It was odd, the African American girl thinks as she fingers the fragile object. Holding it in the fading sun's rays, the dark glass glinted. Again she feels the nagging feeling at the back of her mind. It feels like she's forgotten something. A very important something that was taken away from her.

"Hey Abby!" You happy that you're thirteen?" It was an overexcited tone of voice that caused the young teen to pause. Looking up from her bed, she saw it was her elder sister, bunched up hair and all. Seeing that her younger sister was fondling a familiar object, she pursed her lips.

"Something wrong, Cree?" It occurred to the birthday girl that her older sister was acting quite…flighty. Her mood that is.

One moment she was ignoring Abby and the next she would be hugging her and squealing jovially at the thought of her leaving her childhood. Her childhood…What was she doing yesterday?

Normally she would…

And Cree would…

Glancing at the delicate treasure she grasped tightly in her hands, she frowned slightly. Was there something to remember? Was it…

Was it a someone she had to recall?

Fatigue and a headache formed as she struggled to recollect the facts that defined who she was. Flopping back on her bed, she decided to let go and relax.

"Nothing's wrong Abby. I'm just wondering," here she edged cautiously to the bedside," do you feel happy?"

At that inquiry, Abigail felt an electric charge seep through her frame. It didn't seem like that her sister cared for her well being, but…

That wasn't her sister's voice speaking. It held the undertone of someone far more older; of one who was a soldier. But that can't be possible, could it? She let her body move of its own volition; a graceful stance that conveyed defiance and control over the situation.

"Abby's feeling fine! I just feel like I'm missing something, but I don't know what." Sitting comfortably, she began to notice that her voice and eyes held coolness that she didn't know that she possessed. And that scared her.

"Aw, girl! I felt the same way when I was your age!" Slapping a hand on the shoulder of her younger sister, the elder smiled broadly. At the sight of the hand on her shoulder, Abby inwardly seethed. Wait. Why was she even angry or uncomfortable in the first place? Nevertheless, she let her sister remain in contact with her for the time being.

"But do you feel like that you broke a promise?" Something pricked at the corner of her almond brown eyes.

Cree turned away as she began to mull over the question.

"I might have broken a few promises along the way, but I regret none of them." Her cold eyes that once held affection held a warning. Don't get involved with what you don't understand. It was that at point that Abby began to comprehend; things weren't what they seemed. "You don't have to regret the past, move on."

And Abby wanted to do what were sister demanded but…

There was a something…

Someone's out there who needed her…

It was connected with her birthday, she had to remem-

"Maybe, you're right." She placed the bauble she had been playing with earlier into a cabinet drawer. "It was just a dumb old pair of sunglasses anyway."

Laughing slightly, she turned to her older sibling.

"So what do teenagers technically do anyway?'

Smirking, the teen crossed her arms in a thoughtful manner and answered.

"I thought you would never ask."

You know, I watched Operation I.N.T.E.R.V.I.E.W.S a week ago and I felt the need to write this down. I felt really nostalgic and sad that Nigel left his glasses to Abby, and I wondered, did she keep them?

Also, this fan fiction was all about the decommissioning after the 13th birthday and I wanted to combine both elements together. However, when I typed this down, I began to feel sad and angry at the thought of one losing their memories. If you erased a person's childhood, would they still retain the same personality? Would they be actually the child they once were? Or would their personality be based on someone's person's opinion on them? That's the problem with people nowadays, they're all phonies.

If you erased a person's memories, don't you erase their identity? The key to their ingenuity, their unique 'thing' that makes them, 'them?'

Loss of identity is a pretty big issue of you ask me.

I'm not the child I used to be, but sometimes, I wish I were small again. I wish I were more open and naïve like I was back then. What happened to me?

Don't you feel the same way?

Read, review, and give me some of your views on this subject.

If I were part of the KND I would avoid the decommissioning chamber and lie about my age.