Clone. It's what I am, I know this. I just don't like being reminded.
My body was grown in a lab. My thoughts implanted by machines I don't understand. I am not who I think I am. Regina Ortiz died three years ago. I'm just her shadow. It's easy to forget. Easier sometimes to let myself forget.
"Hmm, are you all right?" the doctor asks in an uncommon show of empathy.
"Yeah, just tired from being comatose and brain dead."
He nods and scribbles something else on his note pad. "Well when you're ready we can begin."
"Sure thing doctor. Fire away."