It’s not every day you get named a number.
I’m Seven. That’s the name they gave me. Seven. Right after six, right before eight.
I live with an Adam, a Polly, and a Miranda. They don’t ask why I’m Seven anymore. They just know I am.
Polly says I have amnesia. I don’t think I do, but I don’t remember anything past last month. I don’t know if I was ever not Seven. I don’t have the things that Miranda does to show she was always Miranda, and how she became Miranda, like yearbooks and pictures and cheerleading trophies.
I’m just Seven.
I remember walking out of a building with a purse and a duffel bag, one month ago. The purse had money and a credit card. The name on the card just says Seven.
Miranda asked if I was like Bon-oh, or Share. I think she was joking, but the bills come right to me at our little house on the street, and they say Seven, and they’re always paid before I get them.
Weird. That’s what Polly says.
She also says we should go on a “shopping spree, just us girls”.
Is that dangerous?
I don’t dream.
Is that weird?
I asked Miranda. She said, “don’t worry.”
I worry anyway. I should have dreams, shouldn’t I?
I don’t remember ever having dreams, or nightmares. I just go to sleep and wake up.
Adam says I’m lucky. He’s got sleep ahp-kneeyuh, or that’s how he says it. That’s bad for him. It sounds painful.
But he told me about his dreams, when he has them. They sound wonderful. He flies, or he runs, and weird things, really weird and cool-sounding things happen. The world starts floating, or he’s riding a tricycle in traffic, or his friends all turn into cartoons.
I wish I could dream like that.
I was eating breakfast when I started playing with my knife.
Polly saw me, and asked what I was doing. It danced through my fingers as I chewed my eggs, pausing to help slice the scrambled mess and move them onto the fork.
I didn’t know I was doing it, until she told me it to pay attention. And it twirled, it spun, and then I grabbed it by the tip and threw it. It landed right in one of the cabinets, and made a big hole. I looked at it like huh, I can do that?
Polly told me to not say nothing, grabbed the knife, pulled it out, and said go back upstairs, go go go. She looked at me weird.
Have I always been able to do that?
Can I do other things like that?