You turn and leave. You’re losing hope and steam. As you walk out the door, you bump into a boy dressed in black, wearing dark sunglasses. His clothing sets off alarm bells in your head. His mouth drops in surprise and he says your name.
“We’ve been looking for you, everywhere.”
“Do I know you?”
“Are you kidding? We’re inseparable. We need to get you back home. You have medication you have to take.”
“Am I sick?”
“It’s your memory. You have to take medication to keep you from losing your memory. If you don’t take it soon enough, your brain burns off all your short-term memory.”
“Yes. So c’mon. The sooner the better, or you’ll forget this, too.”
He holds out his hand. Do you go with him?