me. I pick a fun, orange cotton dress with a pleated waistband and pockets. Incredible color! I pair it with a white cardigan, to cover up my scars and the Ultima black bracelet. I hope they remove this bracelet from my wrist when I die.

When I get to Ultima, Dr. Kismen comments on my dress. "Such a bright color!" she says, appearing to be in much better spirits today. I crack my knuckles out of nervousness as we walk to the treatment room. I still have to get used to this procedure, and the uneasiness is overwhelming. "That sounds painful," Dr. Kismen says, grimacing.

The Mentior is connected, and I'm laying down on the bed. "So, how are you today?" I ask.

"I'm fine, thank you for asking." She looks down at her shoes. "And, again, I wanted to apologize about yesterday."She clears her throat. "If I said something upsetting, it wasn't my intention."

"It's fine," I reply with an easy smile. "We all have days like that." and finally catch her eyes. "That's very true," she says, returning my smile.

I can still see the sadness in her eyes. As she's about to put the helmet on me, I touch her forearm and stop her, saying, "What did you mean yesterday when you said I made a deadly wrong decision?"

"Alina, please don't read too much into it. Yesterday was just a bad day for me."

I push back. "Please don't waste my time by using canned phrases to explain yourself. Just please tell me why you think I've made the wrong decision? Pretend I'm your friend, not a patient."

She sighs, knowing I won't let it go unless she gives me something. "I just think we are all given life, and we should live it and make the most of it."I don't pressure her to tell me more—there is little else she can say. "Let's begin now," she says quietly.

The visor drops over my eyes. My heart beats fast, but this time it's not because I'm afraid of my memories, but because I know that soon I will be with Gabriel.

I know the route from my high school grounds to the city center very well now. It takes me only a few moments to escape my memory and head toward the harbor.

The harbor is home to creaking boats on waves and gulls that fill the air with beating wings and mournful cries. There you can smell the salty breeze and the fresh white paint along the sea wall. The ocean brings life, movement, and a place to rest the eye away from the bustle of life in the city. But above all for me, it is where I meet my friends. Friends that, at the moment, I can't seem to find. I crack my knuckles, once for luck. "They should be here any minute now," I say out loud to calm myself down.

I feel a light tap on my shoulder, and a sudden rush of heat travels through my body. I jump back with a scream from the scare.

"Easy, easy, Alina! It's just me!" Gabriel says as he slowly turns me to face him.

"You really scared me there!" I say, catching my breath.

"Yes I know," I'm always on guard; it's from never knowing if Gloria's fist would be coming at me from somewhere.

"Sorry about that. Hey, nice color by the way. You look great."Gabriel defuses an awkward moment for us both.

I blush.

"No flowers today?" I ask.

"Ha, no, not today."

I pretend to look for the others."Have you seen Nicole and Sophie?"

"I haven't, no. They might be at Fantasy world again, I suppose. I wouldn't be surprised if that's the case, Sophie can probably only picture her perfect future there.

"Do you want to go across the bridge and look for them?" Gabriel asks.

"Can we?"

"Certainly, we have the whole day."

I start walking, knowing that he will follow. Should I tell him now that I'm a Dator? Should I wait until the end of the day? I can't seem to find any words...It should be so simple for me to explain—it's not like I'm breaking the news to Micah or something.

"What are you thinking about?" Gabriel asks.

"Life," I say with a frown. "Look, Gabriel, I have to tell you something."

"Sure, what is it?" Gabriel stops and listens. I look into his blue eyes and suddenly can't speak.

"Yes Alina, I'm listening. What do you need to tell me?"

I still can't find the words, any words.... "Um..."

Gabriel can see that I'm struggling and tries to help me out by releasing the pressure. "Well, whenever you're ready, you can tell me."

"Thank you," I say, looking down. We keep walking in silence.

Around the wharf, people are rushing around, going about their business, trying to catch a ferry or a train. It's a strange feeling to be invisible—we're just strolling around without a care. I catch myself staring at Gabriel. He's curious, looking around, watching people. He's developed a taste for life. It's odd being next to someone who's fighting so hard to live when I've given up.

Ahead of us is the oldest quarter of the city. I've been here a few times. From what I remember, this is where European settlers stepped ashore in the seventeenth century. This area went through a significant transformation over two hundred years from a rowdy, raucous settlement of convicts, soldiers, sailors, and street gangs into a slick, trendy area with cool coffee shops and overpriced restaurants.

There is a steep flight of stairs to climb before we can get to the base of the bridge. Gabriel extends his hand to me. "Don't worry, Alina; I'm not trying to hit on you. I just want to help you up to these stairs," he says with sincerity. I'm skeptical. I know it's just a simple gesture, but to me, it means a lot.

I reluctantly give him my hand, and he wraps his long fingers around it. Lights strokes of furor run through my blood. Skin contact with Gabriel feels so intense. I still can't figure out if I like it, but the fact is, I'm not afraid as I was two days ago. One step at a time, I guess—I only wish I had more time. He pulls me up the stairs quickly, but tenderly, and it's like we float to the top. I begin to laugh.

"What's so funny?" Gabriel asks, laughing as well, presumably supporting me.

"Nothing, I'm just feeling strange."

"How so?"

"I'm honestly not sure, I just feel like laughing, or even dancing!" I break into a little dance called a foxtrot that I'd seen in a movie a while back.

"Wow!"Gabriel chuckles."I think the word that you are looking for is 'happy'?"

"Happy?" I ask, taken aback at the idea.

"I mean, you look happy," Gabriel says.

"I'm happy! I'm happy!" I shout the words as I jump up and down on the spot and clap my hands. I spread my arms and spin. "I'm happy!"

Gabriel's chuckle turns into a loud laugh. "If I'd known that climbing stairs could make someone so happy, I would have done it more often!"

I look at him; I know my face radiates light.

"You probably won't believe me, but, in all honesty, I've never really felt happy. This is a very new feeling for me."

Gabriel reaches for my hand as we start to walk again, but I pull away.

We walk further along to where the magnificent bridge begins. "Did you know," he asks, pointing ahead, "that this Bridge is the largest steel arch bridge in the world?"He pauses and then clarifies. "Not the longest, but still the largest."

"Really?"

"Yes," he says, looking down."I know, I know. Useless information."

"No, no! Very informative."

"I'm full of trivia like that."

I sprint ahead. I'm feeling free and like I'm somehow detached from the earth. Even though I have contemplated suicide on this bridge so many times, I now look at it differently. I look at it as "the world's largest steel arch bridge."Gabriel follows and finally catches me, wrapping his hands around my waist. I accept it—he's not going to hurt me.

"What was that about?" he asks, holding me tight.

I turn in his arms, facing his lips. "I just—I just wanted to run."

"You are so pretty," he says. I can see his pupils dilate with need.

In this moment, in his arms, I do feel pretty. "I know," I say, freeing myself from his embrace. This might be the first time I ever believed that I could really be pretty.

"You are something else," he says, grinning.

I laugh. The weather just couldn't be any better. It's sunny and warm. Only now do I realize how privileged I am—or, was, I guess—to live in this city with over 300 days of sunshine.

Sometime ago there was a temporary suicide prevention barrier erected on the bridge made of concrete crash barriers topped with a welded mesh fence. A permanent barrier fence now stands in its place. I was sad when it was completed—I was too late to commit what I thought would be a poetic suicide by jumping from the bridge. But I still admire this enormous arch that straddles the beautiful Harbor.

I touch the fence, it's cold. I have fantasized about cutting through the fence and jumping down to my death. Surveillance cameras are always watching, though, so maybe I would have been saved.

"What are you thinking about?" Gabriel asks.

"Have you ever wanted to jump?" I ask, turning to him.

"Jump? From here?"

"Yes."

"No," he says. "I don't think so. I mean if I jump I will die, obviously, unless I drop a heavy object first to break the surface of the water" he pauses "Sorry another piece of useless information, but going back to your question, I've never, ever wanted to commit suicide." he looks at me. "I mean, when I found I was sick, I got scared, and while I got to the point where I learned to accept death, I never actually wanted to die." He looks out over the water, deep in thought. "It might sound corny, but I think life is the greatest gift than anyone can ever receive."

"You think so?" I sound more sarcastic than sincere.

"Absolutely." He turns back to me, looking concerned. "Why do you ask? Have you ever wanted to jump?"

"Sure. You say that life is the greatest gift. Me? I say, I never asked to be born."

"I guess no one asks to be born, but it's totally up to us how we chose to live our life."

I stare at the water and try to see through the glassy green surface to what lies below. I have my hands tightly clenched on the fence wires. The thought of jumping crosses my mind.

"Alina, what's wrong?"

"It's hard to explain. I'm just feeling anxious."

"About what?"

"About everything, I suppose. I'm depressed."

"What do you mean?"

"Like, sure, I'm functional—I can get out of bed each day and care for my brother. But the first thought I have when I wake up is, 'how soon can I end this?'"

"End what?" Gabriel looks worried.

"My life," I sigh.

"But why?"

"Lots of reasons I'd rather not get into right now."

"But you overcame it, no?"

"What do you mean?"

"You want to live now! You are a Receiver, right?"

I nervously play with my bracelet. I can't believe I still haven't told him who I actually am. "Gabriel, look..." I pause and turn toward him, putting both my hand flat against his chest. His heart beats fast, which excites me. Gabriel takes one of my hands in his and leans forward. I'm motionless and speechless. I close my eyes and try not to think—to just go with the flow. I can feel the heat of his lips, and they are not even touching mine yet. I'm dying of anticipation.

"I can't do this!" I shout as I rapidly turn away.

Gabriel runs his hands through my hair and directs my face towards his. I keep my eyes closed—I can't look at him.

"Don't be afraid," he whispers. Very softly, he touches his lips to mine. I keep my lips locked. I'm not ready to open up. He doesn't pressure me, moving back a little. He gently runs his thumb on my cheek.

I put a hand out to distance myself from him. "I'm sorry," I say, "I'm just not comfortable."My heart is beating like a jackhammer, and my vision is blurry. I put my hands on my temples and try to gather my thoughts. What do I feel right now? Excitement? Commotion? So angry that I can't figure out. My mood used to always be consistently sad, even at the times when I was with Micah; my heart would always break for him, knowing I can't give him a better future."I have issues," I admit.

"Is there anything I can do to help?" Gabriel asks, laying his hand on my back.

I hate that he is saying all the right words. It really complicates things. Why can't he just tell me it's all in my head, so I can write him off as an insensitive person who doesn't listen?

"You know," I say, "Sometimes I don't believe you."

"What do you mean?" he asks.

I awkwardly move away from him and begin to walk along the bridge.

"I mean, you told me all about your past—about how selfish and ungrateful you were, and how suddenly you've turned into this sensitive, thoughtful person. Are you being sincere or just pretending?"

"I'm being honest! Why would I pretend? I am who I am. I told you I have changed. People change. I'm not a bad person, Alina, I just made some bad choices. For god's sake, have more faith in people! Trust me"

Now I wish I hadn't asked him; I didn't realize how offensive the question would sound. He walks ahead, clearly not interested in listening or talking to me anymore.

I run through a list of cute things to say that might help me get Gabriel talking again, but I can't seem to come up with anything cheerful or positive. I drag my feet and walk several steps behind him, frantically looking for words to say. Why must I always ruin everything?

"Where are we going?" I finally ask.

"We're going to Fantasy world, aren't we?" he snaps back."To look for Nicole and Sophie?"

"Right, of course."I pick up speed, trying to catch up with him. "Why are you walking so fast?"

"Sorry, that's just the way I walk," he says indifferently.

"Are you mad at me?"

"No, I'm not mad. Just, just irritated, I think."

"Well, there's nothing I can do about that," I say, crossing my arms.

"Sure there is." Gabriel glances over at me and then keeps walking without an explanation.

"What can I do?" I ask.

He suddenly stops and cradles my face in his soft hands. "Stop doubting me," he says emphatically. "I'm real."

I'm dumbstruck, staring at his glimmering eyes. I'm losing control, I can feel it. I'm gasping for air.

"I know," I finally say, embarrassed. I maneuver his hands away from my face and step back to avoid any further contact. "I'm sorry for what I said earlier. I honestly didn't expect you to be so—"

"—so nice?" he interjects.

"Yes, so nice. I will be more considerate next time and watch what I say."

"You don't need to watch what you say," he argues.

"But—"

"You can just be yourself around me," he says, clasping his hands together. "But please, please don't doubt me."

"I won't," I say. I give him a smile, and we continue across the bridge.

He starts to tell me stories from his childhood but avoids any talk of siblings. When I ask if he has brothers or sisters, he quickly changes the subject. I guess I will never find out now.

I listen to him intently, and I'm mesmerized by the amount of information he knows—from the history of this city to the start of the internet to innovative technology. I've learned more from him in the past two hours that I did in ten years of school. The time has flown by.

"Did you know that about 150 million years ago snakes like other reptiles had paws? Then there were errors in the nucleotide sequence-related enhancers—sections of DNA that bind to certain molecules and enhance the activity of a gene.

"I—" It's all too academic for me.

"Oh," he says, realizing that I'm not following what he's saying. "Basically, snakes used to have paws, but they don't anymore."

"Right," I say. "You do read a lot!"

"Yes, I do! Especially since I got sick."

It dawns on me that we are probably nearing the end of my Mentior session and we still haven't located Nicole and Sophie. At this point, I doubt we'll see them today.

Gabriel turns in my direction. "I think it's kind of good that Conversion doesn't apply to old people."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean if the Conversation didn't have an age limit, then people would live forever."

"True," I say. I haven't actually put that much thought into it, probably because it doesn't affect me in any way—the date and time of my death have already been scheduled.

"The cut-off age to receive a new life is 39, and the older you are, the less of a life span you receive," he says. "I guess the life energy of a young person doesn't want to be trapped in an old body for too long. I don't really know the science behind it, but it seems reasonable to me."

"I suppose you're right," I say. "Are you parents older than 39?"

"Yes, they are."

"What if something were to happen to them? Would you be OK just letting them go? They wouldn't be able to take advantage of The Conversion."

He doesn't respond and just keeps walking. The question is too forward. We've almost made it across to the other side of the bridge, and Fantasy World is about ten minutes away.

I know we've probably missed Nicole and Sophie, but I'm not too upset about it. I'm glad to have spent my time with Gabriel.

"You know," he says. "You are the first person to challenge me."

"I am?"

"Yeah, my old friends and girlfriends would just agree with everything I said; they would follow me like a flock of sheep. Hell, sometimes even my teachers would agree with me. I think maybe they were just tired of me."

"I can see that," I say with a grin.

"Ha! You're cute."Gabriel smiles and puts an arm around my shoulders.

Why do I always feel this electric wave when he's close to me?

It feels like the electricity has been turned up, but I hide my face from him; he lets go, probably assuming that I'm feeling uncomfortable.

The session is nearly over, I can feel it. I admit I'm actually starting to enjoy the preparation process. It's a shame we didn't get to see Nicole and Sophie, but, at the same time, I've learned so much today, and I can't believe I almost kissed him.

Gabriel touches my forearm and looks at me. "What were you thinking?"

"It's weird, but I was thinking about you," I say.

"But I'm right here," Gabriel chuckles.

"I know, that's why I said it was weird."

"What exactly you were thinking?"

"That I almost kissed you."

"Not completely true, I almost kissed you," Gabriel laughs.

I close my eyes for a moment. We have to agree on a place for tomorrow."Gabriel, the session is almost over—can we meet by the theater again tomorrow?"

"Sure!" he says, elated."Sounds great!"

"I really hope we get to see Nicole and Sophie tomorrow," I say.

"Not me," Gabriel says, grinning widely.

"What?"

"Sorry, I just meant..." he covers his mouth with his hands and tries to come up with the right words."What I wanted to say was that they are great people, but, well, I really enjoy spending time with you one-on-one."

I roll my eyes.

"What?" he says. "You don't believe me?"

"I do believe you, don't worry. Anyway, the session is almost over. I will see you tomorrow by the theatre, OK?"

"Hey, how do you always know when the session is ending?" he asks me.

"Intuition." And as soon as I reply, I see darkness in front of my eyes.

It is October 2, and I'm halfway through the preparation process. Two more weeks and I will disappear from this planet.

EMBRACE

Being alone at Christina's house feels strange. I'm so used having her, Bennett, and Micah around. Now I feel lonely. I hope they're having a good time camping—I can picture Micah giggling himself silly, Christina cooking up something delicious, and Bennett being quiet and observant, fishing by the lake. Funny how things change: I'd always thought I would be happy on my own, but now there is a void in my heart without my new-found family and friends.

