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Everything’s hazy. As it has been for a long, long time now. The clicking of her heels echoes throughout the vast, empty space.
Roxanne wonders if she’ll see them today. It’s been a little while since they last appeared. She’s not entirely sure if she’s glad about that or not.
It’s...difficult. Being around them. They have his face; his voice; his mannerisms. But when they speak to her, they’re curt and clinical, each question asked like a routine check-up they do only because they need to. Disappearing for days—or is it weeks? Months? Even...years? They’ll show up again out of the blue.
“How are you?”
“Fine.”
“Can you see?”
“Yes.”
“Can you hear?”
“Not really.”
“Can you move?”
“No.”
Then, she’s alone again. Left with only her thoughts. The vague sense of the days passing. Hazy memories of the world outside from days past; Kale, being in her office, garbled conversations. Then, there’s the moments from the present. Or...she thinks they are. Cleaning, doting, doing paperwork Kale doesn’t want to do. Seeing bits and pieces of her life. If she can even really call it hers anymore.
How long have things been like this? How much has she lost? Does she deserve this?
Roxanne has thought about it a lot. Frankly, she’s tired of thinking. But there’s not much else to do. Other than miss.
She misses working on projects. Chatting with Macaron and the others. Helping Peppermint with her homework. Coming up with new ideas, and working together to make them a reality. Seeing the happy faces of the people her inventions have improved the lives of. Coffee with her friends. Lying on the couch with Peppermint in her lap, Scrappy curled up next to them, and Kale next to her watching a movie...
Sighing, she frowns. Her eyes close. Head falling forward, she wraps her arms around herself.
It’s too late. She can’t get any of that back. There’s nothing she can do now. But oh, how she wishes she could.
Something crackles.
They must be here. Roxanne waits for them to ask their first question.
There’s a strange sensation, like pressure releasing.
Still, she waits.
Silence.
Then, she hears it.
The twittering of a bird. The clearest she’s ever heard.
Roxanne opens her eyes.