[COLOR=gray][INDENT][B][SUP][SUB][H3]B R Y N N  R E Y E S[/H3][/SUB][/SUP][/B][/INDENT][hr][/COLOR][INDENT][sup]Monday, Social Conscience | Mather Memorial High School[/sup][/INDENT]
The thoughts the word on the board jolted forth were quelched immediately as Bynn forced her mind toward other matters. “There must be something about your lives that feels like it's missing.” Why yes there was, but Brynn would be damned if she ever opened her mouth about any of it. Instead, she waited patiently as Sebastian delivered his one liner, which was becoming the norm around here. The next person that spoke, however, was Winter, and Brynn stopped for a second to look at the younger girl.


While Brynn and Winter never really formally “hung out” in public settings, Brynn had always been vaguely aware of what Winter was up to due to their shared circles. Word was constantly passed around about who had started dating who and which individuals had decided to engage in a round of not-so-mature bantering that consisted more of little actions than actual arguing. Still, Brynn realized that she hadn’t heard much about her friend at all—no boyfriend rumours, no hosting parties, no crazy antics. It was almost like the other girl had cut herself off from their circle—which was easily done as things went around here. You had to fight to stay [i]in[/i] the circle, not out of it.


At Winter’s words, however, Brynn felt a cold wave slide over her. For some reason the words had resonated with her, but Brynn was unsure as to why. She’d never had amnesia, never had some incident in her life she’d tried to repress and never think about again. Sure she didn’t remember what life was like at age two, but she was fairly sure she remembered who her teachers and classmates had been in fifth grade. Being one who prided herself on her memory — it’d gotten her through all of her history classes — Brynn didn’t like the feeling of not being able to remember something. And that feeling was precisely what rose up when she tried thinking about the dance.


The prep she remembered — hanging up lights, draping multi-colored streamers over basketball hoops and whatever else clung to the walls of the gymnasium — as did the hours she’d spent at Adrielle’s. [i]Just over three, to be precise,[/i] Brynn thought with a frown. She’d left her friend’s house at precisely 7:17 pm — a time engraved into her mind because of the repeating digits and because Brynn had made a fuss about being late in the car since the dance started at 7:00. They’d arrived just after 7:30, met up with their friends, and…


[i]And what?[/i] Brynn wondered, brows knitting as she scoured her mind for an answer. Rather than producing the memories of what happened next, Brynn’s mind produced facts — statements. She saw the beginnings of a fire — smoke — and acted accordingly, leading Adrielle and then her friends to the back door as others exited through the front. But… [i]Why don’t I remember what happened?[/i] Brynn wondered. [i]Why is it that the next actual [/i]memory[i] I have of everyone already outside, with the fire trucks pulling up?[/i]