What is waiting for me on the other side of the Conversion? I hope whoever gets my life will know what to do with it, and he or she will do it right. But what about me? If my soul or my life energy gets attached to a new body, what happens to my old self? Do I just become a lifeless body? Or does my spirit rise to heaven? Wait—selling a life would be considered as suicide, and therefore the gates to heaven will be closed to me. My spirit would go straight to hell. I sigh and try to repress these thoughts somewhere deep in my brain, somewhere they can't be retrieved. I prep some clothes for tomorrow's session, spread out on the bed, turn on my side, and close my eyes, trying not think about anything. As soon as I close my eyes, however, I see Gabriel. I see his face, I hear his voice—for a moment he feels so real that I open my eyes and reach out to touch him. All I see is darkness, and only dim moonlight peeks in through the heavy curtain.

With effort, I close my eyes and hope to fall asleep. The last few days have been so confusing for me; sometimes I can't distinguish between being in a Mentior session and actual reality. I'm starting to suspect that Gabriel, Sophie, and Nicole don't exist. My unconscious has surely just created them to ease my pain and help me to enjoy my final days.

While turning onto my back, I ask myself how deep I've fallen. I know I saw Nicole in reality— at the bus stop, she was there. I saw her as surely as I know I will die. But how can I confirm it? She says she is staying at Ultima; maybe I can ask Nicole for her last name and the internet will provide me with some information. I would at least be able to confirm if she's real or not. What about Gabriel? Do I want to know if he exists in the real world?

I sit up in bed and cross my legs. I tilt my head down to calm myself.

What about Christina? They will be back soon from the camping trip. Should I tell her about my LifeTrans contract? What about Micah?

Once again, my restlessness envelopes me. I'm nauseous and dizzy. I have to wait to have a clearer picture of what to do. Nothing can be done right now. I fall back on the fluffy pillow, massage my temples, and close my eyes.

The next day, I head to Ultima, and the first person I see is Dr. Kismen. She smiles at me and glances down at my jeans. "What? No dress today?"

"Not today," I say matter-of-factly. I follow her into the elevator; she swipes her card and pushes the button for the 10th floor. I wish she would just disappear so I could take her cards and snoop around on all the floors to see if I could find Nicole.

"Is anything bothering you?" she asks while holding the elevator for me to exit.

"Yes," I say, unable to stop myself.

"What is it?"

"I'm wondering how I did on my physiological testing."

"Really well, actually," Dr. Kismen says. "But I wonder why you're asking."

"So, I've got no illnesses or anything like that?" I ask, raising an eyebrow.

"Nothing at all."

"So—I'm healthy?"

"Absolutely," she says."Strong as a bull."

All right, so my mind and brain work fine, meaning Nicole is real. I saw her at the bus stop outside Ultima. If Nicole is real, then Gabriel and Sophie are real too. But how can I trust the test results when they don't take into account my anxiety and depression?

Thoughts of Gabriel suddenly bring a smile to my face.

"Alina?" Dr. Kismen's voice sneaks in into my ears.

"Yes, yes," I say.

"I said we should get started."

"Right, of course. Sorry about that." I get myself comfortable on the bed.

"You've been daydreaming quite a lot in the past week," Dr. Kismen says.

"Have I?"

"Yes. Also, you seem happier." She glances at me out of the corner of her eye and picks up the helmet. Happier? Word "happy" used to be so foreign to me, but now I come across it more and more often.

"Are you?" she asks as she places it on my head. As the visor comes down and hides my eyes, I respond.

"No."

Today, the sky is gray and low as if pinned down by the clouds. It seems that it hangs just above the roofs of houses and could crumble down at any moment. The sunlight is having difficulties shining through.

I guess it was a good idea to wear jeans and long sleeve shirt today—my intuition never does me wrong. I need to breathe in deeper, I'm really afraid that I might have a heart attack, my knees are weak. Damn you, Gabriel! What do you do to me?!

The steps around the theater seem to be less crowded today—it doesn't look as congested. I don't see Nicole or Sophie; they're probably lost somewhere in the city. I do, however, spot Gabriel, standing in front of the theater's billboard. It's my turn to spook him now. I creep up behind him and jump onto his back.

Gabriel turns and smiles.

"Did I scare you?" I ask.

"Why would you want to scare me?" Gabriel says with a laugh.

"I just thought it would be funny, I guess." I realize how silly I probably sound. I feel Gabriel reaching out to take my hand, and without thinking, I pull my hand back.

"I should probably give up already, huh?" Gabriel asks, looking at me.

"Give up?"

"Yeah, give up on trying to hold your hand." He sighs heavily.

"What were you looking at?" I change the subject and fix my eyes on the billboard in front of me.

Gabriel rolls his eyes.

"Will you just hold my hand, Alina? There's nothing wrong with that. I don't bite." Gabriel extends his hand to me and waits.

I bite my lip and slip my hand into his. "Fine. But only for today," I clarify.

"All right," he agrees, unable to hide his smile.

"So," I say, pointing at a sign outside the theater, "what's this about?"

"It's for an orchestral concert. I think we should come back here in a few hours and catch the performance. You'll enjoy it, I'm sure." He gently squeezes my hand, and a shiver sweeps through my body.

"What, like piano music?" I ask. I've never actually heard classical music before.

Gabriel bursts our laughing. "Wow! We are definitely coming back here! You need to be introduced to Vivaldi, Beethoven, and Mozart!"

"Oh," I say, looking away and trying to remember where I know those names from, "I've heard of them."

"I have no doubt you will love them." Gabriel puts his arm around my waist. My body gets jumpy and uncomfortable, but I tell myself to relax and accept these new experiences. Gabriel looks pleased with himself that I have finally given in to this handholding. Only for today, though.

"Where did you learn about classical music?" I ask?

"My parents made me take piano lessons when I was younger. I hated it. I was a terrible pianist, but at least I learned to appreciate a beautiful melody."After a moment, Gabriel looks around and asks, "Still no sign of Nicole or Sophie?"

"Nope, still haven't seen them."

"That's too bad," he says, with a touch of relief.

"Right," I say sarcastically, "cause you really want to see them."

"Well," he smiles, "I know you do."

Suddenly I'm a bit concerned. Where are they? What if something has happened to them? A muscle twitches involuntarily at the corner of my right eye; my mouth forms a rigid grimace. I close my eyes and move my head from one side to another to banish my dark thoughts away.

"You OK?" Gabriel asks.

"Yes. I'm fine. Let's go over to the botanical garden. Maybe we'll find them there."As we walk, I pray that Nicole and Sophie are unharmed, and are simply exploring the city on their own.

"Hey Alina, is that them?" Gabriel points at two people by the ice cream stand in the distance.

"I don't think so," I answer without looking, assuming he's wrong.

"No, I think it's them!"

"Really?" I look, and sure enough, I recognize that beautiful little girl Sophie! "It's them!" I say excitedly, running toward the ice cream stand. "Sophie!"

She sees me and runs toward me. I lift her up and give her a kiss. "Where have you been?" I ask.

"Nicole and I were at Fantasy world!" she says.

"Of course you were!" I see Nicole approaching; I put Sophie down. "I'm so glad to see you guys," I say, giving Nicole a hug.

"I see Gabriel is here as well" Nicole gives him a suspicious look.

"Nice to see you too Nicole," Gabriel says with a note of sarcasm.

"Where were you?"

"Well, we were at Fantasy world yesterday morning, then we came back here, but couldn't find you."

Gabriel and I look at each other. "Oh..." I say, "we were here, but then when we didn't see you guys, we decided to walk to Fantasy world."

"Right, probably wasn't a great idea," Nicole says with a wink.

"Come on, Sophie," Gabriel says, delicately grabbing her hand. "Let's go check out the sea lions!"

"Sea lions?" she says in excitement.

"Yes! There is a resting area for them over there." Clearly, he wanted to give Nicole and me some space to talk.

"So?" Nicole asks.

"What?" say, playing dumb.

She looks at me intensely. "Have you told him that you are a Dator yet?"

"No, I haven't. I will tell him today."

"You have to tell him!" she pushes. "He likes you, and he probably plans on meeting you in the real world eventually."

"I know, I know."

"Speaking of the real world, Nicole, what's your last name?"

"I'm sorry?" she says, taken aback.

"What's your last name? I don't think we ever officially introduced ourselves."

"It's true. What's yours?" she asks me.

"Bruhler," I answer. "And you?"

"Williams."

"Nice to meet you, Nicole Williams," I say. She smiles in return. "Listen, a crazy thought came to my mind yesterday."

"Yes?"

"I just thought that—that maybe all of you guys are just an invention of my imagination. That I'm seeing things. Or that Mentior created you. I don't know..." She listens and then puts her hand on my wrist, near my bracelet.

"Alina," she says, looking me hard in the eyes."I'm as real as you are. I'm at Ultima right this moment, plugged into the Mentior. I sold my life, and I'm getting ready for the Conversion. You can believe me."

"Right, of course," I say, breathing a sigh of relief.

"Plus, at this point, you should probably be more worried about cutting loose ends," Nicole says, slowing down.

"Loose ends?" I ask.

"Yeah. Aren't you going to tell the people close to you about the Conversion?"

An image of my fragile little brother comes to mind, and then Christina! Of course. Should I tell them or not?

"It can't. Not yet," I say, looking down.

Nicole watches Sophie, who's laughing and jumping and just being a funny kid. "You know," she says without taking her eyes of Sophie, "I have changed these past few days—dramatically changed."

"How so?"

"I have a purpose in life," Nicole says as she runs her hand through her hair. I notice a small patch of gray. I stare at her with bewilderment. "I'm still afraid, of course," she continued, "but regret is living in me now."

"What do you mean?"

"I regret selling my life." She holds my arm tightly, and I sense her despair.

"What?" I'm shocked. I wish she hadn't told me that.

"Yes, I mean, after meeting Sophie, I feel like I want to live. I feel there is hope for me." Her eyes well up with tears. "I don't know, Alina, it's all so confusing."

"I wish I knew what to tell you," I say.

"I shouldn't have told you that," she says. "I'm sorry. I've just had such an amazing time with Sophie. And I'm picturing how awesome it would it be if I could visit Sophie after the Conversion. I would love to spend time with her on the outside."A tear runs down her cheek."I know what you want to say, that it's never going to happen. I know that."

I move in closer to her.

"Or adoption," she continues.

"Adoption?"

"Sure, I could have adopted. Given a child a home."

"Why didn't you?"

"Nothing made sense to me then. I was empty, depressed, lonely, scared, and miserable." She gathers her hair in her hand twists it and leaves it down. She can't keep her eyes off Sophie; I stare at Gabriel.

"What about you?" Nicole says, turning to me. "Are you still sure about your decision?"Something in my hesitation gives me away, and Nicole says, "I think I know the answer." Of course, she's right. "I mean, if I hadn't sold my life and come to Ultima, I would have never met Sophie. It's amazing to feel such happiness in my final days, I just can't believe that I'm dying when I want to live."

All I saw in my past was hopelessness and despair, but in the last few days, doubt has definitely been creeping in.

"I wish I had another chance," Nicole continues, "but I'm locked in with Ultima. You, on the other hand, still have a chance to get away."

"Not really," I say, pointing to my bracelet.

"Right," she remembers. "The bracelet."

"And if I run away," I go on, "then someone will lose the life they were promised. In my case, that's likely Sophie."

Nicole doesn't respond—she clearly can't be the judge of whose life, mine or Sophie's, is more valuable.

We catch up with Gabriel and Sophie, who are playing tag. Gabriel succumbs and lets her win. Sophie's bright laughter is such that Nicole and I can't hold back our smiles.

The four of us take a scenic train tour of the botanical gardens. Sophie sits on Nicole's lap, pointing at every tree we pass. I try to catch some of the commentary, which talks about interesting aspects of the gardens and the surrounding harbor. But it's hard for me to concentrate, with Gabriel's hand tenderly wrapped around my waist. After the ride, we head to the bridge to watch the sunset.

Gabriel looks at me. "We can't miss the show, tomorrow," he assures me. "You have to hear the music."

I suppose I should before I die.

MAGICAL MUSIC

It's another lonely night at Christina's; being by myself brings up so many thoughts. I walk to the computer and turn it on. I want to search for "Nicole Williams" online and see if I can find something about her. I type in her name, and the results are mainly social media pages. I scroll through a few but can't find my Nicole. "A waste of time," I tell myself. What am I looking for, exactly? Confirmation that she exists? She probably does—and what difference would it make, anyway? I shut off the computer and get ready for bed.

Once again, it's hard to fall asleep. It's bothering me that Gabriel is on my mind when I go to bed and when I wake up. What does he think about? Cancer? Hopeful thoughts of the future? Enough. I cover my head with the blanket.

It's hard to open my eyes. But I know it's time to wake up.

Dress or jeans for today's session? I love every single item in Christina's wardrobe. I still can't believe that most of her clothes are from the second-hand store. I guess you don't need to buy expensive clothes to look good. All of Christina's clothes fit me perfectly. As I stroke my hand along the length of her colorful dresses where they hang in her wardrobe, my heart squeezes in a painful thought of the emotional conversation that I'm going to have to have with Christina when I tell her about the Conversion. She'll probably hate me for hiding my news about the Conversion for so long. I haven't told Gabriel the truth, either. I'm also way too scared to tell Micah. How do you tell a nine-year-old that his sister will be gone? That she won't be coming back, that she won't be there when you graduate high school and all because she couldn't cope with her emotional pain. I fall to my knees and cry, still holding the long sleeve of a lavender silk dress in my hands.

"Please forgive me, Micah!" I mumble and wipe the tears from my face. "I just couldn't see the light at the end of the tunnel." "I really do regret selling my life" Nicole's words play in my head. Why did she plant a seed of doubt in me? What can I do to help Nicole? She doesn't want to die. Can I give her a second chance?

I have to scrape myself off the floor and get ready. I can't be late for my Ultima session, otherwise, I will be a wanted fugitive, and will be the subject of a man-hunt by Ultima. I hurry, jump on the bus, arrive on time.

Dr. Kismen and I repeat our daily ritual of walking from her office to the elevator. She swipes her access card. I notice three blue stripes on it.

"Purple looks good on you," Dr. Kismen says

"It's not purple, it's lavender" I respond sharply

"Alright, sorry, lavender then," Deanna says sarcastically. Must be that kind of day.

While she's getting the room set up for our upcoming session, I glance at the white desk. A stack of access cards lay on the corner. I step back to try and prevent myself from stealing the keys. But I have to help Nicole; I've no other option.

"Shall we start the session?" Dr. Kismen asks.

"Yes," I say, closing my hands tightly around the top card and putting my head down.

In this session, I manage to escape from my memory particularly fast. Getting to the wharf and the theater doesn't take me long at all. Somehow, despite the large crowd at the marina I quickly spot Gabriel, Sophie, and Nicole. The four of us are connected, and I suspect it's not only because of the Mentior. Surprisingly, Nicole and Sophie, for a change, are not at Fantasy World today.

"I'm so glad you guys are here," I say to Nicole.

"Don't get your hopes up, Alina," she says sarcastically. "Sophie and I are going to the zoo today, aren't we, sweetheart?" Nicole lovingly fixes Sophie's hair."I assumed you guys wanted some time alone," Nicole says with a grin.

"What do you mean?"

"I'm not blind, Alina. You clearly enjoy each other's company." Nicole winks at Gabriel. I roll my eyes, and Gabriel just stands there.

"Let's go, Nicole!" Sophie shouts, grabbing Nicole's hand. "I want to see the giraffes!"

Nicole smiles. "Yes, let's go and see them." She turns to Gabriel and me. "Let's catch up later, guys. I assume you'll be around here?" She winks again.

"Yes," Gabriel says.

As Nicole and Sophie stroll away, I say to Gabriel, "You're not very talkative today."

"It's not that," Gabriel says with his smooth voice. He grabs my waist, pulls me in close and kisses me on a cheek. "I just couldn't wait to be alone with you. Are you ready for some music?"

"I can't," I say, feeling his breath on my neck. Gabriel moves my long hair away and keeps kissing my neck and then slowly moves onto my shoulder. Every muscle in my body tenses up, and I forget where I am. "Stop, stop," I say, trying to free myself from his arms.

"Why?" Gabriel whispers, keeping his lips on my neck.

