With how crazy your mind was going. You decided to write everything down, thinking it would make things clearer for you. Everything that happened in the past weeks, every significant memory you had of your childhood, of Wally. You wrote each of them on post-it notes and stuck them on your wall. And you used the yellow thread to try and connect them with each-other. You didn't get to do that much though...
They were all like puzzle pieces, but from different puzzles, almost none of them matched, in neither color nor shape.
You tried to experiment at some point. You turned on your computer and placed the Wally puppet beside it.
"...Do something." you glared at him. "It *was* you that crashed my computer, wasn't it? Do it again."
Nothing happened. You tried the same with your tv. Still nothing. You didn't know if it was a failure, or if he was being stubborn.
Maybe... If you put some blood on him, that would surely get a reaction out of him. But you categorically refused, feeling in your guts that something very bad would happen if you did.
You inspected your other toys, looking for clues. But there was nothing out of the ordinary about them. Not at first glance at least. Were they just normal toys? Was the puppet the only weird one?
Were you the only one this was happening to?
You decided to ask people online, anonymously, on a bunch of forums, if anyone else had a Wally puppet with cross cufflinks. You quickly got a bunch of responses, saying it was just like the Welcome Home concept art, but people were excited more than anything. Some even asked if you could post pictures of him.
The Welcome Home Restoration Project even sent you a private message, asking questions about that puppet and if you would allow them to have access to it, so they could post about it on their website. You left them on read.
It would seem that you were the only person in the world to own that puppet. Or any Welcome Home puppet in general.
Was that why? That couldn't just be it. You didn't get that puppet on the first day you became a fan.
But then what, what was so special about you? Maybe it was the blood thing?
You sighed, running a hand through your hair. Then, you had an idea. You grabbed your actual phone and called someone.
"...Mom?"
Your mom might have some answers. She had a better memory than you, that was for sure. Of course, one of the first things she did was guilt-tripping you about not keeping in touch with her. It was all white noise to you at this point.
"Sorry, sorry. Say, I'm on vacation right now. I was thinking of paying you a visit."
She asked when.
"Actually, the sooner the better."
"I'm so happy you remembered my existence honey." your mom cheerfully said as she poured yourselves some tea.
You just chuckled, enduring it for the sake of getting to the bottom of this once and for all.
"It's good to see you again, these past days have been crazy for me."
"Oh I'm sure they were." she said with a voice full of sarcasm.
You squinted your eyes for a quick second, and kept smiling.
"How have you been?"
"Bored and alone."
"Alone? What about your neighbor friends-"
"Oh don't talk to me about them!" she raised a hand. "Don't even say their names."
"Okay...?"
Despite asking no questions, and despite what she just said, she went on a rant about the small things those poor people did that annoyed her to an unreasonable degree.
'She really hasn't changed.' you thought.
You just nodded along, pretending to care, something you'd do only with her. You waited for an opportunity to change the subject.
"Man, the kids at the school I work at are going crazy for that one show. It's not even of their generation, I think it's something I used to watch as a kid." you pretended to think. "Welcome Home I think it was...?"
She just looked at you with a blank stare. Which was unusual for her.
"I was a fan of it, wasn't I?"
"Ha! That is the understatement of the century." she waved a hand, rolling her eyes. "You were a little freak about these puppets. You were obsessed with it, and frankly, it was disturbing."
"Oh come on, I wasn't *that*-"
"Oh you were. You'd scream and cry if I changed the channel, you'd beat up anyone who spoke ill of it. Got numerous calls from your teachers because of that. And one day, you even asked me to get you a puppet before it was even released. It was the only way to shut you up, so you were lucky I got one."
Your expression fell.
Was that really it? Was that puppet just a regular prototype? Was him and the Wally from your dreams even related? But then how did Wally know about your day-to-day life? It didn't make sense.
You leaned closer, now listening to every word she was saying.
"You even *stole* a toy phone from school one day!"
So that was why it didn't have your name on it. Because it wasn't yours in the first place! This wasn't the kind of information you were looking for, but what you've stumbled upon was even more disturbing.
When you were a child, you weren't a huge fan of the show because you didn't have any friends. You didn't have any friends *because* you were a huge fan of the show!
What kind of spell were you put under?! Did Wally charm you into obsession? Like when you stayed in bed for two days straight?
"Thankfully, it's all over and you're normal now." she sipped her tea. "I had to finally put my foot down after that thing happened."
You frowned.
"...What happened?"
Her eyes widened, like she just realized what she just said. She then looked at you with furrowed eyebrows. Another unusual thing. It gave you the hint that whatever she was talking about, it was serious.
"Oh honey... Listen, you were a young child, you were under ten years old. But... Blaming a puppet?"
"What happened mom?" you pressed.
She opened her mouth, but said nothing. There was a moment of silence, during which you were fixing her with all your might, like you were trying to silently convince her to talk. You tried really hard to remember by yourself, but you drew a blank. Being your mother, she could see it on your face. She hummed, her lips pursued.
