Epilogue: Dear Diary - Miss Independence

Dear Diary,

My parents said ‘yes’! I can finally have my own independence with their permission! I can’t believe how perfect it’s all turning out. To think that Leila has an apartment just down the road from my parents house and happens to be looking for a new roommate. To be honest I was surprised to see her visit me in the hospital that day. Everyone else had just left, I was packed and waiting for my parents to collect me. She makes me a little nervous. Just the thought of her working with the head counsellor... But then I know she also saved me. She never meant any harm... I can trust her.

I told my parents that she was a friend from camp and I’d be living just down the road. I guess they realised my need for independence. Finally my life is back to normal and moving forward.

It’s strange to think of what happened at Camp Woodlands. It’s like trying to recall a dream. The more I think of it the more I’m uncertain of what actually happened... I know now at least that it was never really a recreational camp but some kind of testing ground for the head counsellor’s technology.

... I’m currently in Leila’s car. She met my parents at the hospital and they allowed her bring me home. Quite reluctantly though. I think my parents miss me. Daddy says they’re afraid of losing me again. I didn’t realise running away the first time would affect them so much. I told them it would be best for Leila to take me to her place so I can start to settle in and I would visit them tonight.

It’s a couple hours journey from the hospital I think... we’re almost at Plotovetus now. My parents were well ahead of us, I think they’d be home by now. Probably preparing a speech to make me stay at home.

I wonder what the others are up to right now. I guess they’ve all gone home. I gave Chloe my new mobile number; I hope she keeps in contact. We’re so different but we’ve also been through so much together. I think she’s the closest real friend I’ve really had. Plotovetians can’t be trusted. They’re always manipulating people for their own goals... I haven’t asked Leila yet; I wonder how long she’s been living in Plotovetus.

... Huh, apparently she grew up in Plotovetus. She works at the university! I definitely didn’t expect that of her. We just passed my parents house. Leila pointed out the apartment. I didn’t realise there were actually apartments at this building. I thought it was just a research facility. I guess that fits with Leila’s job at the university. She does something to do with technology research.

Dear Diary,

Leila’s apartment is sooo clean! I love it! Though it reminds me a little of the underground facility at Camp Woodlands. Just the high tech gadgets I guess. I didn’t think an apartment like this connected to the research facility would be able to be shared with just another civilian like me. Similarly to the underground facilities at Camp Woodlands I need a swipe card to get through certain doors. I don’t have one yet. I have to rely on Leila to get me in and out of the apartment, the passage and the building. Until she gets me a card of my own... I think I’ll get my own swipe card tomorrow.

Leila’s in the kitchen cooking dinner while I settle in. She convinced me there’s no need to see my parents tonight. Maybe tomorrow. I have everything I need for a week in my bags that daddy supplied me with at the hospital. Also Leila is going to support me. Technically I don’t ever need to see them again... at least, that’s how Leila put it. Jokingly of course. It’s not like she’d keep me from ever seeing my parents again. I’ll see them tomorrow.

I’ve taken all my things out of my bags and sorted it all on my bed to put into draws and cupboards but... I can’t find my new mobile. I’m sure I put it in the front pouch of my handbag. I had it with me all this time. Leila brought it inside when she helped carry all my bags in... She wouldn’t take my mobile though. I’m sure she probably has like 5 of her own. Hopefully I find it soon. I was thinking of calling daddy to let him know I won’t be coming tonight. Also if I don’t find it then how will Chloe contact me? I wonder if she thinks of me at all. Leila didn’t seem to think that Chloe would be interested in seriously keeping contact. Every time I see my reflection or flick my hair I think of her though. My hair was cut off and her clothes were shredded. At least the hospital supplied a hair dresser for me. It was quite convenient and thoughtful I thought. My hair is still short but at least it looks neat now.

It would be cool to be able to just make my hair long again. I couldn’t say that virtual reality was bad. I thought it was actually useful. I guess it depends who has control of it... but it doesn’t matter now. Dylan erased the program. But there’s still... this feeling. I felt it since 10 years ago, in my head. Its presence was strongest when the head counsellor helped me understand how to use the virtual reality. I guess from that moment I thought this feeling was the presence of the virtual reality technology that was in my mind but... I thought that if the program was erased this feeling would go away. Maybe it’s not the virtual reality after all.

I feel like because Leila was so involved at Camp Woodlands I can talk to her freely about these sorts of things. No one else would understand and... that lady that visited at the hospital said we couldn’t talk about this stuff to people. I guess I can only talk to someone who was there and understands it from their own experience. Leila understands. I told her about this strange feeling when we were in the car on our way from the hospital. She just smiled and said not to worry... which is fine I guess. I wish I could have had a bit more of a response though. It was a strange smile. Not just a quick comforting one but it seemed to be a ‘brightened up her day’ kind of smile. Maybe she has the same feeling and feels comforted that she’s not alone. I can’t think of any other reason why it might make her happy. Maybe I’m reading too much into this... it’s just a feeling.

... Dinner’s ready.