"Because..." I say, inhaling and gathering my strength. I push his hands away.

Gabriel is left confused.

"What's wrong?" he asks quietly.

"I told you to keep your distance!" I say.

"Yes," Gabriel says, turning away, "yes you did. I'm sorry. I crossed the line."

I'm angry with myself. What was I thinking letting him get so close to me? I have to keep reminding myself how damaged I am. "Don't try it again!"

"I get it, I said I'm sorry. It's just—" Gabriel frowns.

"What?" I ask, agitated.

"It's just—it's hard for me to keep my distance from you."

"Well, you'll have to try!"

"You're just... so beautiful." Gabriel comes up close to me again. He fixes my hair and looks at me. I stare at his lips.

"Stop," I say, hiding my eyes and stepping backward.

"Why don't you believe me!"

"What's the point?" I ask angrily.

"It makes a big difference!" Gabriel argues. "After the Conversion, I really want to continue seeing you!"

"What if the Conversion isn't successful?"

"It will be successful, and then you and I will meet!"

"Gabriel—"

"Listen, Alina, I'm not sure what has happened to you in the past—I can only imagine something tragic—but not everybody in this world is an asshole. I wouldn't lie to you, I wouldn't play with your feelings like that. I wish I could spend every minute of the day with you." He looks at me, and I swallow my tears. "I'm fading away," he continues."Very slowly and very painfully. The illness has taken away my old self. I look ugly and disgusting. I can't wait for the Conversion to happen. Soon it will be done, and then we can meet!" He begins to extend a hand to me but pulls back. "Oh right, I should keep my distance." He puts his hands in his pockets and goes on. "I'm just so happy I've met you. You have changed things for me—my outlook on life. I was skeptical about the Conversion at first and was ready to die. But now—now that I've met you, I want to live."

I can see the happiness and hope in his eyes. Do I destroy his plans for the future now or later? "Gabriel, I..." I begin, but my courage has left me once again, and I'm left speechless. When am I going to bring myself to tell him I'm not a Receiver?

"Yes?"

"Nothing." Tomorrow, I think. I'll definitely tell him the truth tomorrow. No more excuses! I look over at the theater. "We should probably get going, huh? The performance will be starting soon."

"Yes, we should," he says. "You are gonna love it!" Gabriel can't hide his excitement.

I'm silent as we enter the concert hall. The venue has seating made of white birch timber with red woolen upholstery; its high vaulted ceiling creates a mesmerizing setting. I look into the orchestra pit and see the rows and rows of musicians. I'm thrilled. I turn to Gabriel and feel an urge to lock him in my arms and thank him for all the positive feelings he has awakened in me.

He leads me toward the back of the theater, to the only two empty seats. "I think we should take those," Gabriel whispers, "unless you prefer the nosebleed seats in the balcony."

I laugh as I follow him to our seats. "Why are you whispering?"I ask loudly. "No one can hear us anyway!"

"Right," he says with a smile. "I keep forgetting."

As soon as we sit down, the music begins, and I listen attentively.

The first part of the concert reminds me of spring. The violin passages seem to grow from the basses, the sounds of light, fun, and freedom swell enthusiastically before gradually calming as to welcome autumn.

Then the second part starts quietly and serenely. Quirky and delicate melodies dominated by violins.

My heart seems to rise, fall and almost bursts in time with the music

The third part of the concert begins-sounds like late autumn with the blowing of horns reminding me of dried leaves flying off branches. I enjoy the quick rhythm. The beauty of this music stuns me. I feel shivers run through my body, every fiber of my soul is electrified. Small tear builds in the corner of my eye.

"Did you like it?" Gabriel asks after the conclusion of the performance.

"I loved it. What was that?"

"The Four Seasons, by Vivaldi."

"Pretty impressive, how well you know classical music."

"Well, I do somewhat," he says with a modest chuckle. "This time, though, I just read the program." He shows me the white pamphlet.

"Oh, right," I say, embarrassed. "Of course."

"I'm really glad you enjoyed it," he says warmly. He leans back in his seat and gets ready for the next piece.

With the music and beautiful setting, I can't help but get lost in the moment. I put my hand on his thigh, and he immediately covers my hand with his. I turn to face him, lean into his shocked face to bring it closer to mine and kiss him. Gabriel's eyes open wide with surprise.

"I've never kissed anyone before," I tell him as I pull back a little, but not too much, hinting that the boundaries have softened.

"You've never kissed anyone before?" he asks. I imagine he wasn't expecting to meet an 18-year-old who had never been kissed. He will be the first and the last one I kiss.

"You don't believe me?" I ask.

"Don't worry," he says. "I will go slowly. There's a first time for everything."With those words, Gabriel leans forward. Briefly, he touches my parted lips with his own, each time leaning back after each kiss to look into my eyes. The touch of his lips is magical; I close my eyes and give in into my emotions. The music and passions are creating fireworks inside me. My lips flutter against my will automatically responding to his touch.

He masterfully manipulates my lips; my mouth is opening succumbing to the rhythm. His soft tongue is tender and responsive. A warm wave of emotion envelopes my face. I want to keep kissing him. He caresses my waist, and his hand moves slightly up, closer to my breasts. My body shudders, but I can't resist. I have no will to stop him, to interrupt his touch.

His searching hands become firmer and more assertive, and in a split second I lose my concentration, and the memories of that disgusting beast from my past come flooding back into my brain. My body remembers the feeling of the cold floor of the bedroom at Gloria's and the incredible weight of his abominably smelly body.

I dig clenched fists into Gabriel's chest, intending for him to stop, but that only makes him kiss me harder. His hands are no longer careful, they travel all over my body. In a panic, I hit his chest with my closed fist, and finally, slip out of his embrace."STOP!" I yell. "You have to STOP!" I wipe my mouth from all the moisture, and I can feel the tears coming down my face. Mortified, I jump up from my seat and run out from the concert hall.

Gabriel follows after me and quickly overtakes me, catching me from behind, locking my waist in his arms.

"Let go of me!" I scream at the top of my lungs, scratching his hands.

"All right! All right!" he says, taking a step back.

I catch my breath, try to calm down. I need to explain myself to him.

"Alina," he says, looking up at me. "I want to understand you. I certainly didn't mean to hurt you."

"Gabriel..." I gasp for air one more time "It's not you, really." I feel foolish using the phrase, but it's true.

"What does that mean?" he asks desperately.

How do I want to avoid this conversation? Why is he forcing me to open up?

I make a fist, digging my nails into my palm. I need to walk to take the edge off. I see the exit door that leads outside to a balcony that faces the water. I need to breathe in a lungful of the salty, fresh ocean air and to clear my head before I can confess my past.

As I walk, I hear Gabriel's footsteps behind me. It's nice of him to keep silent right now and not overwhelm me with millions of questions.

Once on the balcony, I hold on to the metal railing tightly and stare out at the ferries passing by. Life just goes on, never stopping, no matter what tragedy or pain you are going through. Without even looking, I know that Gabriel is behind me, waiting.

"Look, Gabriel..." I start, unable to find the right words.

"Did someone hurt you?"

"Something like that."

"I see. I'm not going to hurt you, I promise. People get their hearts broken all the time, but they pick themselves up and keep going."

"Heartbroken," I grunt, "Trust me, Gabriel, I wish it was something so simple, like a heartbreak."

"What?" he asks. "I really do want to understand what's bothering."

"I'm no virgin," I blurt out, realizing that I should have given a bit of back-story first instead of just blurting it out.

"But—but you said you've never kissed before."

"I haven't."

"But—"

"—My virginity was taken against my will," I hope he understands what I mean.

"That's terrible," he says softly, his face fixed into a unblinking stare. "I'm so sorry, Alina."

"It happened ages ago," I say, holding back my tears.

"Did he go to jail?" Gabriel is asking, hoping for some sense of justice.

"Of course not," I say as I shut my eyes, concentrating on not letting my emotional agony show. "I didn't go to the police."

"Why not!" he says, shocked.

Clearly, he sees the world quite differently than I do."Because I just couldn't...", I bite my tongue and stop myself from telling him the whole sad story.

"Alina," Gabriel says resolutely, "after the Conversion, we will go to the police together and report this bastard!"

"Ha," I say sarcastically "A little too late, unfortunately; it happened so long ago, nothing can be done now."

"It doesn't matter how long ago it happened; we can still do something about it. You can't just let someone get away with living a normal life after they've done such a horrible thing. After The Conversion, we are going to the police, and you'll tell them everything. My parents know the best lawyers in the city. Even if we can't lock him up, we can still make him face his crimes and shame him publically." Gabriel's eyes are full of hope. He genuinely believes he can fix my situation. That he can fix me.

"It's alright Gabriel," I say. "Please just let it be."

"No, I will not!" Gabriel's voice rises to the shout.

"I'm telling you, it's not going to help me."

"Yes, it will. You'll see, we'll bring that asshole to justice!"

"Gabriel, I'm telling you no!" I yell, trying to get him to drop it. "You don't know the whole story!"

"Then tell me!" Gabriel fires back.

I feel light-headed. My eyes are welling up with tears, and finally, I burst out, shouting, "My mother put me under him!" As soon as the words come out, I begin to wail. I can't stop, and I nearly collapse, but somehow Gabriel catches me and holding me tight. His wide shoulders are like a wall that protects me from all the troubles, tragedies, and evils of the world.

I'm crying, but this time it feels different. I'm lighter somehow as if I've been relieved of the pain of guilt and shame that had accompanied me throughout my life. It had painted my life in dark tones, made me hear and see the worst in people. It turned all the beauty of life into a torturous game. Finally, I feel as if I am letting it all go. I have rid myself of the shackles that held me down for so long.

"Oh, Alina" Gabriel whispers.

He strokes the back of my head tenderly. Our hearts beats in unison. I smile through my tears. Today is the happiest day of my life. I feel free. The strains of the violins travel through the concrete walls of the theater, and I close my eyes, moving my feet to the melody. Gabriel catches onto the rhythm and grasps me in is arms.

I look up at him and say, "This is my first dance."He wipes a tear from my cheek.

"Mine too," he says, holding me tighter.

This is it, I'm in heaven. I want to stay in the Mentior forever. But my time here is so fragile, so limited. How do I tell him I'll be leaving this world forever very soon? We dance, then listen to the music then dance again. We both don't realize how quickly time flew.

I stop our slow dance, grab Gabriel's hand, and say "We should get going. Nicole and Sophie should be back from the zoo by now and are probably waiting for us."

"No more music?" Gabriel asks, pulling me back in into his arms to continue our dance.

"Maybe tomorrow," I say. I've had enough of intense emotions for one day.

We walk away holding hands. I have shared my suffering with another human being. I no longer stand alone.

I hope Nicole will stop interrogating me. I don't want to tell Gabriel about selling my life. I want his and my happiness to linger for longer. I don't want to waste what little time we will have together justifying my decisions.

"I know you're not that excited to see Nicole and Sophie," I say.

"Sure I am—I mean, not as excited as you are. I just—you know—want to spend time with you. I mean, they are great too, I just don't think Nicole likes me."

"Why would you think that?" It's quite the opposite, of course. Nicole is trying to protect Gabriel—she wants me to tell him the truth.

"Every time we are with her, she always takes you aside for some 'girl talk,' so I just assume she's trying to warn you about boys like me."

"No, no, it's not like that at all," I say defensively.

"No?" he asks."Then what do you girls talk about?"

My heart jumps. "Oh—um, we talk about her life."

"I see. I still can't believe she sold her life."

"Yes," I agree. "It is sad. But let's not talk about it, OK? She's become a good friend, and I really don't want to think about her not being around."

"Right. Of course."

"Thank you." I give him a dry smile.

"So what do you want to do now?" he asks.

"Not sure yet," I say, looking down at the pathway. "We'll see what Nicole wants to do."

Clouds still dominate the afternoon sky, leaving between only transitory patches of blue. Though they are mostly white, there is a hint of gray around their edges—it might rain. I look over at the bridge and take it in. Today it looks marvelous. It no longer represents a place of suicide for me—only the glory of modern architecture.

Gabriel notices I'm staring. "You really love that bridge, don't you?"

"Yes," I say. "It's so powerful."

I turn toward Gabriel and pull him into me for a kiss. I'm free—my fear is gone. His lips are intense, they make me desire even more. I can't deny our passion.

We are abruptly interrupted by a voice calling from behind us."Alina!"

It's Nicole. Chills run through my body as if I have been caught committing a crime. I quickly step back from Gabriel and turn around.

"Oh, hey guys!" I say, trying to sound as if I hadn't just been kissing Gabriel.

"Hello, there," Nicole answers with a wry smile.

I laugh nervously.

Gabriel pipes up. "Hi Nicole."

"Hello Gabriel."

Sophie, of course, has no idea what's happening. She's just happy to be around us again. I lift her up and hold her in my arms. She's just such a ray of sunshine. She reminds me of Micah, my sweet Micah.

"Hey Alina!" Sophie says. "How are you?"

"I'm good," I say. "Really good." I look at Nicole and Gabriel, they both seem uncomfortable.

"How was the Zoo?" I ask Nicole.

"Good" Nicole replies somewhat curtly.

"It was awesome!" Sophie says excitedly. "I loved it so much! There were so many different kinds of animals! Have you ever seen an elephant?"

"No, I haven't," I answer. It occurs to me that Micah and I should take a trip to the zoo before I die.

"I have, though!" Gabriel says, sneaking up and grabbing Sophie's hand. They walk ahead, and I know this will be the time Nicole starts asking questions again.

"Please Nicole, just don't say anything," I beg her. "Don't ruin this moment."

"I take it you haven't told him yet?" Nicole says.

"Tomorrow," I say half-heartedly. "I will tell him tomorrow. I promise."

"I doubt that," Nicole mutters under her breath.

"I'm sorry?"

"Nothing." she says.

"So how are things with Sophie?"

At the mention of Sophie's name Nicole's mood immediately softens. "It was a great morning, Alina. All the happiness and hope she emanates is overwhelming me! Sophie is my little diamond! I can't believe the Conversion will be happening so soon!" Her eyes fill with tears.

I have no comforting words for her; I'm in the same boat. "You don't want to go through the Conversion?" I ask.

She bursts into tears. "I've made such a big mistake, deciding to give up on my life. Why did I think suicide was the way?"

"You are not committing suicide, though," I say.

"Whatever it is I'm doing—committing suicide or selling my life—the point is, my funeral date is set, I don't have a future." She continues to weep. "You know, if I could only get a second chance, I would find Sophie and maybe visit her once in a while if her parents would let me." She's consumed by her grief.

There is no proper way to comfort her with words, so I take a step toward her, wrap my arms around her, and hold her.

"Oh, Alina!" Nicole says. I can feel her warm tears on the back of my neck. "I know," I whisper. "I know how much it hurts."

Nicole wants out. Is there any way to make it happen? She has no bracelet, so she's not tracked. That makes things much easier, but I have no idea where she is in the Ultima Center.

I look at her puffy red eyes, and I pull her hair back from her face."Nicole, what floor are you on?"

"What do you mean?"

"At Ultima. What floor are you staying on?"

"I can't remember—I mean, I didn't really pay any attention. The nurse just swiped the card, and the elevator took us up. It's not like she announced the floor and there are no numbered buttons in the elevator, so I couldn't tell what floor we ended up at. Why do you ask?"

"I guess I'm just curious," I say coyly.

"Really?" Nicole squints her eyes. "You'd better not do anything stupid."

"Like what?"

"Alina, it's too late to help me, so please just enjoy your last days. Spend time with people that matter." Nicole breaths in heavily.

"You have people you love on the outside, right? Family? Friends? If you don't, then you can hang out with my family," she says with a slight chuckle.

"I have Micah," I say, remembering his sweet face.

"Who's Micah?"

"My little brother, he's my life—" I take a pause. "I mean, he was my life. I still haven't told him about the Conversion. I really have no idea how to tell a nine-year-old that his sister has chosen to end her life."

"It's tough. I know my parents will be heartbroken, but I can't even imagine what kind of reaction a nine-year-old will have."

" But I'm doing it for him," I say, defensively.

"Really?" Nicole pushes back. "Or are you doing it because you can't cope with your life?"

"I want him to have the money. He can have a great future; he just first needs to get away from our mother."

"A case of an evil mother, huh?"

"You have no idea," I respond.

"Gabriel seems like a nice guy," Nicole says, changing the subject and looking for Gabriel and Sophie in the crowd.

