“I still cry on waking. I'm not sure why. I feel nothing. Nothing I can name, anyway. It's like breathing - something that happens over which I have no control. (6)”

“AwarenessThere is a dark place.A place where I have no eyes, no mouth. No words.I can't cry out because I have no breath. The silence is so deep I want to die.But I can't.The darkness and silence go on forever.It is not a dream.I don't dream.”

“Things I can feel. Hard. Soft. Rough. Smooth. But the inside kind of feel, it is all the same, like foggy mush. Is that the part of me that is still asleep? (9)”

“I used to be someone.Someone named Jenna Fox.That's what they tell me. But I am more than a name. More than they tell me. More than the facts and statistics they fill me with. More than the video clips they make me watch.More. But I'm not sure what.”

“It's the unknown that I fear, the bites of memories that still have no connections.”

“Pieces. Isn't that what all of life is anyway? Shards. Bits. Moments. Am I less because I have fewer, or do the few I have mean more?”

“He believes me. But that is nothing new. He always did because I was a rule follower. I played by the rules he understood. But there are new rules now, ones he doesn't know yet. He'll learn. Just as I'm learning.”