~~

I was still affected by seeing those kids for a long time. Until I was safely on the other side of the Rocky Mountains, I had nightmares. Bad nightmares. I started to go with out sleep, because of them, but eventually my body would give out, and the nightmares would come.

I would see those children, and others. They were being punished in cruel ways. Made to march through pouring rain and the hot sun. They performed experiments on the children, like breaking their bones purposely, and then seeing how long it would take to heal. Then they would train them in the ways of the soldier, about discipline and to be non-emotional, because to show emotions meant weakness. When they were inside the buildings, you could hear screams from the basement, and the sound of marching feet echoed in the corridors. The scariest part of the nightmares was seeing Zack's and my own faces among the marching children. Before I could remember.

Was that place in Wyoming where I came from? Is that why Zack said I would be better off forgetting? Or was it just triggered by what I saw and what Zack told me. . . I wish I could remember.

Once I crossed the mountain range, the nightmares stopped, as if my brain was telling me that I was safe now. So I took off south, sort of followed the mountains down to almost Mexico, then back up around to San Francisco. I never stopped in a city for more than two months, but it took me almost two years to make the circuit. I stopped in San Francisco longer than the other cities. It had been devastated by the Pulse and a lot was going on, but I stayed six months anyway.

It was a few days after my chosen twentieth birthday when I decided to move on, and it took me two months for me to get to my next stop. Seattle.

~~