"Yes, I think he's honest."

"You like him?"

"I really do."

"Well, just remember what you need to tell him," she says sternly.

"Ugh, I remember. How could I forget with you reminding me every day?"

"It's important," Nicole reiterates. "Anyway, what did you guys do today?"

"We listened to Vivaldi," I say, smiling brightly.

"Wow," Nicole says, "that's romantic."

"Yes, it was."

"What are you guys going to do tomorrow?"

"Maybe another concert. What about you?"

"Sophie and I will probably go to see a kids' play." Nicole gazes over at Sophie, who is running straight toward her. Nicole catches her easily, and Sophie locks her little legs around Nicole's body and gives her a big smooch.

Gabriel approaches me. "What were you guys talking about?" he asks."Oh, wait a second," he remembers, "I know you—you wouldn't tell me anyway, so never mind."

"Hey, hey," I say, gently, taking him by the arm. "Don't say that."

"I didn't mean to come across as rude; it's just that you and Nicole are so secretive when you're together."

"There is nothing to worry about."

"You sure?"

"Yes," I say, doubling down on my lie. "There's nothing you need to worry about."

"All right," he says with a sigh. "I believe you." He takes my hand, and we walk slowly behind Nicole and Sophie. Nicole holds Sophie tight. She won't let her go, not even for a second.

"More music tomorrow?" Gabriel asks.

"Absolutely," I say.

The sunset is almost here, and today's session is coming to an end. There were so many emotions that came out today. Some I still struggle to comprehend—so many discoveries that will stay with me until the end. I finally shared the biggest trauma of my life with another person, and he didn't run away—he's still here for me. He listened, he understood, he wants to help. There's no way I can tell him I'm a Dator now. He will find out on the day of the Conversion, but I can't do it sooner. I can't destroy his world, I don't want the truth to ruin my small share of happiness even though I know its only an illusion. We are together now, and this is just how it's supposed to be. Sophie needs a life, and I will give it to her—besides, there is no chance of me escaping. The bracelet is always tracking me. It's grown into my skin, we are inseparable, and no one can change that.

Gabriel leads me to a steel fence at the edge of the harbor behind the theater. I touch its cold surface with the very tips of my fingers.

"Alina, these past few days have been amazing. I can't describe how much you mean to me already."

I wordlessly gaze into his eyes.

"You might think these are just empty words," he says as he pulls me in close and kisses my forehead, "but they're not. You will feel the same eventually, I promise. Gabriel Holding always keeps his promises."

As soon as I hear his full name, I feel a sharp pain in my heart, and I feel the blood rush from my face.

"I'm sorry?" I say, my voice trembling.

"What did I say?" Gabriel asks.

I put my hand on his chest to find my balance—maybe I heard him wrong. There has to be a mistake.

"Alina, are you alright?" Gabriel covers my hand with his.

"What did you say your last name was again?"

"Holding. Why? Is something wrong?" he looks into my eyes.

In a flash, all I see is a mist, and Dr. Kismen's words replay in my head: "Yes, Mrs. Holding, that's right. I just met her, and it's a perfect match. Can you come by the Novus Center tomorrow with your son?"

I come to and see Gabriel. "Your—your last name is Holding?"

"Yeah," Gabriel says, confused. "It's pretty common, I guess. But why?"

Holding? Holding? Gabriel Holding! How could I have forgotten that conversation that I'd overheard at Dr. Kismen's office? I'm not giving my life to Sophie after all! I'm giving it to Gabriel.

The session ends, but not before I manage to blurt out to Gabriel, "Tomorrow! Same place!"

DECISION

I'm Gabriel's match, I can't believe I didn't realize that sooner! His parents are rich; they can afford to buy a young life. Sophie, on the other hand, mentioned how they have to move to her grandparent's place because her parents have nothing now.

"You're all done for today," Dr. Kismen says, looking at her watch, hinting that it's time for me to get up.

"Right," I say. I sit up and rub my eyes. My mind and heart are racing. This is not how everything was supposed to go. I was meant to suffer through the preparation process, overwhelmed by such bitter memories that I would beg for the Conversion to take place. Instead, I'm dreading it. I only have two weeks left with Gabriel, Christina, Nicole, Sophie, and, of course, Micah. If Gabriel finds out that I'm his life-giver, it might break his heart—and he's got the full 50 years left to live.

"Alina?" Dr. Kismen says impatiently. I didn't realize I was still sitting on the bed—everything just feels like a dream.

"Yes, of course."

As we walk down the hall toward the reception area, I ask, "Dr. Kismen?"

"Yes?" She turns her head.

"Um... Is it... possible?" I take a breath.

She raises an eyebrow and waits for me to finish my sentence.

"Well...I have no money left." I feel nervous and ashamed, but I just let it out: "Can I borrow some cash?" I don't even know why I'm asking. I just want to linger in Ultima a little bit longer.

"Absolutely," she answers, her expression softening. Come, follow me to the office."

I want to know for sure if Gabriel is my Receiver and her office might offer up some clues.

She riffles her stack of the access cards. If I could only get my hands on them, what doors could they open for me? She swipes one of the cards and walks into her office. I'd already made a mental note earlier about which card she used for the elevator: it's white with three stripes.

"Please sit down," Dr. Kismen says, placing her stack of access cards precariously close to the edge of her desk.

A tingling feeling runs through me; I'm hankering for those cards. I have to find Nicole. She can still find happiness in the outside world-with my help. Please, Dr. Kismen, leave the room—I really need to have those keys.

She reaches for her black purse, which is tucked in underneath the desk. My heart is racing, a drop of sweat runs down the side of my head. I keep begging in my head for Deanna to leave the room. She reaches deep into her bag for her wallet and my time is almost up. She pulls out a crisp $100 bill and hands it to me, as if in slow motion. I reach for it when suddenly her cell phone rings. "Oh, sorry, I need to take this," she says while looking at the phone number showing on the screen.

I feign a polite but relieved smile.

"I'll be right back." She gets up from her chair and walks into the hall with the phone, shutting the office door slightly behind her. I can hear her footstep moving away from the office.

I hold my breath and snatch the key-cards off the table. I peek out of the office and see Dr. Kismen down the hall, facing the door to the reception area. I hear the sound of my heart throbbing against my chest—I have to be quick and quiet. I tiptoe out of the office. Her voice travels down the hall, echoing between the walls. I turn the corner quickly and stand by the elevator, finally letting out my breath. I desperately gasp for air, I'm afraid I might lose consciousness.

The elevator arrives, and I pray that it's empty. The doors open, and shivers run down my spine. It's empty! With a single step, I'm inside, and the door closes behind me. Now what? What floor do I push? I scan the buttons: 15 floors. 1 in 15 chance seems high; it's actually more like 1 in 14 since I already know what's on the 10th floor. I call on my intuition and stab the button for what I hope is level 12—as soon as the elevator moves, I know it wasn't right. I acted on an impulse.

When the elevator doors open, a wave of cold sweat covers my head. I step out quietly. The floor is eerily quiet—not a single soul around. Ultima just has some many weird creepy settings.

There is a long dark hallway with a bunch of doors along both walls. I look at the first one: "Preparation Room 12." I swipe every card and finally, the green light on the door sensor lights up. The door is open. I hold my breath and pull the door closed behind me. No one is here, Nicole is not here. I run back and call the elevator. I wait for it impatiently.

As soon as I hear the noise of the arriving elevator, I release my grip on the keys slightly. No one is inside again, so I quickly jump in, panting; the lack of oxygen is making it hard to think.

Where to next? What button should I push? What path shall I take? Who can guide me? Please, Nicole, tell me where you are. I swipe the card and randomly push the button that should take me to level 8.

The elevator moves. Every breath that I take comes with great effort. I can't see anything in front of me but a spinning black tunnel. I tilt my head in the hope that it will stop. My knees feel like cotton balls, and they suddenly bend, sending me to the floor of the elevator. With all the strength I have left, I keep my eyes open, I can't close them now—I can't drift off.

I keep moving my head from one side to the other. I squeeze my head with my hands in an attempt to regain full consciousness. Everything is misty. The elevator doesn't seem to be moving anymore. My eyelids are heavy; I have no fight left in me. My eyelids finally fall shut, the world turns black as I fall into unconsciousness.

A dull, sharp pain at the back of my head disturbs my peace, and I begrudgingly open my right eye. A bright light stings my pupil. I'm afraid to see something I don't want to see. I hear a noise that sounds as if someone put a surgical knife down on a glass surface. My imagination is painting a disturbing picture. I wish I was in the Mentior right now, next to Gabriel; he would protect me, he would take away my fear. It feels like today is the end of me. I hear light footsteps near the surface I'm lying on. Tears are forming in my eyes, but if I let go of even one tear, whoever is standing by my side right now will know I'm conscious.

After few minutes of lying there, trying to look frozen, I start to sense a familiar smell. I inhale it every day: it's Dr. Kismen's hand lotion.

I can't keep playing dead forever, I will need to face the consequences eventually.

I make an attempt to lift both of my eyelids. The light still hurts my eyes, but I manage to keep them open.

"Good, you're awake," Dr. Kismen says calmly.

I try to speak, but words don't come out. My body is still in a state of the shock. I look around, trying to determine exactly where I am. It looks like the glass room where we have our daily sessions. I see medical equipment, and it terrifies me. I want to cry.

My poor brother will never know what happened to his sister. I didn't even get to say goodbye to him or Christina. How foolish was it of me to think I could rescue Nicole.

"Lilian, you can go now," Dr. Kismen says to a small figure dressed in a black nurse's uniform. "Her blood pressure and heart rate are stabilized now."

"Let me know if you need anything else, Dr. Kismen," the figure replies.

"Certainly, thank you for all your help," Dr. Kismen says.

My eyes finally adjust to the environment. Dr. Kismen turns off the bright light above my head.

"So?" Dr. Kismen says while sitting in the chair beside the bed. I can't help but think of the noise that scalpel made earlier. I squeeze my stomach to make sure it's not cut open. I can feel my limbs—thank God I still have them. I look down at my wrists, they are secured to the bed by leather straps.

"Where is scalpel?" I ask. I have nothing to lose at this point, so I might as well find out what to expect.

"I'm sorry?" Dr. Kismen says, leaning forward.

"I've heard it," I explain. "I've heard the noise."

"Alina, there are no scalpels around here," Dr. Kismen says reassuringly.

I abruptly lift up my body and look around, trying to find any sharp objects. I don't see any.

"See? I wasn't lying to you," she says.

"So you will not be cutting me open?" I ask, skeptically. "Or torturing me?"

"Not to my knowledge," Dr. Kismen replies, stifling a laugh. "I do need you to tell me why you stole my keys, though. What exactly were you looking for?"

I turn away. What do I tell her?

"Nothing."

"Right. Somehow, I don't believe that." Dr. Kismen keeps her eyes fixed on me. "I'm waiting..."

"I was just curious," I let out finally.

"What about?"

"About Ultima."

"Ultima? Alina, I need more information. There has to be a reason why you decided to take the access cards off my desk and hunt around the building." Her eyes have lost some of their softness—they are now more concentrated and determined to get all the facts straight.

"I'm telling you Dr. Kismen, I just wanted to look around."

"Well, that was a very irrational decision."

"I'm a teenager," I protest. "I'm supposed to be irrational. Please Dr. Kismen, can I go now? I promise it will never happen again. I will not snoop around, and I will obey your every request." Something tells me, however, that Dr. Kismen is not buying it.

"It's not that simple," Deanna says after a deep breath. "I can't just let you go."

"Why not?" I ask nervously. "It's not like I broke any rules."

"Not directly, no."

"Exactly, I wasn't trying to kill myself, or skip a session, or run away."

Dr. Kismen is still not convinced. "You will be staying at Ultima full time now, Alina," she says.

I can't believe what I'm hearing.

"What?" My voice trembles, my mouth is ready to let out a howl.

"There is nothing I can do," she says firmly. "It's procedure. You put in jeopardy this whole operation, so now you have to face the consequences."

"What operation?" I ask, angrily.

"I'm talking about The Conversion. You are refusing to tell me exactly what you were looking for, so that's that. The best thing for you will be to stay at Ultima full-time." She gets off the chair, which squeaks as the wheels roll on the floor. "I will get one of the nurses to help transfer you to a different area, where you will be staying until The Conversion."

I have no tears left to cry. I can't believe I will be dying with so many regrets. Micah, I'm so sorry I couldn't say goodbye. He will learn about my death from the Doctors here. It will be traumatizing for him. I can picture him crying. Oh God! What will happen with the trust fund? Will he still get it?

"Dr. Kismen!" I say, louder than I'd meant.

"Yes?" She lets go off the door handle and turns to me.

"Will my trustee still get the funds?" I ask, my voice is shaky.

Deanna doesn't reply, turns back to the door, and starts to exit.

In a panic, I yell, "Please stop! I will tell you everything." I gather my strength. Shivers run down my spine, but I have no choice. I need to come clean.

Dr. Kismen turns, locks the door and marches back toward my bed, her footsteps heavier than I can ever remember.

She grabs the chair and wheels it in the direction of the bed. She sits down hard, and after a breath, she says, "I'm listening."

I close my eyes in order to stop my tears from falling. It's time.

"First, can you please tell me which floor you'll be transferring me to?" Even though it won't make a difference to me, I still want to know.

"The 7th floor," she says.

One more time I say a mental goodbye to Nicole, Sophie, and Gabriel. I would give a lot to see them again, but I have to put Micah first. I need to be able to say goodbye to him.

She clears her throat impatiently. "Alina, please continue."

"I don't know where to start," I mumble.

"From the beginning, please."

"I think it was a fifth or sixth session when things started to go wrong," I say, breathing heavily.

"Go on," Dr. Kismen demands.

I look at the ceiling as if the words that I need to say are written on it, and I just need to read them aloud. "I don't know how to explain it," I tell her.

"You will need to try if you want me to help you."

"OK," I say, gathering myself. "So, Mentior picked a very sad memory on one of these sessions. If I may, I'd rather not get too much into details of the memory."

"Fine. So what happened?" she asks.

"Simply put, I... escaped the memory."

"Pardon?" Her mouth hangs open.

"Yes," I say. "I cheated my memory." I try to sit up in the bed, but my wrists are still strapped to the bed. Dr. Kismen is still turning over what I've said and doesn't register my struggling. "I'd love to sit up, if I could," I say.

"Oh, right. Sorry about that." Deanna reaches out to release me.

"Can you please go back to the part where you said you cheated your memory? I definitely need to know more."

"Look, I have no idea how it happened. I just chose not to relive the pain and gloominess of that memory, so I just... ran away from it."

Again, Dr. Kismen just stares back in confusion.

I continue, "I actually thought you would be able to explain it to me, but I take it you don't really know what happens when you're plugged into the Mentior?"

"Well, theoretically I do." She looks to the side as if trying to remember everything she'd learned about Mentior. "To be perfectly honest I have no idea how you managed to escape your memory, in theory, it's not supposed to happen. In any case can you please explain why you stole my keys and sneaked around Ultima? "Let me finish," I say. "I just need a few seconds more."

"Sorry, please take your time."

"Well, on that day when I first experienced that I could be in control of everything I do. Even in Mentior: I didn't want to relive sad, awful memories, so I chose to leave them behind. Kind of like in life: we don't need to linger in the past, we have to move past it." I catch Dr. Kismen's eyes."Simply put, I just started to run—randomly. I had no idea where I was running to. I eventually ended up at a police station." As soon as the words come out, I realize that right now I'm deciding Nicole's destiny too, and if the glitch is fixed, she will never see Sophie again. It will break her heart. I feel my eyes burning with sadness.

"What happened at the police station?" she asks, trying to keep me on track.

"I met her," I say.

"Who?"

It takes a minute for me to get going again with my confession.

"Nicole."

"Nicole who?"

"Nicole Williams." I take a breath and continue. "She's one of the—"

"—Dators..." Deanna interrupts. "So let me get this straight: during one of your sessions, instead of reliving your memories, you decided to run from it. And on your journey, you somehow ended up at the same place as Nicole Williams?"I nod as Dr. Kismen eyes me suspiciously. "What happened next?"

"Well..." I crack my fingers, the sound echoing distinctly in and around the room's concrete walls.

Deanna moves her chair closer to the bed. "Alina, I know you are not telling me the full story. I need to know everything."

