Yesterdays

Gabe tossed in her bed, the sheets twisting around her body. I don't want to sleep. Sleep will make me dream of it - dream of what I shouldn't remember, what they don't want me to remember. And then I'll wake up. And it will be tomorrow. And I don't want it to be tomorrow. I want to stay in today. No, yesterday. How did that old song go? She sighed, pushing her hair out of her face and rolling onto her stomach. An acrid feeling was rising in her throat, almost bile, and she pushed it back. I'm forgetting. I'm barely Gabe anymore - I'm turning into Gabriel. Soon I'll forget everything. Tegwen. Duckburg. Mitch... poor Mitch.... poor everyone I've touched. And James.

"James," she whispered.

"Shhhhh." A hand reached down and touched her shoulder.

"......What.....?"

"I wanted ta come wish ya luck," Steelbeak whispered, perching on the edge of her bed. "Seein's yer goin' to give yer report to 'Igh Command tomorrow. I know they ain't da easiest people ta face."

"They're ... they don't want me to be who I was," Gabe shuddered. "It frightens me."

"It's only change, Gabriel," he said softly. "Times change. People change. Look how much we've changed. It ain't necessarily a bad ting. Don' worry 'bout it." He tucked the blankets up over her shoulders and tiptoed out of her room. "Get some sleep, you."

She sighed, rolling onto her back to stare into the darkness, folding her hands behind her head. It seemed to ease the burning feeling in the pit of her stomach.

James, she thought, fingering the tiny marks on her forearm as she lay there, waiting resignedly for sleep to claim her. Steelbeak. ... Have you already forgotten?....

I still don't want tomorrow.

But I don't have a choice.