Epilogue: Voices

He was glaring at me from his hospital bed. The fury etched on his features made flinching a very good idea.

But I stared back at him, disgusted at myself for thinking it would be any different. I came wanting closure, answers to questions that lay bare upon my soul, and I thought he would oblige me?

Sometimes I was just as deluded as Luck.

"Come to gloat, perhaps?" he spat, hateful eyes following my slow, pondering steps to the bedside chair. It was far enough that he wouldn't be able to lunge for me, ignoring all the security measures the police insisted upon. He was a mass murderer after all, not only at the camp, but in Gotums itself.

I adjusted my right shoulder, wishing I could scratch under the bandage. Recovering from shot wounds was not fun. "I was hoping you could answer some of my questions," I responded in a neutral tone.

A harsh smile appeared for a few moments before it was replaced with his trademark glare. "Poor Forrest still without his memories?"

I refused to be baited by his inane comments. "Perhaps we should start with something simple," I said, leaning forward, "like telling me the head counselor’s true name."

That shocked him. He quickly grew angry again at my smug smile. "I'm not telling you anything."

"Surely you wouldn't want to send me away with nothing," I replied, my smile still infuriating, "since this is the first real conversation you've had, in what, weeks?"

Several emotions flickered over his face. Loneliness and anger were the only ones I recognized. "You wouldn't believe anything I would say anyway."

"Perhaps not," I replied, "but I would still listen."

A former friend, now hated enemy, but the only person willing to listen to his lot in life. I could almost tell his thought patterns by the way he looked at me and when he looked away. He was beginning to crack.

"Robert, or Bob for short, was his name," he murmured quietly, not looking me in the eye. I tried not to snigger. It was so cliché, so plain that it had to be true. The only thing worse would have been John Smith.

"How did you find out?" I asked. There had been no hints during the camp, not even from ten years ago.

"There were things he told me that he never told anyone else." His eyes had a faraway look to them. "Secrets that had to be kept if he died or wasn't able to finish his work."

"And this trust was the main reason you felt so betrayed when he turned on you?"

I thought such a comment would incense him again. But to my surprise, it did quite the opposite.

"Why?" The rest of the question was left unsaid, perhaps too hard for him to spit out. Why did he pick you instead? He gave me a pleading look.

"I don't even know anymore," I replied softly. "He choose me then decided to wipe my memories. Then I had to live with his voice in my head for the next ten years without knowing anything. Isn't that worse than being betrayed?"

Luck didn't know how to respond. He may have sacrificed his conscience over the last ten years but he wasn't totally without sympathy. For himself or for other people.

"I thought he returned all my memories at the camp, but…" I had to look away. "I know there are still gaps."

"And you were willing to speak with the person who almost killed you," Luck said, a strange pitying look on his face, "you must have been desperate."

"No more than you are," I replied, "divulging your secrets to a person you hate just for the sake of company."

"We're just as bad as each other," he said, laughing morosely. "Fine, I'll tell you what I know, even when I expect you won't believe me."

I shrugged. "You're the only credible source I have. No one else, not even Maria, will tell me anything."

"The head counselor told me about a room that would always remain hidden, even if the network went down, somewhere in Camp Woodlands. Apparently it held the secrets necessary to complete his work or something like that."

"A hidden backup, in other words," I said, wondering where such a thing would be placed.

"Yes, a backup that would only activate if you spoke his true name. It was my intention to locate it and destroy it, but…" He gave a little shrug. "I got sidetracked."

"I was planning to go back anyway, but now I'll have something concrete to look for." I looked at him. "I don't know whether to thank you or curse you."

He smirked. "You could always come back afterwards and let me know."

I was feeling a little worried that we were falling into the same sort of camaraderie that made us such good friends in the past. "We'll see," I replied. If he told the truth, then maybe…

"Give my regards to Chloe if you ever see her again," he called out as I left the room, nodding to the police officer at the door. I ignored him. Such a suggestion would only be met by violence.

The camp was abandoned when I got there. Labresci scientists had claimed anything they could get their hands on, for research purposes of course, Dylan had informed me. The likelihood that I would find this 'room' Luck had described were remote at best. But what was the harm in walking around the underground labs shouting 'Bob' whenever I got the chance? It was a better plan then anything else I could come up with.

Eventually I got to the bottom basement level, which was probably somewhere under the lake. Yelling his name created strange echoes of sound that bounced off the walls and rock that decorated the sides.

Then I heard it. A slow scraping sound echoing back at the very end of the hallway.

I hurried toward the sound and found an open door that I swore hadn't been there before. I stepped through the doorway.

There was nothing in the small room. Nothing hiding away at all. I had to laugh. Luck had sent me on a wild goose chase after all. He was probably laughing his head off.

Hello, Forrest.

I stiffened. I knew that voice.

Looks like you're back to where you started, voices and all…

I walked out the room and slammed the door shut. The voices disappeared.

But I could still hear the last thing the voices said, before I had cast them into oblivion.

You will never know what REALLY happened ten years ago.