Jennifer Two

THIRTY-TWO.

Since my interview with Vivian Wilson, things got even more intense. What turned into curious interest morphed into a monster of its own; my parents receive death threats on the daily. I wish I could say I feel for them, but I'm the one dying here, aren't I (even if it is a bit of an exaggeration as there's no signs of peril in the near future)? Of course, I fear for their safety, and I guess I really didn't do good by throwing them under the bus the way I did, but it relieves me knowing that I won't have to deal with the turmoil in my mind and the hostility in the house anymore.

Kal has also been blowing up my phone. The second I got back to my parents' house after the interview, I had a million missed calls from him. It annoys me that he lives too far to make easy trips to my home, and the only way we can communicate is through other means, but it doesn't help that I sort of snub him. I just can't face to hear his broken heart over the phone. Not yet, anyway.

I sent him an email, telling him that I am perfectly fine, and that I would be in the belly of Arkansas for the week so there is no point in coming to visit or call me (I don't know if the phone service or Wi-Fi is at its best over at the ranch), but that we can talk once I get back home. I just need space to breathe.

I haven't told my parents that I'm going, when I start packing for the flight at four in the morning. I throw as many things as I can into my suitcase, aiming to be as quiet as I can. This is the second time I've tried to secretly escape them. Like I did before, I will leave them a note so that they are not alarmed. Shelly knows I'll be arriving in secret, and the second I called for her aid, she was instantly ready to help me out.

I can't wait to find a place to clear my thoughts out, and figure out how I will spend the rest of my flickering, withering life.

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Aunt Shelly's ranch really is right in the middle of nowhere – it seemed like it took forever once we got on the road. News had gotten around quickly that I was on a trip to Arkansas, and sort of unsurprisingly, a dozen camera men arrived at the airport. What's so astonishing about a human being moving through transit? I'm not doing anything – I've never done anything. But my last public appearance was the interview, and it's no wonder people are fighting for my attention yet again.

Do you really have heart failure? Anne, how is your condition currently? What are your plans for the future? Do you think this is a result of being cloned?

Strangers with cameras were swinging questions at me from every angle, and I just kept silent, kept my shades on and moved along with my suitcase, following my aunt. I didn't want to look out of breath, but surely enough, I was starting to feel it. It's what living twice does to you.

Aunt Shelly shielded me from the camera flashes as we threw my stuff into her car, before getting in and speeding out of the godforsaken place.

And now, at some time in the afternoon, I sit on the front porch of her house, staring out at the lazy, quiet scenery. It's nice to know that I have some place to really sit and think. All I can hear is the sound of nature - the low hum of the earth, under the tweets and the chirps. I watch birds flock the sky, with the sun on their backs as they pass through the daylight. Though it's July, it's not a particularly hot day, and in fact, I'm shivering a little. I just sit in silence and stare off into the distance until my eyesight blurs.

Shelly cooks a pot roast for dinner, with fresh vegetables from the local farmer. It's been a while since food wowed me, but boy, does this taste damn good. The flavour just melts in my mouth, tenderly. I look up to Shelly, signalling my approval of the food.

"I'm glad you like it," she smiles. "Though I'm not surprised. I'm pretty sure I make the best pot roasts in all o' Arkansas!" Though my mother originates from here, her accent has weakened over the years, living in Cali. It's almost nice to hear such a strong southern pronunciation of words like that. It makes her feel more welcoming, in a way.