"Your name is Nova Carlson."

"Your sixteen years of age."

"You live alone with your sister Olivia who is also your legal guardian."

I tapped my foot nervously on the white tiled floor.

"You have no history of any major diseases...nothing bad...had surgery for your wisdom teeth..."

There was a ruffling of papers.

"Few problems overall. Perfect vision and hearing..."

The tapping of my foot stopped as the doctor placed the clipboard with all my information and papers on it back on his desk next to the laptop. He turned his face back towards me and by his expression, the small crease between his eyebrows with eyes screaming of his faked concern for me, I could tell exactly what he was going to say next. I'd heard the words in different ways millions of times, nearly every time I went to the doctor's for whatever reason. Even though me and Olivia had been living alone, it hadn't prevented us from being able to seek medical treatment with the help of the same family next door who'd provided us with food and had claimed that we were adopted whenever asked about it during an appointment. And in the beginning there'd been a lot of appointments. All about the same thing.

"I heard your parents were killed...," he began talking, in a way that made it sound as though he were trying to step across a field of Legos without getting hurt. He clasped his hands together in front of him, staring at me intently behind his large rectangular glasses, probably judging any reaction so he could write down every last thing he noticed.

"Yes," I replied, not elaborating on what had occurred during the time. I didn't want to think about it again. The doctors had always wanted me to, told me that talking about my feelings and what had happened would help me. It never did. All it ended up doing was force me to relive the pain I'd felt when it'd happened.

"Did this...change your opinions in anyway?" I saw the doctor glance down at my exposed wrist with its eternally typing thoughts that scrolled by.

"I was sad," I replied vaguely.

"That's understandable...but did it...make you unstable? Is there anything you'd done that you regretted?"

Yes.

"No."

I winced, realizing my 'yes' from my thoughts had gone through. The doctor stared down at my wrist and began scribbling down notes on a sheet of paper.

Ignoring my lie, he continued. "What kinds of regrets are you referring to?"

I didn't respond. My mind raced, searching for something to latch on to so that I could avoid the question as much as possible. I forced myself to avoid thinking of it. Of it.

"I...I regretted not being able to say goodbye." The words flowed out unexpectedly, and luckily my thoughts matched. I'd barely avoided being forced to say the one thing I couldn't.

My face and tone must've been convincing enough to persuade the doctor to let it go.

"And your sister...was she okay after this?"

Now my mind was going through memories like files, thinking back to right after it happened, to seeing my sister's face. Tears had streaked her cheeks, eyes red. She'd wrapped her arms around me, and hadn't let go. Not once. More for the comfort of herself than me. And then, she'd disappeared. Not literally, but mentally. For weeks, she'd stayed in her room. She hadn't come out, even when the doorbell had rung and the neighboring family had offered assistance. She only ever appeared for mealtimes, and sometimes she would even evade those.

It took her a while to get back to something that possibly resembled how she was before.

My thoughts had all unintentionally appeared on the screen and I now noticed how the doctor was furiously writing with his pen while staring at my wrist. Privacy didn't matter to him apparently.

After the scratching noise of pen on paper subsided, the doctor looked up at me once more, all emotion out of his face like he'd only been showing concern until he'd received the answers he'd wanted.

"Thank you...that's all that will be necessary for this inspection. The nurse will take you back to the cafeteria."

I stood up from the bland metal doctor's office chair, slightly happy that it had been short, and had only consisted of a couple questions. Even though the questions asked weren't ones I'd wanted to answer.

A nurse with black hair stood outside the door and led me through multiple hallways, even though I already knew my way back, until she stopped outside the gray metal door of the cafeteria, and allowed me to walk in.

White fluorescent lights dotted the ceiling and brightly shined down on me as I made my way over to where Zander and Pepper were sitting. They were laughing at something together, forks left forgotten on dingy metal trays.

I sat down next to Pepper not bothering to stand up and get dinner. I wasn't really that hungry after being asked to bring memories to the forefront of my mind. Now that I had, they wouldn't go away.

I closed my eyes, and the memories only became worse, sharper and in clearer focus. Except they were no longer about my parents...they were about something else entirely.

