The day was sweltering, the hottest day of the year.
Or rather, it looked sweltering.  Personally, I couldn’t really discern any heat at all, and started my day wearing two sweaters, a hat, and an inestimable quantity of scarves.  My PC (psychicommunicator) perpetually registers external temperatures somewhere above 80 degrees Fahrenheit, even during winter.  I live in New Dallas, so this isn’t exactly surprising.  What would surprise people more is the fact that my internal temperature usually reads about 12 degrees Fahrenheit or lower, with an all-time high of a whopping 20 degrees.  Pyra, my assigned (and probably unnecessary) therapist, keeps telling me I should see a doctor or something, but honestly, I figure if it doesn’t really bother me, there’ s no reason to have it fixed.
Anyway, I was on my way to see Miriam.  I try not to walk on the streets too much to avoid stares, but it’s inevitable if I want to visit her, so I just try to bear it the best I can.  I doubt anyone here even owns a coat (much less as many as I own), or even jeans – they all wear these – I don’t really know how to describe them – sort of shiny “pants” ; they’re advertised as a “second skin”, and can change colors or textures at will, depending on the amount of units you’re willing to pay.  Kids these days. Ha, talking like that you’d think I was older than the Roman Empire.  I’m probably as old as they are, but sometimes I can’t help feeling so much older, what with the way I’m scrutinized like an outdated artifact.
Miriam isn’t like that though. She’s normal, like me.
I met her in a Cryocare ward, shortly before I first awoke.  In fact, I woke to the sweet dissonance of blaring alarms, because of an attempted escape – her escape.  The hospital personnel (well, at the time, I thought I was in a hospital, I don’t really know what you would actually call it) were nowhere in sight after about five seconds.  All I perceived of them was a blur of white through a silently closing door and a general sense of frenzy, despite the tranquility of the room in which I lay motionless.  It was at this point I realized my whereabouts, and dimly wondering why I would be in a hospital, ignoring the collection of unfamiliar equipment around me, or the fact that my bed was in fact a sort of refrigerated case.  Instead, I just fell back asleep and dreamed about being trapped on the Arctic tundra.
However, my sleep was cut short with more chaos; loud shouting this time.   After a few minutes, I finally started to get a grip on my situation:
“I’m in a glass box like Snow White, but those ‘people’ are definitely not dwarves”
The “doctors” were hurrying around frantically, shouting things like “ Hold her down!” and “Kevin, where are the tranquilizers?!”
As my case rolled by this hectic scene, I caught my first glimpse of her, with fiery eyes and an obviously equally fiery temperament.
She’s much calmer now, since she’s “found harmony with the past and the future” whatever that means.  All I know is her bedroom is inundated with “vintage” band posters and Rolling Stone magazine covers and articles.  I can’t even look at it, it’s so putridly nostalgic.
She also plays CDs and even records quite frequently, which is alright I guess, but I always feel a bit dizzy when I step out into the city because everything just looks so weird.  Why aren’t there any cars rolling on the pavement?  What are those light-rail things? Are those really people? Maybe this is just a hyper-realistic 3D movie?
But after standing frozen for a few minutes I manage to bring up my memory exercises.
“My name is Jade Crothinski.  I am 16 years old.  I used to live in Seattle.  I now live in New Dallas.  The year is 2096, not 2020.  I signed up for the Calaïs Program to help my family (I don’t remember them very well).  Much has progressed since then.  The world is different.  My first day (once I was fully functioning), they introduced me to this new way of life gradually, catching up on history, geography, and science.”
At this point I can usually regain my emotional balance, because I remember the teddy bear I received during the first week of “initiation” to establish a grounding point – it’s hard to imagine that such a simple object has remained virtually unchanged in the many decades between its creation and now.  It sits on my bedside table now, an atom of comfort among all this unfamiliarity.
Sometimes I think Miriam tries to persuade me to pursue a “path to wellness” by accepting this modern state of living, but I don’t blame her for it.  It must be pretty difficult to listen to me bewail my miserly misery.  I hope she doesn’t pity me though.  I mean, it’s not like I didn’t make this choice unknowingly, and I definitely don’t deserve pity for it. 
I’m certainly not bitter for it, I’m glad I could help my family, which I guess I did.  As I said, I don’t remember it very clearly.
“Jade? Jade? Can you hear me?”
What?  Why is there an omniscient voice? It sounds familiar so I probably shouldn’t worry.  This has happened before with no unfortunate consequences.
But suddenly, it feels like I’m rising from the depths of a great ocean, ascending from darkness and finally ––
I open my eyes.
“Miriam?” She looks different – older somehow.  And why does my voice sound so cracked?
She laughs, relieved.  I think I see tears glistening at her eyes, but I can’t imagine why.  Nothing’s happened that I know of.  She would’ve told me.
“Honey, you don’t have to call me by my first name.”
Huh? My confusion dissipates at a sudden distracting realization: I’m in a hospital. A normal hospital.  I’m lying in a bed. This seemingly innocuous realization strikes me — leaving me feeling strangely dazed, before I realize I should probably reply, but I feel so tired, heavy.
It doesn’t matter though, she’s discussing something with the doctor – all I hear is his response: “probably a week or so.”  Everything looks so strange.  Well, it looks the way it should, as if I was back in my old life, which feels so bizarre for some reason.  Maybe I was finally accepting that “modern way of living”.
I contemplate this new idea until I catch sight of a calendar, and cease all thought.  The date is wrong.  I don’t live in 2022.
I have no ability to process this.  My thoughts are chaotic, desperately trying to make sense of this terrible inconsistency.  I need to calm down.
My name is Jade Crothinski.  I am 16 years old.  I used to live in Seattle.  I live in New Dallas now.  The year is no longer 2020, the year is 2096.  I signed up for the Calaïs Program to …..

And eventually, I fell back into a state of tranquility, barely aware of the worried faces peering over me before I sank into oblivion.