"There is nothing else to tell," I say. "Each session after that, Nicole and I would run away from our memories, and meet somewhere in the city." I turn my head and stare at the Mentior. "I got to know Nicole and her story very well. Then one day she just mentioned to me that she doesn't want to go through The Conversion. And me, thinking I can save the world, decided impulsively to rescue her from her jail cell at Ultima."

"We don't have jail cells at Ultima," Dr. Kismen says, clearly offended. "We take care of our patients here. That being said, how's it even possible that she has changed her mind? Something else must have had happened. So please explain."

"I don't know why she changed her mind," I say indignantly.

"There has to be something that triggered it," she counters firmly.

"There was nothing," I insist.

"All right then, it's clear to me that you don't want to cooperate, so there is nothing I can do for you, Alina. You will be staying at Ultima full-time starting today."

"But I've told you everything!" I say, my voice desperate, trying to stop Dr. Kismen from walking out on me. Tears fall from my eyes.

"You didn't tell me everything—we both know that. Obviously, there is some sort of a bug or a glitch in Mentior. Participants are not supposed to communicate with each other while plugged in. I want to know the rest of the story." Her persistence overwhelms me and my hands tremble.

"Anyway, I will call up Lilian, and she'll help me to transfer you to the 7th floor," she threatens nonchalantly.

"Please," I beg, "I want to say goodbye to my brother, and he needs that money to live." I sob uncontrollably and suddenly realize that I should have thought about it before deciding to break the rules.

Dr. Kismen slowly and mercifully makes her way back to the bed, and I can sense her compassion. "Alina, this is by no means a personal attack on you. The Conversion is a unique technology, but like every new technology, it has its faults. I need to know what defects Mentior has." Deanna sits in the chair, waiting for my revelation.

Even though I'm still debating how to respond, I know I don't really have a choice but to tell her everything. I want to be genuine; I want to open up about my feelings for once in my life. It felt so good to talk about my pain with Gabriel. Possibly talking to Deanna will make death feel less tragic. I feel helpless.

"Well...After I had run into Nicole at the police station, she told me about her life—about her pain. Then we agreed to escape our memories again and meet at Fantasy World the next day." My voice is gaining confidence. "That's when things really got confusing."

"Good. Then what happened?"

"While we were there, we saw a little girl, and she was talking to us. We figured she was one of the Receivers since she was too young to be a Dator."

"What was the girl's name?" Deanna cuts in.

"Sophie, though I'm not sure of her last name. Neither Nicole nor I cared to find out."

I hear my breathing and feel my heart beat—it distracts me for a moment from my story.

"Continue," she says.

"After we met Sophie, we wanted to make sure she wasn't a Dator because that would just be outrageous, to use kids for The Conversion." I cough.

"You're a kid," Dr. Kismen says.

"Nicole said the same thing," I reply. "Anyway, Sophie gave us a description of where she is staying, and Nicole and I concluded that it was a Novus center. The three of us ended up there, and for some reason, I decided it would be a fantastic idea for me to wander around. I ended up and the University of Technology campus." I close my eyes and remember that session—the first time I saw Gabriel. It makes me emotional just thinking of him. I can't deny my desire for him. I don't even know if I will see him again if I will touch his soft lips if I will melt in his embrace.

I wipe a tear from my eye. Dr. Kismen, being as tactful as she can, reaches for the box of tissues, tucked next to the Mentior.

"Please," she says, handing me the box. "So what happened on campus?"

"I met Gabriel," I say. "Holding—Gabriel Holding."

"You've met Gabriel Holding..." Dr. Kismen says, half to me, half to herself.

"Yes."

"This is all very interesting," Dr. Kismen says.

Desperate for answers, I grab Dr. Kismen's arm with my sweaty palm and plead, "Can you at least tell me if my encounters are real? Do Sophie, Nicole, and Gabriel actually exist? Or is it just my imagination.

She removes her forearm from my grip, stands up, and heads to the computer next to Mentior. The bright light from the computer screen comes on, illuminating her face. Without looking up from the monitor, she says, "Everything I am about to tell you is off the record."

"Absolutely," I agree. "Frankly, I'd hoped this whole story would be off the record."

"All three of them are real people, just as you are," Deanna says.

I look at her expressionless face. "They are?"

"Yes, they are," She says, her eyes still locked on the computer screen. "You don't believe me?"

"I don't know what to believe anymore," I admit. Who knows if she's lying to me, how can I trust her? I wish I could see Gabriel and Sophie in reality, and then I would know for sure they exist.

"This is not how I pictured the preparation process."

"I can imagine," Dr. Kismen says.

"After that first session, I thought that all the future held for me was a miserable existence at home and here at Ultima. But I was wrong..."

I tear a corner of a tissue and throw it to the floor.

"Instead of suffering and begging God to take me finally, I experienced one of the happiest days of my life. I met this incredible woman named Christina—she's been a real gem, she takes care of my little brother and me. Regarding Mentior, it didn't bring me down—in fact, quite the complete opposite. I get to see Nicole, Sophie, and, most importantly, Gabriel. He—," I sob. "I like him very much." I start to cry. "I don't want to die anymore!" I say through my tears, finally honest with myself. "This is so stupid. I always wanted to die, as far back as I could remember. I would picture the day. I would have an image of myself hanged by a scarf on the tree, or lying in a bath full of blood. Seriously—anxiety and emptiness wouldn't leave me alone. They just followed me around everywhere." I crumple up the tissue and wipe away tears. "And now you are telling me that all of these people—Gabriel, Nicole, and Sophie—are real? At first, I was sure I was giving my life to Sophie, but after today's session, I think Gabriel is probably the Receiver of my life."

Dr. Kismen listens attentively, not interrupting. She lets me vent, and be sad. I appreciate the gesture. Throughout my 18 years, I've kept everything inside, which doesn't help. Now, all this emotional garbage comes flowing out of me at once.

I continue, in a desperate whimper: "I don't want to die, but I want Gabriel to live! It's not fair!" I feel helpless. A quick glance down at the black bracelet on my wrist brings me back to my senses. Right—how could I have forgotten about the fact that I have nothing in the world, that the most precious thing that I've ever had was my life, and I so carelessly sold it."Anyway," I go on, "I don't even know why I am talking about this. Ultima has my life now. So it doesn't really matter what I want."

Dr. Kismen shoots me a mysterious smile. "Well, you never know what might happen—life is full of surprises." She looks like a villain.

I sit up on the bed and hang one of my legs down, trying to let her know that I'm ready to go. If I can just sneak outside, maybe she'll forget the rule violation.

"May I go now?" I ask hesitantly. She can't give me any information, and I don't want to waste my time since I have so little now.

"In a minute," she says.

I get excited. My heart is jumping. She's letting me go—hallelujah! The question remains though: will I be able to see Gabriel tomorrow? I engage her again: "When will the glitch be fixed, do you think? I mean, you know it exists. I presume despite the glitch everything is going OK with the preparation process and The Conversion will be successful?"

"Well, on paper the process is looking good. Your memories are getting collected and still scheduled to be destroyed on conversion day." She moves her eyes away from the computer screen.

"What about the process for the Receivers?" I ask. "How's that going?"

"That's going well, too. The positive environment for the new life energy is getting created, and the Receivers are getting emotionally prepared."

"That's good," I say, thinking of Sophie and Gabriel.

"I thought you said you wanted to live now," Dr. Kismen says, looking over at me. "Wouldn't it be in your best interest if things didn't go the way they were planned?"

"Is it possible they wouldn't?"

"I don't know," she answers, shrugging her shoulders. For the first time, I see a lack of confidence.

"Really?"

"It's possible," she admits. "Look, Mentior is a young technology. And, apparently, we already have glitches. In theory, you're not supposed to be able to cheat your memories. But in practice, the human brain, emotions, and subconscious are still not fully understood. Also, Dators shouldn't be meeting up with Receivers and roaming around in virtual reality—they are prohibited from having any contact with each other."

"Why is that?"

"You really need me to explain to you?"

"Sure."

"Just because I want to eat steak doesn't mean I want to meet a cow. Look at yourself now, Alina. You doubt your decision after meeting Gabriel. Nicole doubts hers after meeting Sophie. The Conversion is a complicated process as it is, and crossing paths with Receivers only makes it more complicated and confusing. What if your Receiver was a total moron that doesn't deserve to live? You wouldn't want to give them your life. We can't choose Receivers—they are simply chosen based on the money they've paid." Dr. Kismen pauses, perhaps thinking she was out of line. "Anyway, all that being said, this particular glitch will be fixed sooner or later."

"Can it be later?" I ask, coyly.

"Pardon?"

"Please?"

Dr. Kismen gives me a gentle look. "Now not only you want me to let you go and keep your trust fund alive, but you also want me not to have Mentior fixed right now? A very demanding teenager, you are. Don't worry—even if we did begin to fix the glitch, the process is way too fragile to have any interruption."

I breathe a sigh of relief. There is one more thing I want to know. "Dr. Kismen, presumably Gabriel is real, is he the one I'm donating my life to?"

Silence falls between us as I anxiously await her response.

"Would it put your mind at ease if you knew?" she asks. "Would it make you regret your decision less?"

"I honestly don't know," I respond with a shrug. "The only thing I know is that I care about Gabriel deeply.

Deanna plunges her attention back into the computer. Clearly, she's not going to reveal the truth to me, and even if she did, how would I know I can trust her? Dejected, I get up off the bed. I want to get home now. I'll finally see Micah, who should be back from camping by now.

I step forward when, all of a sudden, my bracelet lights up. I jump in surprise.

A dull computer voice states, "DEACTIVATED," and the light on the bracelet fades.

"What was that?" I ask.

"You want to know if Gabriel is your Receiver don't you?"

"Of course," I respond confidently. "But what just happened to my bracelet?"

"I deactivated it," Deanna said calmly.

"Deactivated? But why?" She's definitely going to kill me. I should have run away from this room earlier.

"You want to know the truth if Gabriel and Sophie truly exist in reality or if your mind just created them?"

"I do," I say, nodding. I've got nothing to lose, I need to know.

"I thought so," said Dr. Kismen, writing something down on a pad of paper."This is my home address; please meet me tomorrow morning at 6 am at my house. I will show you the truth." Standing up, she says, "I deactivated your bracelet, so your location can't be tracked for tomorrow. I shouldn't be having patients over at my house for morning teas—if you know what I mean." Dr. Kismen looks at me.

"Won't you get in trouble for this?" I ask.

"Only if I get I caught," she responds with a wink. "So are you in?"

"I've got nothing to lose," I say. "I will be there. Thank you so much for letting me go and not locking me up at Ultima. You are a good person."

She doesn't answer, but I can tell from her look she appreciates my comment.

We both exit the room. She escorts me right to the reception area, where she checks one more time if she's got her keys—that I didn't slip it into my pocket while we were walking.

Deanna chats with Dolores as I exit; she doesn't want me out of her sight until I've exited the building completely.

I wave to Dolores and Deanna and wait for an automatic door to open to let me outside of Ultima.

It's dark outside. It feels like the whole word has stopped. Scattered lights illuminate the small islands of space. Close to nine o'clock, the sky lights up in the same place, the pale glow gradually flares. The moon is here now. I look at it and wonder if there is life there? It looks like a mountain range or a silhouette of a person.

Maybe when I die, I'll be able to find all the keys to every mystery.

CROSSROADS

"Lina!"Micah screams in excitement, throwing his little body at me."You're home!". I catch him and hold him tight. I smell his curly hair—the scent of campfire still present helps me to paint images of their camping trip in my head.

"Did you have fun?" I ask, kissing him on the neck.

"Yes I did." he says.

Christina chimes in from the couch of the living room. "How were your days without us?" Her face got a bit of a tan from spending time in the sun.

"You know, just busy with work."

I put Micah down, and he runs off with Bennett.

"So you got the job at Ground Control then!" Christina says with excitement. "How is that going?"

I feel my stomach turning in anticipation of a parade of lies.

"Really well."

"You work long hours?" Christina asks.

All I can hear in my head, though, is, "I know you are lying to me, so just come clean already."

"Alina?" Christina calls out, snapping me out of my head.

"Yes, sorry," I say, grasping for something to tell her, "Ground Control, I work pretty late."

"Oh, I didn't know it's open late."

I'm caught off-guard."Training—" I spit out. "I—um...I'm still in training, so I have to stay a little later and then I've had a coffee with a friend afterward." I breathe a sigh of relief.

"Oh Alina, that sounds great. I'm so happy you are making friends."

I nod. I have no strength to turn my lies into words anymore.

"Where's Matt?" I ask, changing the subject.

"He's sleeping," Christina says quietly.

"Already?" I say in disbelief

"Well, yes. We're not spring chickens anymore—we need our beauty sleep." She smiles softly. "Besides, he spent a lot of time driving, and it completely drained him."

"How was the trip?" I ask, looking over to observe Micah and Bennett playing in the middle of living room. My heart is aching. Only two more weeks and I'll will be gone. What will Micah's days be like without me? How will he do in school? What about college? He will have enough money to go to a good universities. He's good at math—maybe he'll become a scientist who will help people like me.

I'm sure when Micah is older he will get a lot of attention from girls. He's gorgeous. I'm still amazed by how our horrible mother managed to produce a beauty like Micah. I tilt my head to the right and melt by the innocence of these kids.

I realize I've tuned out again, and have missed almost all of Christina's camping story. "—but overall the trip was awesome! We can't wait to go again next weekend, right guys?"

"Yah!" they all shout, Bennett and Micah pumping their fists in the air.

"That's wonderful Christina," I say.

"Are you coming with us, Alina?" Cristina asks.

"Oh..."

"Yes Lina!"Micah begs. "Please come with us!"

"I would love to, but—well... I just got this job, so I can't take any time off so soon, unfortunately." I look away from Christina's gaze.

"Surely you will have days off, right?"

Of course, that's something I hadn't thought about.

"Yes, I was off yesterday," I lie. God, I'm getting good at this.

"Oh, I see," Christina says, raises an eyebrow.

"I'll see what I can do, OK?" I say, lying again, but needing to talk about something else.

"Perfect!" Christina says. "Well, we should probably get these guys to bed soon."

I probably need to get some sleep too. I'm afraid of the bed... I know for a fact that as soon as my head hits the pillow, all the thoughts, all the fears, all the emotions will plug up my mind. The world seems closer to my eyes, and the air becomes soupy, harder to breathe. A glossy sheen coats my eyes and my thoughts scatter like there's an electrical storm in my head—too many short-circuits to make any sense. The only thing that comes to mind is, "run away... run away...". I clench my fists tightly until my nails dig into my palm, trying to snap out of my restlessness.

I hear Christina's bedroom light switching off—I need to get to sleep.

I sit by Micah's bed and run my hands through his hair.

"I'm so sorry" I whisper, sobbing. I'm alone now, I can cry as much as I want. The bracelet is deactivated; I'm no longer dependent on it. I'm free to go, I can leave now. Could I? Surely I'd let Dr. Kismen down, but do I really care about her anyway? My life is slipping through my fingers. I can grab Micah and run! We can run together. To a different city! A different country! But how can I do that with only 160 dollars in my pocket?

Micah turns in his bed.

What about Gabriel? He's real, isn't he? I still don't know. But it's possible that tonight is the only chance I'll have to run and not look back.

"Oh God, please tell me what I should do!" I call to heaven. "Run or stay?"

I can't fight—I have no energy to. I want to float. Float on the river of life until my Conversion. I hate myself for wanting to see Gabriel again. If I run, he dies. According to Dr. Kismen, tomorrow I will know more, and I will be able to determine what to do. But will I?

I try to hold back my tears. I have to stop crying or else my face and eyes will be puffy tomorrow morning.

Gabriel, why the hell did I meet you? As Dr. Kismen said, Dators shouldn't be crossing paths with Receivers. I hate you Gabriel for screwing everything up for me.

I need to pull myself together. So I stumble to my bed. After tomorrow's session, if the bracelet is still deactivated, I will run together with Micah. We will run into the unknown—into a scary adult world. Actually, I will not even wait for the session. I will make my decision after I see Dr. Kismen tomorrow morning.

MYSTERY UNFOLDING

I'm contemplating ringing the doorbell. But maybe I should run. What will be better?

Micah is still at Christina's, sleeping. Why didn't I just run with him? I aggressively scratch my forehead and growl. I'm here now, at Dr. Kismen's house.

Her place, a classic dual-level terrace, is nestled in one of the nicest areas of the city, her yard is spacious and green she's only a block away from cozy cafes and restaurants. I can only dream of living in an area like this. I guess ten years of schooling to become a doctor pays off eventually.

