Sometimes Your Roots Can Change

TW: past human trafficking, past character death

Amari eyed the college warily. Sweat steadily coated their palms and they could feel their knees buckling underneath them. They swallowed the saliva that began filling their mouth, threatening to pool out and give way to the bile that churned in their stomach.

Beside them, Gabriel placed a hand on their shoulder. "Hey, we don't have to do this," he assured.

Amari wiped their palms on their pants and put on a winning smile, one that didn’t quite reach their eyes. "But they have a really good psychology department," they justified. "And they're offering scholarships, so it'll be affordable." Gabriel gave them a flat look. Amari sighed. "What do you think?"

Gabriel crossed his arms and rocked back and forth on his feet. "I think they built a college over the place you were trafficked for the first ten years of your life by my thankfully–dead dad before he almost killed you and my mom. And that was after decades of trafficking and killing thousands of more kids, among other heinous crimes."

Amari pouted at Gabriel, purposefully exaggerating their features. "But they're giving scholarships to any incoming student who was trafficked at the facility! College is expensive these days! We need to think about what's good for my wallet!"

Gabriel turned to fully face them, a deep frown etched in his face. "What do you think about physically being here, Amari? This place means more to you than it does to me."

Amari scoffed. "What are you, my therapist?"

"Nope, just your best friend. Also, you're using humor as a coping mechanism." Amari tossed their head back and groaned. Gabriel held his hands up. "You told me to call you out on your behavior!"

"I know. I did tell you to do that." Amari exhaled deeply and tilted their head back down, covering their face.

A beat of silence passed between the two. "Hey, you don't have to talk about it if you don't wanna," Gabriel reassured them. "If you want, we can just drive away, get whatever you wanna eat, and we'll leave. It's still pretty early in the day. We can do whatever we want before we meet back up with everyone else at the hotel."

"Please don't threaten me with having to make decisions," Amari groaned. Gabriel laughed. They slid their hands off their face, giving him a faint smile. "You know I'm indecisive. It's the only thing I can decide."

"Trust me, I know. But seriously, I wanna know what you think."

Amari looked out at the college. The students of Salim University were going about their day, unaware of the turmoil that shook Amari. Their voice was quiet when they finally answered. "I don't know. For so long, I wanted to distance myself from this place as much as possible. I never, in a million years, wanted to come back here, much less willingly.

"If this university hadn't been built by the parents of one of the facility kids, I never would've considered coming here for college. This place is haunted by everything that happened here—all the people it’s hurt, all the people it’s killed, all the things it’s created. The ashes of the people Dainen murdered are scattered all over this place. Nothing can take back what he did or the time he took from innocent lives.”

Amari sighed. “Look at it. This place is beautiful. This is what this place was meant for. It was supposed to be a place that helped people, but for years, it hurt and killed countless innocent people. It’s not this place’s fault it was the location of so much pain; it was because of Vita Aido, but people aren’t wrong for associating this place with hurt.” They laughed wryly. “I mean, I was about to puke just by standing here.”

They looked at Gabriel. “I’m supposed to grow from what I’ve endured, right?”

He nodded hesitantly. “Yes?”

“Well, even if I don’t wanna go to school here, I wanna at least be able to walk around without passing out from heart palpitations.” Amari took Gabriel’s hand and tugged him towards the campus. “C’mon, we came all this way. I don’t want it to be for nothing.”

Gabriel grinned. “If you’re sure.”

The two walked through the campus, admiring the way its concrete buildings incorporated the greenery around it. Plants lined the walls, growing up and down. Amari watched as birds flitted through the walkways, clearing the way for students walking or for those who rode on bikes, scooters, or skateboards. The place was vibrant, teeming with life. The only dread that seemed to be present was from the students who were rushing to get to their next class.

Though it might’ve been obvious, Amari couldn’t help but think, I can’t recognize this place.

They and Gabriel ended up at the Marian Student Union where their tour group was gathering. The two of them got their badges and headed out with the others.

Amari paid close attention to the information the tour guide gave out. Salim University was founded six years after the facility was discovered and busted, funded by parents all over the country who had children taken by Vita Aido and various other sponsors. The university specialized in psychology, social work, medical sciences, and nursing. However, it was also promising in fields such as education, engineering, and agriculture.

“After what happened with Vita Aido, Mallory and Nadir Hakim decided they wanted to build a future where children who went through such a traumatic upbringing could find a safe place to recover from that,” the tour guide explained. “They built SU to not only honor their son, but to also honor the children who were victims of Vita Aido and human trafficking worldwide.”

Amari and Gabriel’s tour group followed their guide out to an open field of grass surrounded by pine trees. The guide smiled and gestured to the field. “This is the Cassia Quad, or the CQ, or just Cassia, as nicknamed by some of the students.”

Amari nearly tripped over their feet. They named something after my code?

