How would you feel when you see yourself with people you don't remember, when you see yourself brimming with joy, but you've never experienced that emotion before? For me it was all simply weird. This girl in the photograph definitely looked like me, but it's not me. I know it's not me. Though all this sucks, but I can definitely make use of this situation.
'So supposedly this is my family and this old lady is my grandma. Well then, problem solved.' I thought because now I'll have a place to live. And in the meantime I'll try to find out about things that will be helpful, until I fully understand what the heck is going on.
While in the orphanage, I learnt quite a bit about myself, well…about the version of me that people here remembers. All the children in the orphanage knew me. They told me that the people in the photograph in my Grandma's office were my parents, but they passed away in a car accident some three years ago and since then I had been living with grandma, who runs this orphanage.
This orphanage was actually started by my grandfather, but he left this world due to a cardiac arrest and Grandma carried on with his work.
The children knew many general things, however, I noticed one problem with everyone-none of them remember anything in detail. They know about me but the descriptions were very vague. For example, they knew my name but couldn't recall my family name. Even in the school, I am registered just as Arya. Nobody in the school knows what my last name is.
I tried asking grandma, but she just said we didn't have a last name. That's weird. I also tried to find out about any specific incidents in my life here, but there's nothing. It seemed like all I ever did was sleep, wake up, eat, go to school and repeat. There was nothing except that. This was complete nonsense! How can a person even live like that? It was clear that their memories had been distorted.
Anyways, I decided to act normal and blend in.
…
"Arya hurry up! You are late for school." I heard Grandma shout at me. It was the first day of my senior year at Amber International School, but to me it hardly mattered. Senior year or not, I won't compromise on my sleep and comfort- the only two thing I really like about this world 'cause everything else is pretty messed up.
It has been two months since I woke up in this world and there hasn't been any significant improvement in my knowledge of my situation. Except for few explanations from Mr. Crocker Mark, our Physics teacher. Ever since I came here, he was the only one to notice that something was wrong.
Few weeks back, when I asked him if he has found out anything new regarding why this happened, he said, "Arya, all I could find was that your memories have been erased purposefully and that you had a life before all this. But as to why this happened is something beyond my strength and level. I'm sorry I can't be of help anymore than this."
I don't know why but it seemed as if he didn't tell me everything and was holding something back. I decided not to push him. Whenever I talked to Crocker about this, he always mentioned something about 'Vox', 'level' or things like that, but every time I asked he would change the topic of discussion and try to dodge this question every time. I don't know if it's just in my head or what, but I don't have a good feeling about this.
If there had been any good news in the last one month then it is that I am not totally a loser as everyone here told me when I asked them what they remember about me. I won't say I am good in academics, but yes I'm a pretty decent learner. I'm also good socially and have made quite a few friends. I decided to make the most of my time here. Even though I am living someone else's life and that this is not my identity, I am still here and while I'm here I might as well enjoy.
I got ready and rushed downstairs, where, in the main hall breakfast was already served and all the kids of the orphanage were seated there, having a hearty meal. Indeed, it's difficult to resist meals cooked by Sheron. She is a really nice and social lady and is a volunteer at our orphanage. She cooks for us and doesn't even get paid for cooking such a five-star quality food.
I jumped to my chair and had chocolate pancakes to my heart's content. The pancakes were fluffy, chocolaty and light. It had a perfect balance of sweetness and salt and the caramel toppings, that are made from a special recipe, just rocketed it to a whole another level. I had my breakfast and left for school, pretty sure my day would be same as everyday, little did I know what was in store for me.
I reached school late and was held back for punishment. It happened so often that I now have a chair booked in the row where the late comers were punished. I sat down and waited to heed further instructions.
The basketball coach, M. Hamel, was in-charge today for giving us our tasks. He was a tall, muscular man in his late thirties. He had caramel complexion and army-styled hair cut. He looked intimidating, but was actually very gentle.
"Take ten laps of the basketball ground!" he instructed.
Okay, I take back that I ever said he was gentle. We did as he instructed. I actually preferred this than the language classes we had and so, deliberately come late to miss the language class that is the very first lecture.
The rest of the day went on as usual. The school administration really thinks that we are machines or have supernatural powers. They make us work till our deaths. Thank God I don't take their instructions seriously or else I would have died the very next day I came here.
But Chester sees things differently. He is utterly devoted towards his studies and wants to garner favor with the teachers. I don't like when he act like that, but he's still my friend.
Everything always is normal, except for Becky. She always tried to pick fights with me and while I was pretty sure I never started the fight, nobody ever believed me and just followed her words like some written manual. In the last few weeks, I have grown to hate her. I was trying to avoid her, but she seemed to follow me everywhere I went.
The school ended and I as soon as I walked out of the school gate, someone grabbed my bag and pulled me aside. I turned and saw Becky, but she didn't look like her usual self. Usually, whenever she saw me she had this wicked and mischievous look in her eyes, but today it was different. She had a grave look on her face.
"Did you meet someone strange while your way to school today?" she asked.
'Why? why does she care?' these were the only thoughts in my head and I didn't want to give her what she wanted, but she really did look serious. I had no choice, but to answer all the questions she asked.
"No. Why do you ask?"
"Listen, I don't know what that Crocker Mark has told you, but don't believe him. No matter what, just don't trust him. There is something terrible happening. I'm sorry I couldn't get to you sooner, but I need you to trust me. Follow me."
And with that she held my hand and dragged me with her.