The terrace is blue, a dim light is poking through a curtain. She's awake and waiting for me.

There are three steps leading to the front door. I inch forward and place my foot on the first one. I exhale all the air out of my lungs. I'm a stupid girl, I think—I was given an opportunity to run and forget about everything, and I didn't take it. I wasted it. Unfortunately, I just know the way my mind is: even if I did run away, my decision would haunt me for the rest of my life. Eventually, I will probably end up taking my own life. As far as I'm concerned, my anxiety, guilty conscience, and hopelessness are not going anywhere.

The second step comes easier than the first as if I'm slowly accepting everything that's happening. I put my two feet on the second step and stand motionless. The wind blows, and my ivory dress opens up like a flower bud. My hair tie is next to my bracelet on my wrist. I tie my hair tight.

"It's time to go," I tell myself, taking the third and final step, placing my foot so far that for a second, I feel as though I'm about to lose control, but I gain it back quickly.

My hand quivers when I lift it up to ring the doorbell. Damn it! I knock on the door instead. In a moment of fear, I pray she won't answer, but I hear footsteps approaching. I can feel my death getting closer.

Her house alarm makes a brief beeping sound when she opens the door for me.

"Oh! Good morning, Alina," Dr. Kismen says, looking fresh and elegant in her business dress.

"Good morning. Didn't expect to see me?" I quip.

"Well—" she stops her sentence and shows me inside. "—I thought there was a chance you might take this opportunity to run away."

"I definitely thought about it," I say honestly. It's nice to be straightforward for once.

"I'm glad you are being honest with me," she says with a smile.

We walk down the hallway. I pay attention to the fabric and design. Her place has a lot of character; I can tell it's been refurbished. It combines antique features and character with modern additions, warm colors, and decoration. The roomy living area is composed of a spacious corner with two sofas that look extremely comfortable, wooden beams, art paintings, and modern equipment. At the end of the living area, there is a long balcony that lets a lot of natural light in. I imagine her having a coffee on the balcony every morning, breathing in the scent of flowers.

Even though I love the look of her home, something doesn't seem to be quite right here. The hair on the back of my neck stands up as if sensing the presence of something. I glance around and spot a photograph on the mantelpiece. I head straight to it—I want to know who is in the picture.

Lifting up the dusty wooden frame and looking closely, I see a happy couple posing for the camera. Dr. Kismen looked so different when it was taken. Strange as it sounds, she appeared in the picture to be more real than in real life. The man in the picture is tall and broad-shouldered; despite his smile, his eyes look sad. I guess my first impression of Dr. Kismen was wrong. She does not have a cat that's waiting for her every night—she's got a man instead.

"Would you mind putting that down?" Dr. Kismen asks.

I place the picture back where it belongs and lock eyes with her.

"Please sit down," she says, pointing to one of the couches. "I made us coffee." She invites me to take one of the cups from the coffee table.

I smile. "Coffee might actually be a good idea right now, thanks."

"There is sugar and milk too if you need some."

"I'm fine—I like it black."

"We have a few minutes. Let's finish our coffee, and then I will take you somewhere." Her tone is friendly.

"Where?" I ask impatiently.

"You'll see."

"Hm—" I sigh, taking a sip of coffee. My face crumbles like an old paper bag.

"Too strong?" she says with a chuckle.

"May be a little," I admit.

"Just put some sugar in," Deanna says, trying to hide her smile.

I put one teaspoon in and stir it. "Where is your husband?" I ask abruptly.

"Pardon?"

Her face turns red, possibly from anger—or maybe embarrassment.

"—Or boyfriend," I rush to clarify.

"I don't have one!" she says in a slightly raised voice. Must've been anger.

"Who's the man in that picture, then?"

I hardly have time to be polite.

"That's not really your business," she replies sharply, putting her coffee cup down on the table. She's definitely mad.

"I'm sorry. I don't know why I'm acting so inappropriately."

"Because you are a teenager," she says, "and that's what you sometimes do."

"I suppose so."

"You want to know who the man in the picture is?" she asks, pointing at the photo.

"I'm just curious," I say innocently.

"I guess I could tell you now," she says, looking down at her shoes.

"If you want to tell me, tell me now—it's not like I have fifty years to live."

Deanna looks at her watch and says, "Finish your coffee. We should get going soon."

I chug my coffee in one go and get up off the sofa.

"You finished already?" she says in surprise.

"You told me too!"

"Well, I didn't mean right this second."

"Like I said, my time is limited." I sit back down.

What a waste of my precious time this is, sitting here, making empty conversation with Dr. Kismen when I could be with Micah.

"Your place is very nice," I say dryly.

"You like it?"

"I do. It's very elegant. I like the art." I shift uncomfortably in my seat.

"The man in that picture? He's the artist."

"That's cool. Is he here?" I ask, looking around.

"No, he's not." she says, her eyes still lowered.

"Ah. That's too bad," I say.

"Yes, it is..." she says, her voice breaking a little. "...He's dead."

My eyes open wide from that unexpected bit of information.

"That's unfortunate," I say, and right away think that I should have come up with something more sincere and personal.

"Yes, it is," she says solemnly as she gets up and walks toward the fireplace. She lifts the picture and looks longingly at it.

"Have you ever lost someone you love?" she asks, turning to look at me. I don't have anywhere to run from her gaze.

I swallow the lump in my throat and try to think quickly. Frankly, I don't know what to tell her.

"No, I guess I haven't," I answer finally.

"You are one of the lucky ones then."

"I've never thought of myself that way," I say.

"Of course you haven't," Deanna says judgmentally as she pulls her long brown hair back.

Despite being hurt by the intimation, I keep my mouth shut. She can reactivate my bracelet at any moment and keep me at Ultima until The Conversion.

She doubles down: "What? You disagree? You don't consider yourself lucky?"

"I guess I don't know what to say. I don't want to argue with you, but I disagree. I'm far from being lucky."

"Really?"

The question sets me off, and suddenly I can't hold it together anymore."Yes really!" I shout."You don't know my life, Deanna! You just think you're so smart because you are a doctor. You are so arrogant!"

"Oh yeah?" Dr. Kismen counters. "I don't know your life, huh? Let me guess." She puts her index finger to her mouth sarcastically. "Unhappy little Alina Bruhler," she whines. "What, you were raised in poverty? You have an evil mother who doesn't love you? Join the club! Were you sexually assaulted or abused? You know how many women go through that? You get therapy. You move on."

"Please stop," I plead, covering my ears. "I can't listen to this anymore."

"No, I'm not going to stop!" Her eyes are red; she looks possessed. "Everyone has their own story, Alina. People get hurt. People suffer. But that's not a reason to give up on life!" She begins to cry. I'm dumbstruck, my brain desperately scrambling to make sense of it all. I hate her for saying those hurtful words, but seeing her crying brings up within me sympathy for her. I want to help her.

After a minute, she seems to calm down, grabbing a tissue from the side table and wiping her eyes.

"I'm sorry," she murmurs, cleaning up her running mascara. "I'm being extremely unprofessional right now."

"It's alright," I respond quietly.

"Alina?"

"Yes?"

"You've got compassion, and within your compassion lies your true self. You haven't lost that self, despite all the hardships that you went through. It's something for you to be proud of. The world needs more people like you."My chest tightens, and she continues: "I just want to tell you, Alina, that life is the only thing you've got. You can't just throw it away. You have to fight your fears, your resentments. You have to think of people that will be left behind after you are gone. You can't even imagine how hard it is for them to keep living when you are no longer here."

"What if I don't have people that love me?" I ask.

"But you do!"

"How do you know that?"

"Because you told me in our first meeting!"

"I did?"

"Your little brother, right?"

She is right. I do have him, and he genuinely loves me.

"Somehow you remind me of Damien," she says with a sigh.

"Who's Damien?"

"The artist, the one who painted all these pictures," she says as she scans the room. "I was engaged to him—we'd been together for a long time. The first time I met him, I knew he was the one for me." She walks toward the dining area, grabs a glass of water, and offers me one. I decline. I want to keep listening to her.

"He was just so different from everyone else I had met. It felt like he was too delicate for this world. Hard to explain, I guess." She checks her watch and continues: "We have to get going, I still need to take you somewhere, and we can't be late for our session."

"What happened to Damien?" I ask, following her to the kitchen.

She tosses the rest of her water into the sink and watches it drain.

"He left," she says. "When we started dating, I knew something wasn't right. He kept going through these phases. He was trying to 'find himself.' I did what I could. I tried to cheer him, which, most of the time doesn't actually work. I tried to leave him alone and just let him be. We went to every psychologist in the city; we tried every drug that was on the market at that time. Sometimes the pills worked, but it was just a temporary bandage that slipped off after few hours. Nothing worked long-term. His state worsened day after day. And he started to pull me down with him." She looks up from the drain. "One day I'd had enough and told him to leave. I gave up on him. Just like that," she says, snapping her fingers. "Maybe instead of creating this revolutionary technology that transfers life, we should have created something that saves people from destroying themselves."

I'm speechless. I'm afraid to ask her about the resolution of their love story.

"Anyway," she goes on, "after that fight we, our engagement was over. And when I got back to the house after work, a terrifying silence welcomed me. I knew this was the end of me. I walked into our bedroom, and there he was, peacefully lying in bed, faded and cold. My world had stopped in that instant."

Her face goes flush, and her tears begin to flow. I just stare, aimlessly, letting her be.

She washes her face with cold water, takes a deep breath, and says, "We must leave now," she tells me while drying her face with a paper towel. "Great now my face is all puffy."

"You still look beautiful," I say sincerely and give her weak smile.

"Thank you" she appreciates my compliment.

"Dr. Kismen," I say. "I'm very sorry for your loss." Even though I'm not particularly fond of this saying, I think that in this particular circumstance, it makes perfect sense. I'm deeply touched by her story.

"I'm sorry too. And yet, I keep living, no matter how much it hurts. I live everyday thinking about him, carrying this burden and guilt. But there is nothing I can do." She slowly walks to the hallway and opens the front door for me. "We really should go. I will show you the truth, and then you can decide what path to choose."

We get to her car, and I watch her slide into the driver's seat, starting the engine with the push of a button. I wonder where the car is taking us and also why doesn't she have one of those driveless cars? She probably doesn't trust technology.

"You know Alina," she says gently, "I don't know you that well, but you seem like a decent person. Someone that would make a good friend." Keeping her hands on the wheel and her eyes face forward on the road, she continues, "I know I can trust you."

"Everything I did and told you yesterday and today is only between us. No one can know about it—understand?"

"I understand," I say. I can feel my veins pulsating in my neck."Would you get in trouble if someone found out?"

"Yes, I would."

"Like—big trouble?"

"Most definitely."

"Is your life in danger?" I ask, frightened.

"You mean my physical life? Or an emotional side of things?

"Yes, your physical life. You won't get killed, will you?"

"Killed? What do you think this is, some kind of movie? You've got a good imagination." she says with a laugh."But to answer your question, no, I won't get killed. We live in a pretty safe area—no one kills anyone around here." She looks at me, awaiting my reaction.

I don't find her dark humor that hilarious.

"It's really too bad you've made the choice that you have," she said.

"Why?"

"Because you are a good person," she says, matter-of-factly. "Actually, I want to apologize again for my rude remarks back at the house. I didn't mean to—"

"—I know," I sympathize.

"Anyway, it's unfortunate that very soon the world will lose such a fantastic person."

"But when the world loses me, it will get someone even better." I look up and think of Gabriel.

"I doubt that," Dr. Kismen says.

Nobody ever told me that I was a good person. I have to admit it feels very weird to hear. I would never consider myself a good person. I hate Gloria with every fiber of my being, and that alone should exclude me from the "good people" group.

The Novus center begins to appear on the horizon, and my heart starts to race.

"Novus center?" I ask. "We're going to Novus center?"

"Yes," she smiles.

We pull into the parking lot at the back of the building.

"We're just in time, "she says, turning off her engine. "He will arrive soon."

"Ready?" she smiles.

"Yes."

"You'll need to wear this," she says, reaching for a white lab coat in the back seat.

"What do I need that for?"

"So I can take you inside."

The pinching feeling inside my stomach gives way to anxiety: I'm going inside the center where life is being received.

"We will have to go through the back," she says, tucking my hair back. "Good thing you look mature for your age."

"Great," I mumble. I hesitantly put on the coat, and Dr. Kismen sticks a key card into my front pocket.

"Now you belong here," she says.

We exit the car and walk toward the building. I avoid making eye contact with anyone.

"You look suspicious," she says, jerking my hand. "Just breath, OK? Try to relax."

"Sorry, I'm just nervous." I touch my temple and apply slight pressure with my finger.

"Let's keep moving," she says firmly.

I don't know what to expect. What will I see inside?

Dr. Kismen swipes one of her many key cards, and she walks confidently ahead when I nervously trudge behind her. As we walk inside, we are greeted by along the clean magnolia corridor. The hallway has as much personality as the rest of the Novus center. The ceiling is made from polystyrene squares laid out in a grid-like fashion. Everything is so new and spotless that I feel like the whole building must have just gotten beamed here from someplace dirt is outlawed. People dressed in a medical uniforms move calmly, with purpose, from room to room. There are vases of flowers and beautiful framed pieces of art on the walls. The air has an undertone of an ocean breeze—it's quite pleasant. Somehow the aroma captures everything good: the hope of a new life and the excitement of new beginnings. Novus center is so different from Ultima. If Ultima looked and felt like Novus, surely people would second-guess their decisions.

As I observe my surroundings and inhale the incredible scent. We get approached by a nurse. I put my head down right away in an attempt to escape this encounter. I can only picture the glossy shine on my forehead that's been formed in an instance. This pleasant nurse can probably be able to see her reflection in it. Salty drops are starting to invade my eyes. The sweat is overwhelming.

"Good morning Dr. Kismen," the nurse says cheerily. "Didn't expect to you see you here today."

We are totally going to get busted.

"Yes," Dr. Kismen replies, "it's been a very busy couple of weeks. I had to take on an intern. Need to show her around—introduce her to all the procedures and protocols."

"Right on!" The nurse looks at me and smiles. "You are very lucky to have Deanna as your mentor."

I force a smile, but the lump in my throat prevents me from talking.

"What's your name?" the nurse asks.

I panic and look over at Dr. Kismen.

"Her name is Meghan," she answers for me."We really should be going now; the procedure is about to begin." She places her hand on my forearm and smiles at the nurse. "It was very nice talking to you, Gina."

"You too, Dr. Kismen. It was nice meeting you, Meghan."

I nod to her as she walks away, exhaling for the first time in what seems like minutes.

I thought I would suffocate. During this brief random conversation, I held my breath the entire time. As Deanna and I keep moving, my sweat is a welcome addition now, it's cooling my body.

"This way," Dr. Kismen says as we turn a corner.

We approach an elevator and wait for it to arrive. Everything feels like a dream. Some people live their lives so uneventfully—each day the same as the day before. My life was like that until I stumbled across the billboard advertising The Conversion and I signed the LifeTrans contract.

"What are you thinking about?" she asks me while we enter the elevator.

"Everything," I answer.

"Are you nervous?"

"Yes, I am." I bite a piece of cuticle off my index finger. "Novus is very different from Ultima," I say.

"It sure is," she agrees. "Stays are shorter, healing faster, depression negligible. Turns out we're animals after all, and our 'habitat' matters—our mental and physical health are too intertwined to separate. We have to give the people here hope—strength to fight and go on."

"Right," I say. "So where are we going?"

"Intensive Care unit, first," she answers.

"Intensive Care unit? What for?"

"Be patient," she says soothingly as we exit the elevator. "You will see momentarily."

We come up to the light brown door, and she scans her card to unlock it.

"Please come in." She holds the door open and waits for me to enter. As we walk in, an automatic light turns on.

This room reminds me of the glass room where I have my daily Mentior sessions. The walls are pale white—no pictures. There is a small desk by the curtain that covers the front wall. Computers and medical equipment fill the corners of the room.

Dr. Kismen walks in front of the desk, and opens the curtain, uncovering a glass wall. I come up beside her to see inside.

The light is bright on the other side. The room has cartoon characters, and a forest painted on the walls. The bed appears to be a rustic bamboo, but I assume it's still metal underneath. On the bed, there is a small body connected to different gadgets by so many cords. Beside the bed, there is a sad couple sitting and mourning her lifeless body. I swallow the lump in my throat—seeing this picture makes me sick to my stomach.

