Gone (Parallel Trilogy, Book 1)

by Christine Kersey

  Hiding my displeasure at the lack of a sweet dessert, I took the bowl Mom handed me and ate all the bananas. No one seemed to notice anything out of the ordinary with me—at least no one said anything—so I finished my meal and carried my bowl over to the sink. When everyone was done I started on the dishes, happy to have the solitude so I didn’t have to pretend everything was normal. No one bothered me as I washed each dish by hand then dried them one by one.

  As I worked, my thoughts bounced between self-pity that I’d found myself in this predicament, and worry that I wouldn’t be able to get home. After I put the last clean dish away, I headed upstairs. I rested on my bed and thought about the world I lived in now. Everything was definitely different and I didn’t much like it, but it seemed I didn’t have a choice in the matter.

  I pictured the hut and the long tunnel I’d passed through the day before. Straining my mind, I tried to think of any hint that I had passed from one universe to another. I remembered when I’d dropped the lantern and it had gone out and how I’d had to light matches for the rest of the way. Maybe I had changed universes during that time. After all, I’d been preoccupied with making sure I could see. I hadn’t really paid attention to anything but the space right in front of me.

  It was all too much for me to take in. Rolling over, I curled into a ball, wishing with all of my heart that I was just having a nightmare. I thought about the many times I’d had a bad dream and woken to realize it was all in my head and the utter relief I’d felt when I could think about the bad dream with detachment, because the horrible event in that dream hadn’t actually happened.

  Now I knew the exact opposite feeling. This was all too real and I couldn’t escape it merely by waking up. This world was my new reality and I was scared. Dad was gone, taken away by strangers simply because they didn’t like the numbers on the scale. And that decision had forced my family to move to a new town and to barely have enough money to scrape by; at least that was what it sounded like according to Brandon.

  What kind of place was this? What other rules were there? What was expected of me here? How was I going to survive for two months until I could attempt to get back home?

  I must have fallen asleep, because the next thing I knew Amy was shaking me and telling me it was time to get up. At first I wondered why she was in my room, but then it all came back to me and a new worry took over as I remembered today was the first day at my new school.

  Forcing myself to get out of bed, I made my way to the bathroom and showered, then dug through the closet trying to find a pair of jeans that fit. The Morgan in this world must have been thinner than me because most of her pants were a little too snug. Luckily she had a couple of pairs that were bigger—maybe they were her fat pants—and those fit me.

  Once I finished doing my hair I headed downstairs. Mom was in the kitchen making breakfast for everyone (except Dad, of course, since he had vanished as far as I was concerned).

  “I made some oatmeal, Morgan,” Mom said. “Sit down and eat.”

  “What time do I need to leave?” I asked as I glanced at the clock before sitting down. It was seven o’clock exactly.

  “We’ll leave at seven thirty.” Mom set a bowl of a steaming brown mush in front of me.

  Staring at the goop in my bowl, I grimaced. “I’m not really hungry.”

  “Morgan,” Mom said, sighing. “What is it with you lately? It’s like you’ve never eaten my food before.”

  “I’m just nervous for my first day.” Which was certainly true, although that wasn’t why I didn’t want to eat the contents of the bowl.

  “Try to eat a little at least,” she said, before being distracted by a beeping noise coming from her cell phone. She picked up the device and read something on the screen. “Not again,” she muttered, then looked at me. “Morgan, you didn’t weigh yourself again.”

  “What?” I asked, frowning.

  She held the device out for me to see and I read the words on the screen: No weight recorded for Morgan Campbell.

  At first I wondered why her phone would know I hadn’t weighed myself. Then I remembered what Fred had said about the government keeping track of your weight and how you were supposed to use your bathroom scale.

  Mom set the device on the table. “You know you need to weigh yourself at least once a week. I don’t know why that’s so hard to remember.” She walked into the kitchen, then evidently noticed I hadn’t moved and turned toward me. “Go take care of it before you eat anything. You know your weight is lower if you haven’t eaten yet.”

