In a Haze - Jade C. Jamison Page 0,2

hair.

It’s then that I realize it’s short—my hair—like the woman I’m standing next to, and I also think mine should be much, much longer.

“Bobbi, back off.”

“I was just saying good morning to my favorite friend.”

“I said back off, Sanders. You want detention?”

“No.” As she scowls, she at least stops leaning over me, but she otherwise stays where she is. I shut off the faucet and walk across the tiles. At one point, the bottom of my foot digs into the round drain in the middle, but I keep taking small steps until I get to the bench where Rose has already set a towel and fresh clothing.

No underwear.

I think I miss underwear, but I don’t know that for sure. I dry off quickly, wrapping the towel around my head, and then put on the shirt and sweats, struggling as my damp skin refuses to let them slide on. And we move through my morning routine as other people come and go throughout the space. I brush my teeth and comb out my hair while Rose stands nearby, and it’s then that I consider she might be an ally of some sort. Maybe not an ally so much as a neutral party, someone perhaps looking out for my best interests.

As I wash my face, I pause. It’s familiar, this visage looking back at me, but also foreign. I’d expected something a little different. My face looks so plain. My skin is pale, and the deep emerald of my eyes contrasts with it. My hair, light brown, should be longer, but it’s as short as that person Bobbi’s was, almost like a crew cut. And there are lines in the corners of my eyes that shouldn’t be there.

How long have I been here?

And, if I were to leave, where would I go?

Soon, we’ve shuffled to the dining hall and it’s then that I tell myself I have some of my strength back. How do I know that?

What the hell does that mean?

And why, when I see the man with dark blond hair and royal blue eyes, does my heart start pumping like it never has before? I’d swear, even without remembering anything else, that he is the most gorgeous man I have ever seen. When he begins walking toward me, my heart starts thudding so hard I can hear it in my ears. As he gets within a few feet of me, my breath catches in my throat and my knees grow weak.

Whether that is from fear or desire, I don’t know. I have no context.

2

The man is marching across the room toward me. I look around and behind me and, suddenly, Rose is nowhere to be seen. My savior has left me in my biggest moment of need.

But as he gets closer, I think he seems like he has a friendly face. The way he’s smiling at me—kind and happy, not vulturous and depraved like that woman named Bobbi—helps me let go of the breath I’ve been holding in.

“Anna, something looks different about you today.” I cock my head. I’m going to have to take his word for it. “Do I know the reason?”

I have no idea whatsoever what he might be talking about. Someone behind me says, “No cutting, Dublin.”

“Yeah, get t’ the back of the line, man!”

He’s trying to tell me something with his eyes, but he doesn’t realize I don’t know him from Adam. I would love to get to know him, but the timing’s off, and whatever he’s trying to say is lost on me. With a frown, he shrugs and goes away.

Whatever they’re cooking in here smells good. There’s a scent of sausage and maple syrup, and I can’t remember if I like those things or not. My nose definitely does.

I glance around the room. It’s noisy but bright. If there were windows in here, it might even be cheerful. The buffet line makes me think of a university cafeteria while the brown café tables with comfy looking green dining room chairs feel like the continental breakfast area of a middle-class hotel.

How the hell do I know all this stuff? And why does that all come to mind easily while everything else in my head is covered in cobwebs? It’s disconcerting, making me feel like I’m in a strange movie. All of a sudden, when I hear someone yelling, I turn around to see a woman sitting at one of the tables all by herself. She keeps shouting, “No! No!” over and over, covering her ears