I walked slowly towards my history class, trying to think up some excuse to tell Cecelia about the day before. I hadn’t seen her since yesterday when I brought her in. Would she be angry? I didn’t even know what they had talked to her about.
I walked into the history classroom and scanned all the faces for Cecelia’s, even though I knew she was always late to class. But then, surprisingly, I saw her at the back of the room. She was hardly recognizable without her signature, edgy black jacket and boots that had been replaced with some plain jeans and a white T-shirt. When I took another glance at her I noticed the bright pink stripes that had once littered her hair were gone, replaced with her natural dirty-blonde hair.
I walked to the back of the room and approached her. “Um ... hi Cecelia,” I said timidly.
She looked up at me. “Good morning, Drew,” she said with a smile that was very unlike the Cecelia I had known.
“So,” I said, sitting down at the desk beside hers. “What did they talk to you about yesterday?”
She looked confused. “Yesterday?”
“Yeah,when you came to my um ... house.” My skin tingled, sending chills through my body. Something was wrong.
She still stared at me like she didn't understand what I was talking about and I was starting to get a little freaked out. What was wrong with her? She looked completely different—and acted like it, too.
“Well, how was your piano lesson?” I asked, trying a different approach.
She still looked confused. “Piano?”
“Yeah,” I said, now officially concerned. “You really like it.”
“Oh ...” she said vaguely. “Then I must’ve stopped or something. ‘Cause I don’t play piano.” She looked at me blankly, her hazel eyes expressionless.
“Cecelia,” I said firmly, shaking her a little by her shoulders. “What’s wrong? Snap out of it.” I heard my voice rise a little.
She didn’t do anything, just sat there staring at ... nothing. I let go of her and watched her face the front of the room again. I noticed other people in the class give her strange looks once they realized it was actually Cecelia and not some new kid in the class.
Eventually I turned away from her and tried to focus on the lesson. But how could I? What had happened to Cecelia? What had they done to her?
Throughout the day, more and more people noticed the strange change in Cecelia. Her friends seemed even more freaked out than I was, and all Cecelia seemed to do was go through the motions. She didn’t seem to be living at all. Even Jessica had noticed and told me about it, but I brushed the subject away, not wanting to think that what had happened to Cecelia was my fault.
Later, as I walked outside towards the van after school, I heard footsteps approaching quickly behind me. I turned to see Caroline and smiled at her. “Hi,” I said.
“Have you seen Cecelia?” she asked me, her blue eyes sparkling with the excitement of some good gossip.
I nodded. “Yep.”
“I don’t know what’s wrong with her,” she said, drawing out the subject in hopes of some information or at least a good talk.
I shrugged, not wanting to discuss it.
Caroline frowned, and seeing I wasn’t at all into the subject, changed the topic. “Well, anyway, what I wanted to talk to you about is the history assignment. I forgot when it’s due.”
“Thursday, I think.”
Suddenly, I noticed someone walking towards us from the van. As he got closer, I recognized the gangly arms and unsteady gate as Jeremy’s, one of the androids from the Institution. He was walking very fast and soon I saw him break into a run. He had a determined look on his face and didn’t show any signs of slowing down, even when he was just a few feet from us. “Hey Jeremy,” I called, confused about why he was here and slightly concerned.
But he didn’t look at me. He didn’t even glance my way. He was looking at Caroline. I saw her expression turn to one of concern, but before I could even think about what was going on, Jeremy had shoved Caroline to the ground.
“Jeremy!” I cried. “What are you doing?”
Just then I saw him pull something from under his belt and my heart almost stopped, the blood chilling in my veins—a knife. Caroline screamed and tried to scramble out of the way. What was Jeremy doing with a knife?
“Jeremy!” I shrieked and launched myself between him and Caroline. I felt the knife slice through my skin like butter, stinging, and saw Jeremy step back in confusion. Blood trickled down my arm, slow and warm. “What are you doing?!” I screamed, but again I saw him lunge at Caroline, this time watching in horror as the knife plunged into the pit of her stomach.