Falling. That’s about the only thing I remember.
Falling, then a sudden blackness. Then someone screaming my name. And then, then there’s nothing. Absolutely nothing at all.
I wake up, and at first I think it was all a dream.
Then I realise that I have no idea what the dream would have been - and what I would’ve woken up to. Because I have no idea where I am.
And, I realise with terror that I have no idea who I am.
There is a big blue skye stretching out above me. Endless, it looks endless. The sun is shining, it stings my eyes, but not my skin.
I’m laying down, I realise. Flat on my back on a bed of gravel. I look around. I’m on a playground.
There’s steps approaching. Quiet, slow steps that stops before me. And then there’s a face blocking the sun.
A boy. Fourteen, maybe, with round eyes and eyebrows lowered, like I’m a math problem he’s trying to calculate. He blinks, and his face clears, like he’s suddenly gotten his answer.
“You’re my friend,” he says.
“I’m not,” I say, sitting up. “I don’t know you.”
He just keeps staring at me, like he isn’t able to process my answer. His jaw is clenched, his fists closed, and he’s breathing hard, and I think he might explode any moment.
“My name is Max,” the boy says. “What is your name?”
“I’m-”
That’d when I realise that I don’t know. I know I have a name, but it’s gone. Trying to grasp it is like trying to hold water in the cup of your palms. I try to remember the name someone screamed, right before I got it, but no matter how hard I try, it’s not coming to mind.
“I don’t know,” I whisper to the boy. Because he’s there, and I see no point in lying to him.
“Then I will call you Tero,” he says, still with that stiff, staring look on his face. I wonder is he even has facial expressions. “Your name is Tero, and you are my friend.”
I finally manage to get on my feet.
“No,” I say. “You can’t do that-”
He turns on the spot, starts walking. The gravel flies around his feet again. Kick, kick, kick.
I go after him, because I have no other place to go. I don’t know where I am, I have no idea how to get home - I can’t even remember where home is.
“Wait,” I say, laying a hand on his shoulder to stop him. He does. “I need to borrow your phone.”
He turns around, faces me, still with that expression I figure is his standard one.
“Of course I will let you borrow my phone, Tero. That is what friends do.” He reach into his jean pocket, takes out a phone, the whole time with his those intense eyes locked with mine. His whole being makes me feel uneasy.
I reach for the phone and-
And my outstretched fingers slides right through it.
So I try again, with the same result - the object simply refuses to let be grab a hold of it.
I back away from the phone, from him, refusing to believe it. Refusing to even stop for a moment to consider what’s going on, or why it is happening. Instead I find my way back into the playground, to the swings. I close my eyes as I sit on one of them, hoping for it to not let me just fall through it.
