"Your name is Adam, okay?"
"Adam, run! Run!"
"This is called an apple. Apple."
"It's sweet, right?"
"I'm your sister, and you're my little brother. Hm? No. It doesn't matter how old you were."
"Once we go out, I'll let you taste ice cream."
Adam sat on the edge of what used to be his bed, staring at the stained mattress beneath him.
When was it? When was the last time his mind visited a memory of the doctor who was kind to him? Was it here? Was it when he lay down on this bed, whose springs had long since given up on him?
Given up. Did she… try to find him? But perhaps the real question should be—why didn't he try to find her? Was… she even alive? Maybe she was just some sort of imagination Adam used to comfort himself… maybe that was why he couldn't remember her face at all.
She was a dream, nothing else.
The only thing that was real now was the Hospital.
