Fault [on hold]

Prologue

A shrill scream escapes my lips as I wake up, searching for Aline. I open my eyes, breathing deeply. She’s alright, I repeat to myself. It’s not real. Calm down. “Where are you, Aline?” I murmur. My hands come in contact with the light switch as I push it. I narrow my eyes, blinded by the bright illumination.

    Then it sinks in as it always does as I stare at the empty bed in front of me.

    Aline is not alive.

    The dream is not a nightmare, but a flashback.

    I wipe a trickling bead of sweat on my forehead, suppressing the salty tears that threaten to fall. Unlike my earlier shriek, I manage to control them. I hear Reagan slam her door shut across the hallway, irritated with my constant outbursts. An earsplitting sound echoes around the house, ceasing after a few seconds. I can’t blame her.

    There is no point in trying to sleep again, because I know that I will dream of her death repeatedly. I kick my blankets off my legs, shivering at the cold temperature. I urge myself to walk to the bathroom, my steps slow from fatigue. I turn on the tap water, cleansing my face.

    When I glance at the mirror in front of me, I stifle a gasp. Dark circles are evident under my eyes, contrasting with my pale skin. My eyes are bloodshot and puffy from crying, and my hair is greasy. I run my hand through my brown tresses. It will nearly be impossible to untangle them. No wonder others have been avoiding me. The sole thing I’ve been doing for months is mourning over Aline’s death.

    Maybe, it’s finally time for me to forget about Aline, the insurgents, and begin a new life. Try to fit in. Try to make new friends and achieve higher grades.

    But don’t try harder for perfection.

         *          *

    “Has the medicine been working?” Scarlett, my therapist asks. She is pleasantly surprised that I have turned up with a neat attire, flushed cheeks, and combed hair. It has been three weeks since I decided that I need a change. I have only changed my appearance, but now, she assumes that the drugs are working. That I am slowly returning to my old life. She is partially correct.

    I force a smile onto my lips, reminding myself to rehearse the speech I have prepared for the session. The more she believes in the fact that I’m healing quickly, the faster I will be able to stop attending these unhelpful meetings. I am improving - but slowly. I do not need Scarlett. However, I need time to adjust to my change.

    “Yes,” I add a huge grin for maximum effect. “It’s refreshing how I can now sleep without worrying about dreaming of...” I silence on purpose, making my reaction look realistic. Scarlett’s eyes suddenly gleam with sympathy.

    She seems elated by my response, no matter how much she tries to hide it. “You’ll be even better after the surgery.” Scarlett reassures, making enthusiastic hand gestures. “It helps you cope with all of your bad memories and fears.”

    I stiffen at her words, biting down on my lower lip. There are seven days left until my birthday. Until the procedure. Bile rises in my throat. I can’t do it. I can endeavor to leave the past behind, but I can’t bear the thought of letting scientists tweak my brain and features, to morph me into some perfect creature. Especially when Aline perished while rebelling against it.

    “Erica?” I break out of my reverie at the sound of my name, blinking. Scarlett frowns, her eyes filled with worry. I have to admit that I am taken aback by her concern. I have now been her patient for nearly six months. Even though the two of us aren’t very close, there is a small bond between us.

    It’s me who ignores it. It’s me who decides not to acknowledge it, because I’m afraid of losing someone again. Her anxiety causes a warm feeling in my chest as I gulp. She’s a true believer of the way America operates, but it’s nice to know that a person cares, at least a little bit, about me when even my parents and sibling don’t.

    “Sorry, I’m a bit tired.” I lie smoothly, scratching the side of my head. I detect no trace of mistrust in Scarlett’s eyes as she nods in understanding. Compared to other therapists, she doesn’t try to pry into my life. She respects my privacy, but sometimes, I can’t help but be suspicious. It is as if she already knows everything about me, and doesn’t need to ask any questions.

    “Your sophomore year must be wearing you down.” Scarlett licks her lips. “Have a nice day, Erica.”

    “The session is over?” I fail to keep the surprise out of my voice. “It hasn’t even been ten minutes since we -”

    “You’re still showing a lot of progress after all those weeks of grieving,” Scarlett interrupts. I wince at her words. I’m sure that she wasn’t directing anger towards me, but I feel a pang of guilt. It must have been extremely hard to deal with an emotionless robot like me. I do not know what caused a change in me, but I want to stop shedding tears over Aline’s death and move on. “That’s enough for me.” She grins. “Don’t forget to get your medicine from Lily.”

    I smile widely, and this time, it isn’t fake.