  I stared at her, this whole thing new to me, not sure what I was expected to do.

  “Well go on,” Mom said. “And you should probably strip to your underwear. Every little thing can make a difference.”

  Pushing back from the table, I trudged up the stairs and into the bathroom, taking notice for the first time of the unusual item in the corner. I had been too overwhelmed with everything else when I’d been in here before and it hadn’t caught my eye. Still, I wasn’t sure how “they” knew I hadn’t weighed myself. Was there a camera in here, watching me?

  Suddenly extremely self-conscious, I looked around, trying to figure out where the camera could be hiding. I had showered earlier. Had someone been watching? The idea shook me to the core.

  Forcing down the revolting idea that someone in some windowless room was watching me, even now, I approached the device in the corner. Obviously, it was a scale. The main difference from the scales I was used to was the metal rod attached to the scale, which rose vertically and ended at waist height. A strange device was attached to the rod and I leaned closer to see what it was. From the top I couldn’t see anything so I squatted. It looked like the thing next to the computer, which I had assumed was an eye scanner. I had heard of these before, but had never seen one.

  I blinked as I examined it.

  “Morgan Campbell. No weight read,” a female voice calmly said.

  I jumped back, startled by the voice that had come from the device.

  “Please step on the scale,” the voice added.

  “What the . . .?” Then I realized how Mom and apparently the whole world knew I hadn’t weighed myself. This thing, this device, must identify each person when they got on the scale and report the weight to the government. That’s how they knew if you’d gained too much weight. The knowledge that there was no camera watching me after all calmed me. By comparison, the idea that my weight was monitored almost didn’t seem so bad.

  Almost.

  I lifted my foot to step on the scale, then remembered Mom’s advice to take off my clothes first. Pulling off my shirt, I suddenly looked around, again feeling like I was being watched. The thought really creeped me out and I almost put my shirt back on. Shaking my head at the ridiculous idea, I stripped down to my underwear, then stepped on the scale.

  “Unknown person,” the female voice informed me.

  “It’s me, Morgan,” I said, as if she could hear me.

  “Unknown person,” the voice repeated.

  “Well, how did you know it was me before?” I asked, as if I would actually get a response.

  “Unknown person.”

  She was really starting to get on my nerves. When I had looked in the eye scanner, it had known it was me, I thought. “Oh,” I said to no one. “I get it. I have to look into the thingy while I’m on the scale.”

  I squatted down again and peered into the device.

  “Morgan Campbell,” the voice said.

  I thought she sounded friendlier this time, but I knew that was just my imagination.

  “Incorrect height,” she said.

  “Really,” I muttered as I stood. “Now what did I do wrong?”

  “Unknown person,” the voice now said.

  My frustration began to grow and I almost gave up, but I knew that was not an option. Then it finally occurred to me that I needed to pull the device up to my eye level rather than me squatting to its level. I put one hand on either side of it and p
ulled, but nothing happened. I yanked harder but it wouldn’t budge.

  Then I leaned closer and looked on the sides and noticed a small button on each side. Using both hands to press both buttons at the same time, I pulled again. This time it slid smoothly upward. I continued pulling it up until it was in front of my face, then let go and it stayed there.

  “Morgan Campbell,” the voice said. Then it stated my height and weight. “Recorded.”

  “Finally,” I said, then stepped off the scale. As I dressed I tried not to focus on how weird this whole thing was. It was something I would have to get used to for as long as I lived in this world.

  I went back down to the kitchen and sat in front of my bowl. The food that had look unappetizing before now looked disgusting. Jabbing my spoon into the brown lump, I dug around but couldn’t bring myself to eat it.

