"So you really don't know what happened to you?" Gabby asked me for the gazilleonth time.

I sighed.

"Nope."

"And you're absolutely sure you don't want me to call the police?" she was still disbelieving even though I'd told her why over and over and over again. You'd think she'd get the message.

"One hundred percent sure. I told you. I do notwant unwanted attention. I don't want to be a news story. Nobody did anything to me - I'm absolutely fine. I don't know anything. I'd rather not be interigated by the FBI or whatever they do. And most of all, I do NOT want my parents to find out that I'm still here. I'd just be a bigger burden on them. I'll get a place of my own or something."

I frowned, "And are you sure that it's really been two years?"

She nodded.

I sighed. Again.

"Ugh. This seems like a dream or soap oprah. Next thing I know, I'll be getting cancer or something."

She laughed.

"Here, try this one," she threw a pair of designer jeans at me, "They're the longest and tightest ones I have. Man, you really lost a lot of weight. You're all skin and bones. Seriously. You could probably count every one of your ribs."

"Ha ha," I said sarcastically. What was I supposed to say? That I was transported to a world that didn't exactly contain my favorite food? Gabby was what most people would consider super-skinny, almost to the point of anorexia, and for her to call me too skinny was not a very good thing.

I peered at myself in the full-length mirror on Gabby's bedroom door again. I hadn't realized that I was so hideoulsy bony. I looked gaunt; my appearance reflected exactly how I felt on the inside. I looked almost hallow.

I touched my face. It was sunken in, my bones were jutting out in odd places. It was almost like the spirit and well-being of me was sinking into my heart. My heart was eating away at my insides because it had run out of love to keep it content.

I sighed for the thousandth time today. I'd have to keep my desolatlessness to myself.

I smiled then and turned to back to Gabby with false cheerfulness displayed on my face. She was fooled.

"So what now?" I asked.

"Well... I don't know. Maybe..."

"What?"

She seemed to be deliberating something. She appeared to think better of it.

"Um - what are you going to do now?"

Maybe I'd misinterpreted the look on her face.

"I don't know. I said I might get a place of my own and I meant it. I'll get a job somewhere."

She looked taken aback.

"Get a job?"

"Yeah. Why?"

"How are you going to do that?"

"What's stopping me?"

I was failing to see what she was making a big deal out of.

"You don't even have your high school diploma!"

Oh. Yeah. Dang. I'd forgotten that little detail.

My face must have betrayed my thoughts.

Gabby smirked.

"See? What are you going to do? Go back to high school? You can't do that without the police or whoever finding out. I think being a story is inevitable for you."

I was NOT going to be a news story. I wouldn't be able to take that on top of everything else! And why did Gabby seem so smug? Did she want me to be a news story?

She laughed, "Geez, Sasha, you never used to keep your thoughts to yourself so much," she sobered, "Seriously. You've changed. A lot."

I rolled my eyes. True, I used to speak my mind a lot, but I had gained better control after all I'd been through.

She still was looking at me strangely.

"What? Spit it out all ready! I know you've been wanting to say something all day! Out with it!"

"You - you're not... nobody - you're not lying, are you?"

"What?" I could hear the sharpness of my tone. How could she tell? Wait, "Lying about what?" I asked.

"You know..." she still seemed hesitant, "...about not remembering anything."

I gasped involuntarily. How did she know? What did she know?

"Of course I'm not! Why in the world would you think that?" I demanded.

"It's just... no one hurt you did they? You're not lying to cover that up?"

Oh... I couldn't suppress a loud giggle. Gabby probably thought I was insane. I coudln't help it. I was so instantaneously relieved.

"No! No... I'd remember that! And I'd tell you anyway! We've always been best friends. We've always told each other everything!"

But I wasn't so sure. I definitely wasn't telling her everything. I think she could sense that.

But she seemed complacent.

"Of course."

I sighed. It seemed like I did that a lot lately.

I was obviously an embarrassment to Gabby. She resented me - and tried to hide it. I didn't know what I'd done wrong. I'd excepted her chairity and have been living with her for a month now. Actually, I knew exactly what was wrong. She'd been right; I had so far been unable to get a job. After all, I was a high school drop-out. Nobody wanted to hire me. I'd never had a job before. At least, not one I could use as references. I think I knew, deep down, what embarrassed her. But I didn't want to believe it. The thing was, I knew that if our roles had been reversed, and I'd been the one to stay in New York City, I'd have been embarrassed by her too.

I mean, for one thing, I hadn't been able to gain back any of the weight I'd lost, no matter how much I forced down my throat. I couldn't get rid of that gaunt look. I was hideous.

Secondly, I was more old-fashioned than most people. Here I thought I'd managed to keep my individuality the whole time I was in Kyrria. Apparently not. Even my clothes choices where relatively old-fashioned.

Thirdly, I'm a freak. There was no getting around it.

Fourthly, she won't get over my new aversion to popularity. Even if it meant being a news story.

Fifly, the other day, she made fun of the show The Biggest Loser. Well, she made fun of the contestants.

I didn't like it.

I had protested. Before Kyrria, I'd have laughed along with her. Now I was able to sympathize with them.

But I knew I had to leave.