//////////////////

The people in the car said these were my parents.

They can't be. There's a plethora of reasons why they can't be. For starters, they both have brown eyes.

My eyes are blue.

But the woman– Mom, I guess– steps forward, arms open wide, trying to ensnare me into a hug.

I flinch away.

I can see it in her eyes; the hurt that this has caused, the confusion and even anger.

The man folds his arms, and takes a step closer to the agents standing behind me. "Is this the right kid?" His voice is gruff, as if made of sandpaper.

He sounds like a dad.

Just not my dad.

But the agent just nods, lifting an NPad, streams of DNA curving across the screen.

The data doesn't lie.

But my memories shouldn't either.

I slip away from the the woman, circling to the back of the car, standing by Agent Colar, tugging on the sleeve of her suit.

She looks down, and for a brief instant, I see sorrow glimmer in her eyes. But then it is gone.

"I want to go home," I whisper, trying to tuck myself closer to her. "I want to go back to Jessie and Arson and Mikael."

But instead of softening, her eyes widen, and she steps away, practically shaking me off of her.

I stumble, then stare back with hurt in my eyes. "Wha–"

She shakes her head. "Stop, Stephanie. You can't go back."

But her voice is guarded.

She doesn't trust me.

The woman is at my side again, wrapping her arms around me again, and this time, I let her.

I'm tired of fighting, of trying. Yet it is still only the morning.

I want to go home.

I don't want to stay with these strangers, with their flat brown hair and brown eyes.

I want to go back to the only place I've ever known.

Home.

////////////

"What was it like?" The woman asks, holding a cup of coffee with trembling hands. Her name is Jolene. She wants me to call her "Mom" but we both know that wont be happening soon.

The man–Christopher– leans back in his chair. "Jo, she won't remember. No one is supposed to remember the facility."

I blink, startled. "I'm not?" This was new information to me.

I never thought I would lose the memories of my life.

Jolene sits forward. "What do you remember?" She reminds me of a dog. Excitable and hyper.

So unlike me.*

I put down the cup of milk they gave me. "Evenything was bright when I was younger. Soft, padded, lots of red and yellows.

"As we got older, I got moved to a different place, and we started losing colors. I think that's when they introduced the color green."

I shook my head. "I was six. That's when I first learned about the color green."

Christopher sipped his own coffee. "What do you think of green?" His voice seemed disinterested, but I could see curiosity in his brown eyes.

"It was..." I mulled the question over, and then the color. "It was just another color."

They obviously didn't like my answer.

I can see it in the way Christopher looks away, jaw tensing. In the way Jolene sets down her cup, brows knitted together.

I don't care.

I don't have to make these people happy.

They aren't my parents.

"At nine, they moved us again. This time, everything was red. And there were doctors now."

Christopher looked back over. "Doctors?"

I shrug. "I think they were doctors. They wore all white and funny jackets. The agents all wore black, and then ties the same color as their sector."

Jolene tilted her head. "And the two agents that came with you?"

I blink, thinking. "One was Agent Colar. She was my personal agent. Now that I'm gone, I guess she'll be given a new child to care for."

Jolene tsked her tongue, but didn't say anything else.

Honestly? I was tired of this place already.

"Can I take a nap somewhere? This morning has been pretty nuts." I fidget with the hem of my shirt, not wanting to look at them. My parents.

"Sure, sweetie. Your bedroom has been waiting ever since they took you." She gave a wistful smile, as if remembering the sterile hospital room. "You were such a stubborn baby, even back then."

I bite my tongue to keep from saying something I might regret.

Jolene leads me farther back through the house, down a dimly lit hallway, the floor squeaking at each step we take.

"Right here, Stephanie." She opens a dark brown door, and I peer into the bedroom.

It's pink and frilly.

I hate pink.

It's too close to red.

Too close to blood.

But I dont say any of that. I just nod. "Ok," I say, and then, as an afterthought, tack on "Thanks Mom."

She beams at me, but I turn away. I don't want to get her hopes up.

Shutting the door behind me, I set down my bag next to the bed, then drop onto the lacy pink cover.

This day can't get any worse. Right?

/////////////

Reason number 2 that they can't be my parents.

"Today's not* my birthday," I say aloud. We're supposed to be brought back to our parents on our birthdays.

But in the facility, my birthday wasn't supposed to be celebrated until next month.

It's only April.

Obviously, this raises many more questions.

If today is not my birthday, why was a brought back? If today is not my birthday, that means they cant be my parents.

Which makes sense.

Besides, brown plus brown can't make blue.

Christopher and Jolene have been leaving me alone, which is good.

They haven't said what to do for lunch, which is not good.

I'm hungry.

But I also don't want to venture out, into the unknown of the house.

I won't call it home.

It's not my home.

It's just a building, with a room that I hate, and two people who aren't my parents.

I have to get back to my true home.

I have to get back to the facility.

And I'll do anything to get there.

///////////

Than you for reading this so far! This was pretty fun to do, and I hope others are also trying this challenge!

I may or may not continue with this, exploring Stephanie and her personality more, and all the secrets of her time in the facility.

Until then!

Just over 1000 words, just under 30 minutes for all writing and editing