Ren and Neo sat across from each other, a fire roaring a few feet to their right and Nora sitting a few feet to their left. They sat in a pose of meditation and self-reflection. Their legs were crossed and their palms rested on their knees. Their eyes were closed, and Ren had instructed Neo to sit upright and to simply focus on her breathing – the rest, he said, would come on its own. Ren was following his own instructions effortlessly, while Neo fidgeted and struggled to get comfortable.

Finally, she gave a sigh and sprawled out, "I don't get it, Ren! How can you sit here like this not doing anything? You can't move, you can't think, and you have to breathe just the right way! It's boring, and I can't stand it!"

Ren opened his eyes and looked down at the small, frustrated girl. It was odd how careless she could be one moment and crying her eyes out the next. He attributed it to her fragile emotional state, though it was sometimes humorous how childishly flighty she could be. Even though he could tell that she was a few years older than he was, she certainly did not act the part, "That's okay, Neo. Meditation isn't for everyone."

"Hah! You can say that again!" Nora interjected.

"…But I do think that this is one way to induce your memories faster."

Neo leaned back up, "Do you have any other ways? I don't think this one is going to work for me."

"Well there is one, but it's a little dangerous. So long as Nora and I are watching you though, you shouldn't do anything too dangerous," He reached into his backpack and pulled out a bottle containing a greenish-yellow liquid, "I picked this up at the market a few days ago and made a drink from it."

Nora and Neo both grimaced at the odd vial, "What is it?"

"It's peyote, and it's chock-full of mescaline. It should induce powerful hallucinations, and if we're lucky, some of those will be your memories. Are you sure you want to try this?"

Neo gulped, "Sure. What have I got to lose, right?"

A sinking swimming feeling. Falling weightless, lost from time and space. There were no eyes now, none to look upon her. She was here, but here was nowhere. This was herself: empty, hollow, and confused.

She felt an aching, a loss, a hunger. She was incomplete. She had known before but now it was glaring, painful, impossible to ignore.

She had to find it. That's why she was here.

Burning. Brimstone. Ash. All around were endless flicks of red and orange. She was crying. She heard laughter from behind her as someone smacked her on the back, "Cheer up, kiddo, this is just another day at work! Don't forget, you asked for all this!"

She wept and screamed, but no voice came out. Instead her lungs filled with nothing as darkness crept in around her. The orange and red seemed to shrink into a tiny, cozy square. The same voice came from her right. She had a glass of milk in her hand. A man with hair like the fire looked up from a book, "Is everything okay?" She nodded, but it was not her. An echo long gone, like the ripple of a rock on the surface of a pond, she felt it all the same. Something stirred within her. It was love. It was two kinds of love. She felt for this flame-haired man the love a child feels for their parent: a mix of gratitude, pride and wistfulness welled up within her. She felt happy – no – calm. Then a new love reared its head. A hot lustful love was inside her. She felt excited and embarrassed, ready and ashamed. What child feels this way for their parent? But he was not her parent, not really at least.

In a blink she was elsewhere. Flame-Hair clutched his cane as she looked up at him with doe eyes, "What's wrong, daddy?"

A swift smack. Crushing disappointment. The first and last time she would call him that. His face was as red as his hair, "Don't ever speak while were in public! We can't have them hearing that!" She felt her heart sink in her chest. Water dosed her. She was broken, disconsolate, and though she cried, not a sob was heard. His order, followed to the letter. Her love rose once again. She could prove herself to him, gain him back. He could be hers, she knew it, she had to know it.

Backwards she fell, but there was no floor to catch her. She spun about like a tire on its wheel, many more degrees than she should have. Gravity was everywhere, crushing her, smashing her, shrinking her. When she righted herself, she was surrounded by men in suits who towered over her, with faces covered in ill-intent. Far away she heard the man she loved say a thing, give an order, "She's all yours." And she was. She did what had to be done, what sullied and ruined her. But she would do it gladly, because she loved that man and would do anything for him.

A rush again, raindrops fell about her. The man she would come to know as a father stood over her, offering a hand. His smile was warm and without ulterior motives. He was honest, he was pure, to her at least. He had sincerity that he would later lose, that he would later sacrifice.

A diner. A briefcase of dust. A raven-haired woman wrapped in carmine. Her eyes had a pull, her body had an allure, and her lips whispered arcane secrets. The man she loved loved another. The woman in red had what she lacked. Her eyes were a dazzling yellow, while hers were freakish and indecisive. She felt jealousy, but the woman in red made her father happy, so she allowed it.

Another night. A dull fireplace. Whispered arcane secrets. The flame-haired man was huddled in a corner, grasping his temples and pulling out his hair in clumps. He alternated between screaming in horror until his voice went hoarse and sobbing until he could not see. For days in sat and clawed at his skin, the things the woman in red had told him gnawing at his brain. "It was impossible," he had said, "Yet I know it's true. It's so obvious now, how did we never see?"

Days passed and he stopped screaming. Weeks passed and he stopped crying. He never once turned to the girl he had raised. Anything she said went unheard, any food she brought went ignored. It's no small miracle he didn't starve, eating only nibbling bits he worked into his hands. Months passed and finally he rose from his chair. Without a word he walked out the door. He came back changed, unlike he ever had been. His new affable demeanor belied the truly broken man that he was. Nothing made sense, so he simply followed the woman in red's orders, and the girl followed his orders in turn

Suddenly, eyes. So many eyes. The girl with pink eyes saw only eyes around her. Pairs of eyes peered at her as they walked through the streets. They know, they know! She tugged at her sleeve but dared not say a word. The eyes began to shift. Irises that had once been a rainbow of colors shifted: pink. Her own eyes stared at her. Hatred was what they saw. Self-loathing filled her, "I god what have I done?" she pounded the ground. Her eyes filled with tears that dissipated into the air. Her pained face twisted into a grin. In her hands was a knife, and beneath her was a man. The man was armed and armored, but he had simply been doing his job. He never suspected a small child would overpower him. She relished this fact. The murder filled her with a sick love she had though long since left behind: That embarrassing, perverted, shameful love she felt for her father had been directed to this man, to this act, to this killing. All the times he had hit her added another stab. All the times he had loved her added another stab. The man was long since dead, and the girl felt her muscles growing weak and exhausted. And yet she kept stabbing, until finally she had expressed all her love and all her hate. The eyes that watched her, those pink, judgmental eyes burst into a flurry of ecstasy. She cackled and she cried, unable to control herself.

She stood atop a lake. She also stood atop a lake. They were one and the same. One had a demented grin, the other a look of shock and horror.

"Who are you?"

"I am me."

She remembered everything.

"Ren, what's wrong with her?" Nora shouted, panicked tears filling her eyes

"I don't know, but we have to hold her down!"

Neo's body shook wildly. Every muscle in her body strained against itself. Bruises formed as small capillaries burst under the skin. She cackled constantly, her eyes closed but her jaw rocking up and down as she laughed psychotically. All at once her body came to a rest. Ren and Nora let go of her. Neo was still. Neo was quiet. Finally, she opened her eyes and sat up. Her face was expressionless like a mask, still like water.

Nora put a hand on her shoulder, "Neo, are you alright?"

She did not say a word.