There now exists a world where the colour of your blood defines you; and there certainly isn't much room for different in the year 2138.
Suki Kione has known for a long time now that there's a clock on her life, one that runs a lot quicker than that...
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I've envisioned seeing my sister again so many times. Each time there's a small factor in that encounter that changes, but it all ends the same: tears, smiles and laughter. This is nothing like that. She still looks the same. She's hardly changed, there are only slight differences.
Her body is leaner than I remember it. At first glance I'd say it's been toned by years of training and exercise. Her eyes are underlined by black smudges and her lips puckered by nude, matte lipstick. She's beautiful as ever, but last I remember she hated makeup. I was always the one with the slightest interest in that kind of stuff.
No matter, I can deal with that.
What kills me is what happens when I move forward and pull myself away from the crowd. I know she sees me, but it's also clear that she doesn't. Tears almost fill my eyes as fast as my heart is beating right now when I realise that there's no recognition there. She looks at me like I am a stranger.
"There was a very specific reason why you were not to board this craft Fay," Stitch says, her voice lower than low.
She glances between Aspen and I, causing my dear sister to spare me another look.
"Am I missing something here?" she queries.
In that moment I want to yell. I want to launch my hands onto her shoulders and throttle her, beg her to look at me again and see me for what I am. Who I am, but I don't. I hold myself back. Instead, Aspen (Fay?) looks over my head and only then does her gaze widen with recognition.
"Oh great, Wes is here," she grumbles.
I watch him shrug a shoulder, brushing a hand behind his neck.
"Babe, I'm sorry," he begins and my heart sinks so low it cracks a hole through the jet floors.
"Oh boohoo tell that to someone who hasn't heard five-hundred of your apologies. If you meant what you said to me that night before you were taken away, you would have told me the truth instead of expecting me to immediately run out on you. Has nothing I've said to you made a fraction of a difference in what you think of me?" she asks, sounding hurt.
All I want to do is run, hide and pretend this day isn't happening. My sister isn't dating my bully ... there's just no way. Not after everything he's put me through, all he's said to me. All the promises he's made to hurt me ... some of which he's fulfilled.
I'm standing in the jet, watching all of this happen, but in my mind I'm twelve again. I'm locked in a room with Wes and he's standing really close to me. He's brushing my arm, he's breathing the same air as me, he's telling me that he's always thought I was pretty, but could never say it to my face.
I push him back harder than I mean to and his head knocks into a shelve. He stares at me with wide, gaping holes of bottomless shock. He's embarrassed now. I want to apologise, but all I can think of is where his hand was going to go from my hips. Every school day after that is filled with us. Him telling me just how ugly I am. That I can never be loved. Me telling him just how wrong he is, that he'll never be able to control me, he'll never swallow my world just because of his embarrassment.