"They can't see us," Dr. Kismen reassures me. "The glass is one-sided."

"Who's in the bed?" I ask. My voice breaks from sadness.

"Sophie," she replies.

"Sophie?!" I say in despair, touching the glass, trying to reach for her, to hold her close to my heart.

"Yes," she says. "And those are her parents by her side, waiting for their little girl to receive life."

"But in Mentior she's healthy and happy!" I protest.

"Because that's how she sees herself," she explains, "healthy and happy. You see, Receivers can control how they look in Mentior—Dators can't."

"What happened to her?" I ask.

"Very bad injury. She's currently in an induced coma. She would not be able to go on for much longer if she didn't receive a new life."

"Induced coma? Why?"

"It's used to protect the brain and to connect to Mentior."

I catch a glimpse of the eyes of Sophie's mother as she unintentionally looks at me. Her gloomy gaze reminds me of Nicole's—full of misery and agony.

"Is she waiting for my life?" I ask, turning to Dr. Kismen. My knees feel weak. I need to get control of my breathing.

"Something you must remember is that the people who pay the most get longest lives. Your lifespan is like gold to most of the Receivers. Unfortunately, Sophie's parents are completely drained, financially. They've been fighting for Sophie's life for so long, and they don't have much left. They sold their house and all of their possessions. They would never have been able to afford your life."

"Whose life is she getting, then?"

I close my eyes and wait for a response.

"Nicole's," she answers solemnly. "Her parents were only able to afford a life span of 30 to 35 years."

"It's awful how you talk about a Dator's life as just a product to sell," I say.

"Well—" she says, trying to find the words. "It's the reality of the situation. I don't know what else you want me to say."

"No, I get it. Reality can be brutal—that's why I chose to leave it."

Life, reality—they are not fair. Why is Sophie lying in a hospital bed right now? What did her parents do to deserve this?

"Do they have other kids?" I ask Dr. Kismen. I imagine another child might act as some kind of safety valve for them.

"No, she's the only one they've got," she says, fixing her eyes on Sophie.

"Do you have any kids, Dr. Kismen?" I ask.

"No," she answers shortly.

I don't need to say anything more, she wants to be silent right now. I watch Sophie's mother. The tears flow unchecked down her cheeks. She just sits there, still as a statue, while the magnitude of her sorrow sweeps over her. Her grief seems to surge with every exhalation, always reaching higher peaks—never sufficiently soothed by her long intakes of this ocean breeze air. I just know that she would move heaven and earth for Sophie if she had the power. She would surely give her own life—any time, any place—if The Conversion process allowed it.

I look back at Dr. Kismen. "What does grief feel like?"

"Grief?" She pauses. "Hard to explain, I guess. When Damien left, I felt empty. It felt like a hollow in my heart—a sheer nothingness that somehow took over threatened to suck my soul in entirely. It gave me a heavy feeling, like the weight of the world, was resting on my shoulders. And there was nothing I could do to get out from under it. A deep hole in my heart, the shape of the one I lost, makes me feel the need to wipe away any tears that I want so badly to form, but often can't." She covers her eyes with her hand and takes a moment.

Her words touch my heart, and my thoughts turn to Nicole. What shall I tell Nicole today at the session? Do I tell her about everything that I have seen? What if she asks me to save her? My bracelet is still deactivated, so technically, I can do it, if I'm careful enough. But what about Sophie and her parents? I shift my gaze to Sophie again. I can hardly see her beautiful face with all the medical equipment in the way.

I ask Dr. Kismen: "How long has she been like that?"

"It's been over three months. She can't go on for much longer. In this pilot program, she's our youngest patient. Actually, that's one of the reasons she's been chosen. She's got a full life ahead of her. I hope the life-transfer is a success."

"If she's the youngest patient, why is she getting only 30 to 35 years? That's not really fair, is it? Why is she not getting my life instead? I've got 50 to 55 years, don't I?"

"Well, in an ideal world, that's how it would be—Sophie would receive your life. But as I said to you before, her parents could only afford the life of someone who's older."

"Money decide everything," I admit pitifully.

"In this world, it does," she agrees. "Since Sophie is not responsive, she has to stay at Novus full time, and that, unfortunately, comes with the high price tag as well. Her parents are staying here with her—they don't leave her side even for a minute."

"I can imagine," I reply. Silence hangs in the air like the suspended moment before a falling glass shatters on the ground. I just can't keep my eyes off Sophie and her parents. Once a happy family, their lives have been divided into "before and after."

"Her room has a nice setup," I say, trying to put a positive spin on things.

"Yes, we have a few kids rooms in Novus. We wanted to add some happiness to them."

She flashes me a rigid smile and then says, "Alina, we need to get going." She points to the exit door.

One last time, I scan Sophie's hospital room where so many emotions and pain concentrated. "We have one more stop before heading back to Ultima," Dr. Kismen says, shutting the curtain and leading the way.

All my thoughts are mashed together into one messy porridge. If Sophie is receiving Nicole's life, maybe that's why this Mentior glitch brought them together?

"Come on," Dr. Kismen says in a sharp whisper. "Hurry up!"

"Goodbye, little Sophie," I say, waving at the curtain. I follow behind Dr. Kismen, trying to use her body as a shield to avoid the prying eyes of employees passing by.

By the elevator, Dr. Kismen puts her hand my shoulder, as if trying to comfort me somewhat. She doesn't say anything, but her facial expression reveals that our next stop will likely shake me to the core.

"After you," she says, holding the elevator door open. I give her a soft smile.

We reach the floor, and I can't help but notice the same clean and dustless setup. Nurses smile as they pass. Dr. Kismen picks up speed, her footsteps clip-clopping down the bleached tile hallway, demonstrating that she has no time to chat with anyone. We finally enter the room; it has a very similar vibe to the one that we were just in a minute ago. White blinds cover one wall. I'm terrified to see what's behind it.

"They will be here shortly," she says without looking at me as if talking to herself.

I will be patient and will not ask who she's referring to.

Dr. Kismen stops, approaches a wall and pushes a button for the blinds to go up. Through the one-sided glass, I can see into another hospital room. This room resembles a fancy coffee shop somewhere in a world-class city. There are flowers, beautiful paintings, and leather chairs. On the wall is a plasma screen and the bed looks comfortable.

"Any minute now," Dr. Kismen sings.

I squeeze my stomach to dull my jitters. My vision goes blurry from anticipation, and then I see the door opening. A woman in her late 40s or early 50s walks in slowly. I don't recognize her. Right behind her is a person in a wheelchair. I squint to see better. I must be dreaming—I finally draw the parallel between the person in front of me and Mentior. I'm paralyzed—and I can't look away. The wheelchair stops, and he stares, seemingly at me, despite not being able to see me through the mirror side of the glass. All of his energy and good looks have been sucked out of him by the deadly disease; his face is pale as a white sheet of paper. His body is polluted by the cancerous cells, every move he makes appears to leave him in tremendous agony. His muscles, his bones, his organs—all have difficulties hearing his brain's command.

He turns away, perhaps ashamed of his struggle. I touch the glass and tears run down my face. I want to scream and tell him that I don't care if he fades and withers. My heart will still fill up with tenderness and passion at the mere sight of his face. A hospital gown doesn't scare me.

"Gabriel," I say, trying to regain my balance.

"Yes," Dr. Kismen confirms. "It's him."

I place my hands on the glass and put my head down.

"Now you know everything," Dr. Kismen says, putting her hand on my back. "Gabriel does exist, and he's the receiver of your life. His parents are very wealthy; they were able to secure a long life span for their son. They actually went through a lot in the past ten years—"

"—Deanna, please," I cut in. "Can you just give me a minute? I need to process everything."

She walks away and sits in a chair by the desk.

With great pain, I lift my head up and scan Gabriel's hospital room through the glass, taking in every detail. Gabriel's mother and one of the nurses gently put him into the bed, getting him ready for the session. He turns his head toward the glass again and seems to look right at me.

"Are you sure he can't see me?" I ask.

She gets up and walks over to me.

"No, he can't," she says confidently.

"Why is he looking at me, then?"

"That's something I can't tell you."

"He's definitely looking at me," I say. Our eyes meet, and suddenly I know. I can see it clearly: I can't lose him. "What do you need these observer rooms for anyway?" I ask. "To spy on your patients?"

"No, no—not to spy," she answers."Just to keep everything under control."

A doctor walks into Gabriel's room and starts examining him, and plugging different cords into him.

"Is the preparation going to start now?" I ask.

"Not yet," she says. "They have to run a bunch of tests on him first. But we need to start moving, now."

"What kind of tests?" I ask her as we start walking out of the room.

"Health tests: blood work, urine tests, blood pressure." She signals for me to hurry up.

With my head down, I follow.

"You know Gabriel doesn't have much time left," she says as we walk.

"What do you mean?"

"The current prognosis is that he will make it to The Conversion. But with cancer, you never know."

At this moment, I have an urge to punch Deanna in a face. Gabriel will make it. I know it!

"He will make it to The Conversion!" I yell defensively. "I know he will!"

Dr. Kismen starts to speak but then stops.

"What?" I say defiantly. "You want to say something? Please go ahead!"

"I was just going to say that if he does make it to The Conversion, you will die. That's it—that's all."

The truth hurts. I stand in the middle of the hallway—my face, rigid with tension. I hold my hands tightly in fists.

"Can I help you find something?" a husky male voice says to me.

"Oh! I—um..." I have to speak, but I can't. This man in a white lab coat intimidates me. I can't make eye contact with him. He looks like my chemistry teacher from school, and I hated that guy.

"Ah, George, she's with me," Dr. Kismen says as she rushes back to me and grabs my arm.

"Hello there, Deanna! How have you been? What are you doing here?",

"I'm fine, but in a bit of a hurry," she says, trying to keep it short.

"And who's this young lady with you?" he asks.

"She's my intern," she says with a fake, tired smile

"That's fantastic. Well, I will catch up with you later then." He shows off his white teeth with a smile and walks down the hall, when out of the blue, he turns and says, "Deanna, aren't you supposed to be at Ultima right now?"

I feel dizzy.

"I'm headed there right now, George," she says rigidly, holding tightly to my arm. "We will catch up later, OK?"

We walk swiftly toward the exit and out to Dr. Kismen's car.

"That guy was so annoying," I complain while shifting around uncomfortably in the passenger seat.

"Who, George?" Dr. Kismen asks.

"Yeah! Does he really need to ask so many questions? I thought we were going to get busted." I breathe out, and can still feel the adrenaline pumping through my body from our little adventure.

"Oh, George is all right—he's harmless. A great doctor and a great colleague."

"He's too old for you," I say wryly.

She chuckles. "Thank you, yes, I'm aware of that. I've never looked at him that way. I don't really look at men anymore, after Damien's passing." She takes a deep breath. "Alina, do you remember the day at Ultima when I was upset and rude to you? It was during one of the preparation sessions?"

"Yes, I definitely remember."

"Right... Well, that day was the anniversary of Damien's death. I felt shattered—I apologize for taking it out on you."

"That's OK," I say.

"It seems impossible to recover from the loss of a loved one," she says, turning the wheel and looking into her side mirror.

"I imagine it's probably very hard."

"Sometimes it's just unbearable. You are so lucky you've never lost someone you love."

It's the second time I've heard her say that, and her words still seem unfair. Suddenly defensive, I say, "Yes, that's right! I'm so lucky I've never lost anyone I love! But let me ask you something, Dr. Kismen: has your mother ever pimped you out to be raped by some monster?"

"I'm sorry?"

"Just answer me!" I demand.

"No! That's horrible!

"Isn't it? You are lucky that it never happened to you!" I keep on: "Do you get bullied and insulted at your workplace and home on a daily basis?"

"No."

"Well, you are so lucky then!" I turn and look out the window. "You said to me before that you don't know everybody's story, so you can't just assume that a person is lucky because they haven't lost someone. What if that person never even had someone to love or someone who loved them?" I cross my arms, prepared for a rebuttal.

The sun is getting brighter now, so Deanna reaches for her sunglasses and puts them on. "I hear you, Alina."

I expect on the subject, but that was it: "I hear you." A heavy silence falls between us all the way back to the Ultima Center.

"I will have to drop you here," Deanna says pulling the car to the side of the road. "It will take you about ten minutes to walk to Ultima. I just don't want anyone to see us together. Patients and doctors shouldn't be hanging out together."

"OK," I say, eager for the fresh air anyway.

"Alina" she calls.

"Yes?" I turn to Deanna and stop myself from opening the car door.

"I just—" she begins,"—I will see in a few minutes." After a long breath, she says, "And your bracelet is still deactivated. I will see you soon."

I nod in acknowledgment. The bracelet is de-activated—in essence, she is giving me a pass to run, to escape. She wants to save me, maybe by saving me she will overcome the burden of guilt she feels after losing Damien.

I look down at my shoes and watch my feet dragging me toward Ultima.

Gabriel, Gabriel, Gabriel! I saw the real him today, and I didn't care how he looked—all I wanted was to be with him, to surround him with my care. I have to see him again. My feelings are real—they are as clear as day. My body and my soul need to see him just as much as I need oxygen. I can't abandon him there in Mentior; I can't doom his chance to live. How could I live with myself knowing that Gabriel couldn't go through The Conversion, and died in a result? Why did I run into him that day? Why did he give me hope for tomorrow? Why did he show me the beauty of the world? Why did he bring out the passion in me?

I realize that it's not my brain that is leading me to Ultima, but rather my heart and my desire for Gabriel. I reach into my purse for a tissue, but instead, I grab my phone—one message notification. Who could it be from? Gloria, of course.

"I know what you are up to, you conniving brat! You better come back home, otherwise, I promise you and Micah will suffer!!!!!" Reading her threatening message scares me at first, but then I come to my senses and realize it's just an empty threat. She will never see Micah again; she doesn't know where he is. I will not let her ruin his life. I turn off my phone and shove it back into my purse. I wish I could just throw it away. My life would have been so different if only Gloria was dead! I don't care what she has to say!

Angry, I walk faster. The automatic doors of Ultima open up just in time for me to barge in.

Dolores is in her usual spot, staring at her computer screen. Dr. Kismen stands nearby her. I sense what seems to be a tinge of disappointment in her eyes—I don't know if she expected to see me.

"Good morning," I say to Dolores.

"You're here," Dr. Kismen says with surprise.

"Of course she's here," Dolores chimes in, chuckling. "Where else would she be?"

Dr. Kismen and I look at each other, and she signals for me to follow her.

Once in the room, she puts on the Mentior helmet. "Ready?" she asks. "Can I assume you won't be spending time in your memories today?"

"Nope. Not so long as it doesn't interrupt the process. I prefer to be happy in my final days, next to my friends."

"Your friends?"

"Yes! Sophie, Nicole, and Gabriel. They are my friends. Friends that I will miss terribly when I go."

Dr. Kismen's face turns compassionate, and she strokes my hand with hers. Her touch is warm and caring.

The glass visor comes down slowly.

"You have a good session, Alina," she says, cheering me on.

"I most certainly will!"

I admit, though, that fear still lives in me—it is an invisible demon sitting heavy on my shoulders. What if Deanna is lying to me and glitch has been fixed? I say a prayer to myself: Gabriel, please wait for me, I need to see you, and I need to hold you! I want to be with you!

Awakening in my memory, I start running. I don't think I've ever run as fast as I'm running right now. I need to get away from my dreadful memories. I approach the theater and see people scattered all around, walking in different directions. My heart is nearly jumping out of my chest. I scan the crowd but see no signs of Gabriel, Nicole, or Sophie. Sweat runs down my temples. I move amongst the families, my eyes darting more wildly with each passing second, noticing any blonde boy wearing jeans, hoping it might be Gabriel, but to no avail. I'm close to giving up, when, in the distance, I suddenly catch a glimpse of a familiar figure. The glow on my face is impossible to hide, affection and tenderness fill my soul. I run into his arms, and his lips form a big smile. He catches my restless body and lifts me up. I clasp his body with my legs—he's not going anywhere now. And there I see it—the most coveted, a most long-awaited glance that I've waited my whole life for. Gabriel doesn't need to say anything. I see the way he looks at me. He learns every feature of my face; he's searching for a confirmation of a mutual feeling.

I push back his hair, and my eyes tell him everything he needs to know. I slightly touch his lips with my cold fingers. I want to take in every inch of his breath. Our lips merge into one, and our hearts beat in unison. I hold his face so tightly.

