She felt sick.

Hunter ran to the nearest washroom and locked herself in the farthest stall. Leaning against the door, she stared at the ceiling, trying not to throw up.

“Remember.” She told herself. It was such a foreign feeling, wracking her brain for something she couldn’t find. “Remember.”

She was grateful that mental abilities take a few months to develop, so she didn’t remember her own birth. Instead, her earliest memory was waking up in a crib with her brother poking her through the bars. He’d been four, and considering if he could get away with erasing their parents memories of her so he could be an only child again.

“How times have changed.” Hunter mumbled to herself. Now, Thomas seemed to want her around him all the time.

She fast-forwarded through her memories until she was five. That would be the year Thomas first broke into the farm. She relived herself at swimming lessons, soccer tryouts, and her first day of school.

She’d only been in kindergarten for two days before she was moved to the first grade. Then, a week later, she’d been moved to the second, then the third. When the school tried to bump her up to the fourth grade, Thomas had protested.

“She’s not smart!” he’s complained. “She just remembers everything!”

She’d been tested, which was really a series of interviews, and had been labelled with her ability. She’d then been moved back down to the first grade, per her request.

Then there was nothing.

Hunter tried to remember the next day, but she couldn’t. It had been late September. She knew that. But the next memory she had was in March. She was missing six months.

Thomas had taken her memories. Their parents had moved them.

A knock on the stall door brought her back to the present. She looked down and saw a paper crane flitting around her ankles.

“Hunter?” Tristan’s voice came from the other side of the door. “Are you okay?”

“What happened?” Hunter asked. “I’m missing six months from when I was five.” When she got no response, she continued. “I know you from then, don’t I?”

“Hunter, you…” Tristan sighed. “You don’t have to remember.”

Hunter opened the door so hard, it smacked the wall beside her. “That’s who I am!” she yelled. “I remember things. The good, the bad, everything without bias!”

She stepped toward the other girl, but stopped when she heard a light crunch and saw Tristan’s eyes grow wide with horror. She looked down and lifted her foot, revealing the little crane that had found her.

It’s faded design now covered in dirt.

“I was there.” She whispered to herself. “I was your roommate.”

“You protected me.” Tristan sniffled, tears forming in her eyes. “You remembered who was nice and who was a bully. You always put yourself between me and the government men.”

“So why don’t I remember?” Hunter gingerly picked up the crushed crane. “And why do you?”

“Thomas…” Tristan rubbed her eyes. “Your brother didn’t want you to.”

“Why?”

“I shouldn’t tell you.”

“WHY?!”

Hunter’s shout echoed around them. Tristan’s tears poured down her cheeks.

“Because you couldn’t forget.” She sobbed. “Every night, you would scream. Every time someone opened a door, you hid. You couldn’t recover. You were--”

“Broken.” Hunter finished. I’d lost control.