  Glancing at Mom, I saw she was busy with my brothers, so I carried the bowl to the sink and, making sure Mom wasn’t looking, I tilted the bowl to dump it, but remembered there was no garbage disposal to dump it into. I’d have to put it in the trash. I managed to hide the gloop underneath some other trash, then rinsed the bowl and set it in the sink.

  “Are you ready to go, Morgan?” Mom asked.

  I jerked my head around to look at her, startled at almost being caught. “Uh, yeah. I just need to brush my teeth.”

  “Okay. Well hurry. Today I’ll drop you off, but you’ll have to get yourself to school after that.”

  “Oh,” I said, wondering how far the school was and wondering how I would get there. Did I have a bike or would I have to walk? “Will you be picking me up today?”

  “Morgan, you know I have to work. Today they let me come in late, but I can’t leave early too.”

  I wondered where Mom worked. In my other world she was a stay-at-home mom. I had no idea what marketable skills she possessed.

  I ran upstairs and brushed my teeth. As I came out, Amy was standing there holding a beat-up looking backpack.

  “Don’t forget this, Morgan,” she said, a warm smile on her face.

  I wondered if it was a trick; I wasn’t used to Amy being nice to me. I took it from her.

  “Let’s go, girls,” Mom shouted from downstairs.

  I didn’t have time to see what was inside the backpack. Instead I just followed Amy down the stairs.

  “Ready?” Mom asked, a smile on her face.

  I nodded, although I didn’t feel ready at all. I wouldn’t know one single person at this new school and I was beginning to feel sick with nervousness. The fact that I hadn’t eaten any breakfast probably didn’t help. And what was I supposed to do for lunch?

  “Did you pack a lunch?” Mom asked, apparently reading my mind.

  “Uh, no. What do you think I should bring?”

  She glanced at her watch. “We don’t have much time. Just grab a power bar and an apple. Maybe a cheese stick. That will work, won’t it, honey?”

  “Yeah, sure,” I said, knowing that was the answer she expected.

  “Great. We’ll be in the car. Hurry now.”

  I watched everyone walk out the door to the garage, then I went to the refrigerator and grabbed a small red apple and a tiny cheese stick. I dropped them in my backpack, then went to the pantry. I didn’t see any power bars, just the box of crackers I’d snacked on the day before. I picked it up and shook it, but knew I had eaten most of them the day before when I’d first arrived. I set the box back, remembering I still had the twenty dollars I’d stolen from the Candee’s house. Maybe I could buy something at school to supplement the apple and cheese stick.

  Mom honked the horn and I raced out to the car. We pulled out of the garage and began driving. I tried to pay close attention to where we were going so that I’d be able to (hopefully) find my way home once school was done. As we turned down one street and up another, I became more and more worried that I would never find my way home.

  Ten minutes later we pulled up in front of my school.

  “Have a good day, sweetheart,” Mom said brightly from the comfort of her seat.

  I stared at the kids streaming by, then opened the door and climbed out.

  “Bye, Morgan,” Mom said.

  I glanced at her and muttered good-bye, then shut the door and watched her pull away with Amy and my brothers in the back seat. For some reason known only to this universe, the first day of school was on a Thursday. The good news was that I only had to get through two days before the weekend arrived.

  And, I reminded myself as I tried to avoid the stares of the other students, I’m only going to be in this world for a couple of months. In the meantime I can be whoever I want to be. Maybe if I pretend I have confidence my confidence will actually grow. I smiled at the thought as I walked toward the doors the rest of the student body was pushing through.

  Chapter Fourteen

  As I entered the building I tried to discover the location of the office. I had no idea what my schedule was, but hoped it wouldn’t be a big deal to get a copy of it. It didn’t take long to notice the long line of students snaking out of a doorway. I assumed that was the office.

  Students want to change their schedules in this world too, I thought, smiling to myself as I got in line.

  As I waited in line I noticed several posters on the wall. They were very different from the posters at the school I was used to. One said: Which sports team will YOU join? And then in smaller print: Remember, all students are required to join at least one sports team.