What the doctor would call my regrets.

"Hey, how was it?" Pepper asked, grinning at me when I opened my eyes to see her.

"Good." I forced a smile, not wanting either of them to worry about their own upcoming inspections.

"So," she said standing up from her chair which squeaked as she pushed it back. "Guess it's my turn...right?" She seemed uncertain, and I knew my attempt at making it more appealing hadn't really worked. She walked away, metal tray in hand, ready to be taken by the same black haired nurse to have her own inspection.

"What happened?" Zander asked when Pepper was out of earshot. My forced attempt at showing happiness hadn't tricked him. He knew me enough to be able to tell when I was faking, which was a disadvantage for Pepper.

I sucked in a breath, wondering how to say it and what to say. I'd never been really fond on giving away too much about myself, since I knew it could always be used against me.

But I didn't need to speak for Zander to understand. He knew what had happened with my family, and easily put two and two together.

"He asked about...them?" Concern showed on his face. Not the fake concern of the doctor who only wanted to get answers and didn't care how it would affect me emotionally. Real concern. Something I rarely saw from anyone besides Olivia.

I nodded, not even realizing my throat was constricting as he said it. I quickly swallowed, shoving the pain away. There was no reason for it to be here again. Because I didn't want to feel it. I didn't want to feel that pain ever again. Suddenly, a quote appeared in my head, one that I remembered seeing somewhere, that had stuck with me.

Nothing can hurt you unless you allow it to.

I wasn't going to allow it to hurt me. Not now. Not ever.

Zander sensed my shift in mood and decided to change topics. I was extremely glad for it.

"Did your team win?" He shoved his fork through a piece of disgusting looking chicken as he asked.

"Yup."

"So no work for you?"

"Nope."

"Oh." He looked down at his plate, and the guilt in his expression lead me to believe the must have won his own game. Otherwise I doubted he would feel bad about us both having to do extra work.

"As long as it doesn't include cleaning toilets...," I joked, trying to lighten the mood.

He raised an eyebrow. "You mean...you don't want to clean toilets?" he said in mock surprise.

"Sadly...no."

When dinner was finished and everyone had gone through their initial inspections, the speakers announced that room assignments would be posted outside the cafeteria, leading to a mass of students shoving each other to see their own assignments and try figuring out if they would be in the same room as their friends.

When I was finally able to see the board, I found my name under the column for room A598.

And after comparing with both Pepper and Zander I realized I was in a room with neither of them.

I was forced to leave them behind in the hallway and follow a couple other students with my same room assignment to the room.

Walking in, the desks shoved to the side and replaced with sleeping bags immediately caught my attention. Other people were already there, taking pillows which were lined up in the front of the room and organizing their beds. Also in the front of the room sat a box filled with pajamas, each neatly packaged and including identical comfy-looking navy blue pants and long-sleeved shirts.

I walked into the room and found an unoccupied bed and dropped the two pillows I'd scavenged from the front of the room on it. I unzipped one side of the sleeping bag and shoved both in it, then went back up to grab one of the pairs of pajamas. The pants looked extremely comfortable, but I almost didn't want to wear the identical pajamas which would make me look just like everyone else and for some reason that bothered me. Plus, the shirt I was wearing at the moment was pretty comfortable, even though it was slightly dirty from the game of Capture the Flag.

I decided to keep my shirt and then change my pants for the night. It took me a moment to struggle past the crowd of people in the hallway and get in the bathroom, where it was only more crowded. But soon I was safely in a stall and able to change my pants.

When I got back in the room, my eyes fell upon the figure who was laying down in the sleeping bag next to mine. It was the black haired guy with the silver nose ring and light blue eyes from before. He had done the same thing that I had, with the same shirt from the day, but pajama pants. Looking around the room I noticed a couple other people had also decided on the same arrangement.

I made my way across the laid out rectangular sleeping bags, careful not to step on anyone or anything, then slid into the warm cotton interior of my own. My body relaxed once inside, shoulders releasing their tension, hands letting go, feet tingling in warm pleasure.

Without really meaning to, I fell asleep before I could even think of anything else.