“It was named after the child who freed the facility, C45514,” the tour guide continued. “As we come closer, you’ll see this giant mural on the back of Hakim Hall that was actually painted by one of the former facility children, Harbin Frank. He chose Hakim Hall because it's dedicated to our counseling center and therapy clinic. It's free for students to use from 8:30 a.m. to 6 p.m. Monday through Friday and 10 a.m. to 4 p.m. on Saturday and Sunday. He said that having a past like his needed extensive recovery, and one of the things he needed the most to recover was access to counseling, which he thankfully got. It seemed fitting that the mural was painted on a building dedicated to that service.

"Every semester, before finals week, the students come to Cassia and gather in front of this mural to hold a candlelight vigil to honor the children who weren’t able to make it to this point in their lives. People leave flowers, cards, and even toys in front of the mural to honor these children who should've gotten a chance to grow up...”

When Amari saw the mural, they had to fight back tears. Children and teens—some of them carried babies—surrounded a globe. All of them stared up at it with hope in their eyes, their faces illuminated by the light radiating off the world. Behind them, souls of departed children hovered around them protectively. Some of them had their hands on the living children’s shoulders. Others had their arms wrapped around the children in some way, comforting and grounding. Above the glowing globe, a message curved around the Earth: “May we never forget, and may we never fail again.”

Amari's head went fuzzy and could only concentrate on the mural. Something about it seemed... familiar? They couldn't put their finger on what, but they wanted to figure it out.

The rest of the world and the tour passed by in a blur. Though they tried to concentrate on what was going on around them, all their mind could focus on was that image. It hammered itself into their head, leaving their ears ringing and their head spinning.

Before they knew it, the tour ended. Amari immediately made their way back to the mural, distantly aware of the fact that Gabriel was trailing behind them, watching them closely. Neither of them said a word, but Amari knew that he knew where they were taking them.

The two of them arrived at the Cassia Quad and stopped in front of mural, staring up at the work in silence. Amari studied the faces, taking in how the brush strokes created premature stress lines and grey hairs and shaped the malnourished hollowness of the living children. Amari ran their fingers over their wrist, feeling the bones that made it. They looked down, observing the way their flesh covered their joints and smoothened out their arm. We really did look like that, didn't we? they recalled.

Amari turned their gaze back to the mural. They frowned and tilted their head, squinting at it. Their eyes scanned over the faces until they zeroed in on a particular one, one that made Amari take a step back.

Their own face.

It was years younger and paler than theirs now. Their hair was stringy and limp, falling from their head like it had been glued on. Dark bags under their eyes complimented the gauntness of their face and body, their limbs sickly and their skin pulled taut over bones. But it was Amari nonetheless.

Amari's eyes followed the ghostly arms wrapped around their shoulders to a quite–literal ghost from their past. 1RM4, who Amari knew better as their friend and sister, Irma, floated with them. The mural managed to capture her kind eyes and her even–kinder smile. More importantly, they were aimed at Amari, and even though she wasn't actually there, they could still feel it as if she was.

Wherever you are, are you looking at me like that? they wondered.

"Is that her?" they heard Gabriel ask. Amari could only nod. "She'd be proud of you."

I hope so.

The two eventually made found their way back to Gabriel's car. Neither of them said anything as they opened the door and sat inside, letting the minutes trickle by. Soon, Amari felt Gabriel softly place his hand on their shoulder. “Hey, how do you feel?” he inquired.

The question punched straight through the dam Amari had built. They hunched in on themselves, bursting into tears. Gabriel immediately scooped them into a hug, gently running his hand up and down their back. The mental image of the mural—the monument—came flooding back, overwhelming Amari's mind. Every detail they remembered sent another wave of tears through them. They rocked back and forth in their seat, moving Gabriel with them.

It took a few minutes for Amari's sobs to grow quieter. “I’m sorry,” Gabriel whispered, carding his fingers through Amari's hair. “We didn’t have to come here—”

“No,” Amari cut off. They sniffled loudly and wiped their eyes and nose. “No, I needed this. I—this was great. I really needed to see this.”

“Yeah?”

Amari sniffed again and nodded. “Yeah. They—you can tell they put so much thought into this place they’ve built. I was so worried about coming here and feeling like I did back at the facility, but all I felt was seen. And I felt loved, and cared for, and I didn’t feel trapped at all.”

Amari wiped their eyes again and smiled at Gabriel. “I think I wanna go here.”

He pulled his head back to return the smile. “You do?”

Amari nodded. “Yeah. I mean, I already liked SU from what I researched about it beforehand. My biggest concern was how I was gonna feel when I came here. Now, I know I’ll be okay.” They gave Gabriel a watery giggle. “Plus, they named their quad after me, so how could I refuse?”

Gabriel laughed. “I guess that’s fair. You ready to go?”

Amari nodded again, wiping away the remainder of their tears. “Yeah, I think I deserve a good burger after crying my eyes out.”

“You sure?”

“Please don’t make me question my decisions.”

Laughing again, Gabriel started the car and pulled out of the parking lot. Amari watched through the window as Salim University faded in the distance, cementing itself as a place that they, against all odds, were excited to return to.