  That sucks, I thought. I’d never been athletic and didn’t particularly enjoy working up a sweat.

  Fifteen minutes later I was at the front of the line. “I need a copy of my schedule,” I said to the woman behind the counter.

  “What is your name?”

  “Morgan Campbell.”

  She typed something into her computer, then looked at me. “Have you decided which sport you’re going to do?”

  “Uh, no.”

  “You only have until tomorrow to decide, Morgan.”

  I wondered what would happen if I didn’t choose a sport.

  “You would probably prefer to make the choice yourself, otherwise we’ll put you where we have openings.”

  That answered my question, although I still didn’t know which sport I would hate the least, or the sport where I would have any skill at all. “Okay.”

  Then she grabbed my schedule off of a printer and handed it to me.

  “Thanks,” I said, though I didn’t mean it. Suddenly I had an intense desire to be back at my real school, in the other universe. It was true I didn’t really know many people there, but at least I was used to the way things worked. Plus, in that world I lived in a house I was familiar with and where the food I ate was normal and most importantly my dad was home and not in some government-run fat farm.

  Since there didn’t seem to be anything I could do about my situation right now, I forced down the utter despair I felt and instead focused on getting through the day.

  My next task was to find the classroom I was now late for. I almost asked a student where the room was, but chickened out and decided I’d act confident later.

  When I finally found the room where I was supposed to be, I was afraid to open the door and interrupt the teacher. But when another student arrived and pulled the door open and walked in, I followed her, glad I wasn’t the only one running late. She walked up to the teacher and handed her a piece of paper, which I assumed was to excuse her for being tardy.

  I felt my face redden as I realized I had no such pass. When the girl turned away from the teacher, the teacher turned to me and held out her hand.

  “I’m sorry I’m late,” I whispered, mortified to be the center of attention. “I’m new here.”

  The teacher sighed. “Okay. Go find a seat.”

  I smiled, thankful that I wasn’t in trouble. Then I turned to the room full of students and looked for a place to sit. There were two empty seats. One on the front row, and one in the middle of the room. As I
walked toward the seat in the middle (I really didn’t want to be in the front), I felt everyone’s eyes on me.

  Trying to ignore the feeling of being judged, I slid into my seat and unzipped the mystery backpack. Attempting to be unobtrusive, I dug around until I found a notebook and pencil. I set them on the desk and faced the teacher.

  “Now that everyone has arrived, we will begin by reciting our pledge. All arise.”

  I stood with everyone else, and when they put their hands on their hearts I did the same. In my other world (that thought still boggled my mind), we had stopped saying the pledge in school, so I was surprised they did it here.

  Maybe there are some good things about this place, I thought. Then I realized that they weren’t facing the flag, but just facing the front of the room.

  As one, the students began to speak.

  “I pledge to always follow the rules and to take care of my body. I will strive to put the good of all above the desires of one. A healthy me is a healthy world.”

  Stunned, I had to forcibly keep my mouth from hanging open. The students then sat and I did as well, my mind in a whirl. I stared at my blank notebook and tried to process the message of the pledge. On its face it didn’t seem so bad, but it was just so weird.

  “You there,” the teacher said.

  I looked up and saw she was pointing to me.

  “What’s your name?”

  “Morgan.” I felt the eyes of the other students on me.

  “Why didn’t you recite the pledge?”

  What was I supposed to say? That I’d never heard it before? That would cause all kinds of trouble. “Uh, I, I guess I’m not feeling very good today.”

  “You know it’s required that you recite the pledge each day in class. If you’re feeling so poorly that you can’t manage to recite the pledge, I don’t want you in my class.”

  Mortified to be called out like that in front of everyone, I felt the blood rush to my face. “I’m sorry,” I managed to say.

  “Make sure it doesn’t happen again.”

  I nodded and looked back at my notebook. Thankfully, the teacher ignored me after that.