Your smile is a lie in response to my greeting. Your lips drawn up so high I see the picture reflect on your glistening white teeth. You lie in silence. You lie through your teeth. You do not remember me, I know.
I hand you your medicine and a red half-full plastic cup.
"Here you go, Annie." I say. "Drink up."
Yesterday, I called you Zuko and you responded with that lie of smile.
You receive both with leafy hands, spilling water on your pink dress. You mutter a thank you then call the pills; Rhea, Luca and Blue.
You have told me before that they are your best friends in the whole wide world. I know this is true to you even though the "whole wide world" is just this building you will never leave and that your siblings in the other rooms share those names. You haven't completely forgotten them...yet.
You wolf everything down.
I take back the cup and leave the room, pushing the heavy bolt in place. I walk away, whistling.
Your best friends make you forget.