I am free: no dark thoughts, no suffering—nothing negative is in my head. Only Gabriel, and his kiss. It's hard to break the rhythm of our passion, but this has to be the time. I can't bring myself to feel any more, to desire any more from him. I'm forever damaged and can't be healed.

I force my eyes open in the hopes that it will make it easier for me to let go of him. I was wrong—so wrong. Watching him being so invested and consumed in me made my craving even stronger. But I find my inner strength and release my strong grasp, letting his torso free.

He gently helps me find my balance while still keeping his lips on mine.

I trip over my foot. Gracefulness is not my strong suit, that's for sure. It makes me laugh, and I lean backward to prevent him from kissing me while I giggle, but somehow he still manages to find my lips.

"Gabriel, Gabriel! Stop!" I say, laughing, while finally setting myself free from his embrace. Unromantically, I wipe the lower half of my face to hide the evidence from Nicole's eagle eyes.

"Sorry, sorry!" Gabriel says playfully. "I just can't stop kissing you." His eyes have a joyful flame in them. I didn't see it this morning at Novus—that flame has been extinguished by his illness.

"I can't believe what one day of being apart can do to a girl," he says with a smirk.

"Yeah, I'm sorry I was acting so bizarre yesterday..."

"No worries!" And with that, he confidently takes my hand, and we walk ahead.

"Shall we listen to some music today, or would you be interested in seeing a play instead?"

I have a sudden urge to look for Nicole. I need to share everything that happened to me: my conversations with Dr. Kismen, my visit to the Novus Center, seeing Sophie and Gabriel in real life. I have to share my feelings with someone, or they will overwhelm me, and I wouldn't be able to control my angst. I ignore his question and ask him gently: "Have you seen Nicole or Sophie?" I ask and smile.

"No. You want to wait for them?" Gabriel knows my answer already. It's funny how we both can read each other so well already.

"Is that OK?" I ask demurely.

"Of course."

I put my arm around his waist, and he puts his arm on my shoulder, pulls me in, and kisses my hair.

"You are so cute!" he says.

"Thank you." I blush.

I breathe in the ocean air, and it reminds me of the morning at Novus. It brings back the memories of Sophie's lifeless body and Gabriel's wan face.

"So can I tell you about something weird that happened to me today?" Gabriel asks while leading me to the bench by the water.

"Of course. What happened?"

"Well, I was at the Novus this morning and, um..." Gabriel trails off.

My face goes pale—I'm afraid to know what it is, but I can't resist."And?"

"And I was going through doctor's testing, and then—It was weird, you might think I'm crazy, but—well, I clearly sensed your presence in the room."

My heart jumps when I hear his words, and I try to hide my shock: "What do you mean?"

"It was just so weird," he says. "I can't explain it, but honest to God, I felt your presence inside that room.

"That's kind of creepy," I say, while a rush of energy goes through my body.

"I know, I know," Gabriel agrees. "Anyway, I'm glad that we haven't run into each other at Novus yet—I mean, as much as I want to see you, in reality, I can't let you see me in the state I'm in right now," he says, lowering his head.

I want to tell him that I accept him just as he is, with or without illness. I sneak under his arm again and press my ear to his heart. I need to remember his every heartbeat.

"Alina," he says, "where in the Novus are you staying?"

I dig in my fingers into him in panic. I have to think fast, but nothing believable comes to mind, so I'm just left staring at him with an empty smile.

"And what happened to you?" he goes on. "Are you at Novus full time or just during the days?"

I decide to take a defensive approach: "Why do you want to know that? Does it even matter? You said yourself that you don't want to see me while you are sick?"

"Yeah, but—I mean, I still want to know more about you, know your story."

Gabriel holds me tighter.

I don't want to tell him more about myself. Reality doesn't have a place in Mentior. Mentior is our fantasy, our dream.

"Hm..." I mumble quietly, staying still under his arm.

"You don't want to tell me?" he asks with a smile. "You are so mysterious."

"I have to be—it makes life more interesting."

I look up and touch his face, his perfectly smooth skin. I could look at him forever.

He runs his finger down my face. "You are beautiful," he tells me.

I wrap my hand around his neck and tilt his head close to my face. I start with a gentle kiss on his cheek, and I hear and take in his every breath. I slowly move to his lips, he gives in and unlocks them. His breath is warm and full of desire.

"Don't try to distract me with you sweet kisses," Gabriel mutters with his eyes closed, still enjoying the kiss.

"What do you mean?" I say, taking a quick pause from kissing him.

"I mean you are trying to make me confused and avoid talking about yourself," Gabriel replies, pulling back and opening his eyes.

"No," I say innocently.

"At least tell me your last name."

"It's 'Bruhler.'"

"Nice name,"

"You think?"

"Sure, but Holding is better." Gabriel winks playfully. "Alina Holding is perfect."

I hear Nicole's voice in the distance and Gabriel, and I find ourselves moving to the opposite sides of the bench, out of habit. "I knew you guys would be here!" Nicole calls.

"So happy to see you, Nicole," Gabriel says with a grin.

"I'm sure you are," Nicole says while stroking Sophie's hair.

Sophie chose a beautiful green dress for today's session. I love the colors that she always picks.

"Sophie and I were thinking about going to a park not too far from here. I assume you guys want to be alone?"

"Can I get more ice cream?" Sophie asks in her sweet voice.

Nicole looks down at her. "Of course, sweetheart!" Nicole's face always glows when she hears Sophie's voice.

"Well then, we will leave you alone." Nicole gives me a knowing look.

"Wait!" I call, hopping up off the bench and walking over to Nicole. I need to inform her about the events that happened this morning.

"I assume you guys need to talk about "girl stuff" again?" Gabriel says, a little miffed.

"C'mon, Gabriel!" I sulk.

"What? I get it—you want to be mysterious, and you trust Nicole more than me. Fine by me!" he folds his arm across his chest and lets loose a bit of a smile.

"You guys, don't fight!" Sophie butts in. It makes us all smile.

"We are not fighting, sweetheart; we just discussing something," Nicole explains to Sophie.

"He looks unhappy," Sophie says, pointing at Gabriel.

Straight away, it melts his heart. He scoops Sophie up into his arms and walks ahead—her laugh can wake the dead from their grave.

"We are going to get us some ice cream!" Gabriel shouts while taking big steps forward.

Nicole and I wait for them to get far enough that they can no longer hear us.

"So?"Nicole asks. "What did you need to tell me?"

As per usual, I don't know where to start "How are you?" I ask as a stalling tactic.

"Good, I guess," she responds. "I mean, I don't know... Still sad, still hesitant about my decision, still sort of hating myself for making a decision to turn to the last resort, selling my life. Other than that, though, I'm happy to be here in this fantasy together with Sophie." She continues, "I mean, I look at you and think to myself, what a stupid decision you've made! You are still so young!"

"Thanks for your support," I say sarcastically. "Those are exactly the words I want to hear right now."

"But seriously!" Nicole protests.

"Whatever! I've made my decision already! No need to dig into it!" I'm losing my temper.

Nicole retorts, "I'm just saying. If I wasn't staying at Ultima full-time, I would never have come back! I'd have escaped the program."

"It's not possible!" I say.

"Why not?"

"Because the bracelet wouldn't let me!" I lift my arm and show her the bracelet as if it might convince her.

"Oh, nonsense! Your doctor is just trying to scare you. Those bracelets probably don't even work. It's like using a fake gun; it would probably get you just as scared as a real one. It's all in your head, Alina."

"It's not!" I reply. "The bracelet is not fake—trust me, I know!"

"Right! Sure you do!"

"The bracelet sure worked yesterday, when it released chemicals that knocked me out completely! So please don't tell me it doesn't work when you don't know what you're talking about!"

"Are you serious?" Nicole asks in shock. "What the hell did you do? What rule did you break?"

"I stole some access cards, and was trying to enter floors that I wasn't supposed to be on."

"Why would you do that?" Nicole asks.

"Because I was trying to save you!" I shout right into her face.

"What?"

"I was trying to find you. I got so close, but then I was knocked out when they discovered me. I was interrogated by Dr. Kismen, who told me she would have to keep me at Ultima unless I told her what was I looking for."

"Did you?" Nicole asks, terrified.

"I did. If I didn't tell her, then the trust fund for my brother would have been taken away, and I would've gotten locked up at Ultima."

Nicole changes in the face, it seems her world just crashed.

"This is a disaster," Nicole says, shaking her head. "They will fix the glitch soon, and I will never see Sophie again. I can't believe you did this."

"Yeah, you are welcome!" I say sarcastically. "I just wanted to help!"

"No, no, sorry Alina. I know you did! You had no choice.

"Dr. Kismen promised she would not interfere with anything," I offer, trying to reassure Nicole.

"And you believe her?" Nicole raises her eyebrow in doubt.

"Yes," I say. "Look, we are here now, aren't we? All four of us together."

"That is true, but I have no doubt that in a few days we will not be together. Unless—"

"Unless?"

"Unless I try to escape! I know you tried to save me, but I think I have a better chance doing it on my own." Nicole puts her hands together as if she just found the best decision for us all.

"Escape? But that's impossible! You said you are under surveillance 24/7!"

"I will figure something out. I will escape, and then continue living my life. Sophie will get better, and maybe I will be lucky enough to see her in reality."

"That's if I don't change my mind and stay with the Conversion. Who knows maybe I can break this bracelet," I say cryptically.

"What do you mean?"

"Well, we've only assumed that Sophie is my receiver, but we don't know for sure, do we?" I instantly regret starting down this road.

"I don't understand," Nicole says, looking up at me. "You think it might be someone else? You are right! It could be anyone, and we need to find out who. I will ask my doctor! I will make up an excuse, and my doctor will tell me—we get along pretty well! She will tell me, and as soon I know, I will make my escape!" She begins to walk away from me.

"Where are you going?" I run after her.

"I just want to give Sophie a hug! Maybe talk to Gabriel, possibly he might know something?"

I can't hide the truth from Nicole, it's cruel. I have to kill her faith and hope.

"Nicole, listen to me." I take her hand, and haul her to the bench "We need to talk."

"What is it?" she says, wiping the tears from her face.

"Don't talk to Gabriel," I say firmly.

"Why not?" she asks.

"Because he doesn't know anything."I gather the strength, to be honest with her. "I know who's life Sophie is receiving."

"You do? Well who is it?" she asks with a mix of relief and terror. "Is it you?"

"No, Nicole. It's not me...It's you."

Something flashed beneath the surface of her hardened expression. I wonder what she's feeling right now. She's trying very hard to push the words out, but can't. Her desperately try to hold onto hope, like reaching for an escaped balloon—the string dangling so tantalizingly close but the wind pushes it away, and it's lost forever. The reality is starting to sink in. I can see the sadness beginning to wash over her.

She finally breaks the silence.

"My head hurts," she says. She rubs her temples and closes her eyes—her mouth lets out a heavy sigh. I gently put my hand on her leg.

"I just feel sad, Alina," she says in a whisper. "I'm all right, I guess. Just—sad." She takes a deep breath.

"I understand."I keep my one hand on her leg and put the other around her back. She rests her head on my shoulder.

"Talk to me," I say.

"My sadness...it feels like death by a thousand paper cuts. It's always felt like that. I managed somehow to leave the sadness behind this past week—I mean, Sophie really helped. Now my sadness is back, paper cuts, every time I remember my loss. And now after you told me everything, it's just another cut to my already damaged mind. But it's OK. It's easier this way in the end. I don't have to fight anymore—I can finally just accept The Conversion. No point trying to take a gasp of air before death."

"I'm sorry," I say as I look into her sad eyes.

"It's all right Alina," she nods. "I—" She stops. "Sorry, it's so hard to explain what I'm feeling."

"Take your time."

"Now that the initial shock has worn off, I'm actually happy to give my life to Sophie." Her eyes fill up with tears yet again as she drifts her gaze onto Sophie and Gabriel. "I'm at peace." She wipes her tears, and we sit silently, thinking.

"So how do you know for sure that Sophie is my Receiver?" Nicole asks finally.

"Because I went to Novus. I saw her and Gabriel."

"How did you get in there?" Nicole asks.

"Dr. Kismen—my doctor—she snuck me in," I explain. "She also told me about Sophie."

"Maybe, she lied to you,"

"She has no reason to lie." I take a deep breath "I can trust her."

"Really?"

"Really. She let me go even though I broke the rules. She showed me the Novus center; she explained everything."

"I guess that makes sense," Nicole agrees. "I'm sure you wanted to know who's receiving your life, then, huh?"

"Actually, I didn't want to know that. But I was forced to find out."

"Gabriel?"

"Yeah," I admit.

This time it's Nicole who comforts me by hugging me tightly. She has no idea that my bracelet has been deactivated—that I can run away at any time. I can still change my mind if I want to. If I tell her, she will insist that I should run away and save myself, but I want to make my own choice.

"Are you going to tell him?" she asks.

"Not yet," I reply.

"When then?" Nicole persists. "There's not a lot of time left."

"I haven't decided yet," I say honestly.

"Your doctor seems to be a good individual. But I admit I'm curious why she's helping you so much. What's in it for her?"

"I actually don't really know. The only think I can think of is because she lost someone she really loved to suicide." I look up at the sky.

"She did?" Nicole asks, surprised.

"Yes, she told me. And I think that to this day she feels really guilty about the loss, so it's possible she's trying to absolve herself in some way by helping—I don't know," I shrug.

"I imagine Gabriel will be devastated when he learns the truth," Nicole says as we see him and Sophie approaching.

I can't think about that right now; I don't want to know the consequences of my actions just yet. All I want is be with Gabriel.

"Nicole, Nicole!" Sophie yells, "Gabriel is going to take me to the aquarium and show me dolphins and sharks—big sharks! And then also—" Sophie can't seem to catch her breath what with all the excitement. "Also there are other fishes that I can see! I want to go!" Sophie jumps onto Nicole's knees and puts her hands around her neck.

"Yes, sweetheart!" Nicole holds Sophie tight. "Let's go to the aquarium, and I will show you all the animals of the underwater world."

Sophie wiggles out off Nicole's arms and jumps on the ground."Let's go now! I want to see dolphins!" Sophie tugs Nicole's hand. Nicole reluctantly gets off the bench and says to Gabriel, "I will take Sophie to the aquarium. I think you and Alina have a lot to talk about." She looks back at me, and Gabriel takes his place next to me.

"So?" he asks.

"So?" I say, squeezing my lips together and licking them anxiously.

"I guess no point to me asking what you were guys talking about, right? You are not going to tell me anyway. Am I right? Oh, wait a second! I know the answer: girl's stuff!" Gabriel smiles as he gently mocks me, impersonating my voice.

"Shut up," I say with a smile. "I don't sound like that."

"Yes, you do!"

"Whatever," I say as I cross my arms.

"When are you going to trust me already?" he asks. I catch his loving gaze from the corner of my eye.

"What are you talking about? Of course, I trust you. You were the first person I ever told about what happened to me when I was 14."

"And I appreciate that."

"Then what else do you need to know?"

"Ugh. Alina, I want to know more about you! I want to know why are you receiving a new life! Who are your parents? What are you and Nicole always so secretive about?"

My head is spinning—how much longer will I be able to avoid his questions? I stand up and walk along the harbor; Gabriel follows. I guess it's now or never.

"Gabriel," I say, turning to him, "I just need time. I will tell you everything very soon. You are such a good friend, and I've never had friends, so you need to understand that opening up is really difficult for me."

"Great, so now I'm in the friend zone?"

"That's the only thing you got from what I just said?"

"It's important, no?"

Gabriel puts his arm around my waist.

"I guess," I say, rolling my eyes.

"Hey, don't roll your eyes so much—they might get stuck at the back of your head" Gabriel laughs. "I don't want to be just a friend." He draws me in and leans in to kiss me.

"You are not just a friend." I move my face to meet his, but he playfully bends backward and stops me from kissing him.

"I'm not?" He raises his eyebrows, and it makes me laugh.

"No!"

He strokes my hair delicately and pulls it back.

"You are so pretty," he whispers as he kisses my cheek. I blush from the compliment. Kind, wonderful words can transform a person.

"I think I really need you," Gabriel says and holds me tight

"I need you too," I whisper in his ear.

"I can't wait to see you in a real world."

"Me too," I say so quietly, he doesn't hear it.

I indulge in his embrace. I don't want to think about my brief future—only 12 days left to live.

But, does it need to be the end of me?