"Believe me honey, it's best that you don't remember." she finally said, waving a hand. "Sometimes, the brain knows what's good for you."
You leaned back in your chair with a long sigh.
"Don't huff young lady. You're not a train nor a boiler."
You frowned again. Now she was just saying things she'd tell you as a kid. You were at an impasse and now you were also angry. Great.
Just then, there was a knock at the door. With a groan and a huff, she left to answer. Curious – and not surprised by that subtle play of hypocrisy – you followed behind her to see who it was. It was some religious people asking if she wanted to talk about the lord or whatever.
This was your golden opportunity. Despite being a religious woman herself, your mom found door-to-door people in general "annoying as all hell". And she was known by the neighborhood to talk the ears off of anyone, *especially* those she didn't like. This will give you plenty of time!
So while she went on yet another rant, not giving anyone a chance to speak – a really one-sided debate – you discreetly left the scene and went upstairs, to your old room. There must be something there that could give you some clearance about how it all started, ended. And maybe about "that thing" that happened too.
The furniture was still there, though it was very dusty and much less colorful than the last time you saw it. Your drawers were now full of old documents and family pictures, dating back generations before yours. You searched for childhood pictures of you, in most of them, you had a Welcome Home plushie in your hands, or you were wearing some kind of merch.
Your eyes widened when you saw child-you hugging the Wally puppet. From the scene around you, it would seem like it was a Christmas present. You checked the date, it was one year after the show premiered. You frowned. You didn't remember any of this. You'd sometimes recall upon seeing the pictures, but for the rest, it was like you saw these for the very first time. Like you were looking at someone else. You sighed and kept looking. Checking the dates on each one, you began to organize the pictures chronologically. Welcome Home was presumed to have aired between '70 and '74. So far, all pictures within that timeframe had you with at least one thing Welcome Home related. But you couldn't have stopped being a fan at the same time that the show stopped.
So you wondered, when did you stop? When did you forget?
You almost gasped when you finally found one where you had zero Welcome Home related thing with you. It was a picture of you and your mom, standing in front of the new house, so you must've just entered middle-school at the time. You didn't look as happy as you were before. That made you sad.
But then you noticed something. You had a bracelet on. You squinted your eyes and looked closer. Then you realized, that wasn't just any bracelet. That was the kind of thing they'd made you wear at a hospital.
You felt a shiver down your spine. You went to the hospital? You didn't remember anything about ever going to a hospital. Not in middle-school anyway.
Now more frantic, you searched through old medical documents instead. Anything that had your name on it.
You remembered going to the hospital once in high-school, you had an accident and you fell down the school's stairs. (Although you always believed someone pushed you.) And your mom kept nagging you about it to this day. You believed she was still salty mostly because of the medical bill.
So why would she hide the time you went there in middle-school? That was three unusual things from your mom in one day, and it began to disturb you.
But there wasn't anything dating back anywhere near the timeframe of the picture. No matter how hard you looked.
All you found was a letter, from a doctor to your mom.
'We acknowledge that your daughter's behavior prior to her stay here was erratic and hysterical.'
You felt a deep sense of unease from the bottom of your stomach. Which to you was confirmation that this was what you were looking for. You were scared to keep reading, but then you saw the word 'however'.
'However, during her first therapy session. Your child was as normal as anyone her age. Upon further analysis, we've come to a conclusive diagnose and report to you that your daughter is suffering from dissociative amnesia. From the information and the events you've told us, I do advice to not remind her of anything. For there could be a strong risk of psychological meltdown upon remembering. She shall return home safe and healthy at your earliest convenience. We strongly advice you to hide away anything that could trigger her.'
"What the fuck...?" you said under your breath.
You were sitting on a chair when you read that, you now let your hands fall to your lap, your wide eyes staring into space. This must have something to do with "that thing". You quickly read the letter again.
'Hide away anything that could trigger her.'
When you moved out, you made several trips back and forth to get your things. But you'd come here whenever the house was empty, you really didn't want to deal with your mom at the time.
If she had seen you taking away the box full of your old toys, would she have stopped you? But she must've noticed by now. Why didn't she say anything?
Maybe she thought you were old enough. "That thing" happened decades ago, you weren't even ten years old at the time. But if that was the case, why wasn't she telling you what happened? Did she just not care? Or was she still scared? Scared of what?! This was getting frustrating.
You wanted to look around more, but your time was up. You put everything away and quickly but quietly went back to the front door.
"And next time you see her, tell her I said hello." your mom said. "What's your name?"
"Ah!" the man in front flinched, shocked to finally being allowed to speak. "W-We are-"
"Eh I don't care." she closed the door on them, then turned back to you. "Can you believe these people?"
"I know right?" you nodded. "Actually mom, I'm sorry, I forgot I had things to do at home. So..." you gave her a peck on the cheek and walked passed her. "Take care, okay?"
You walked passed the door-to-door religious people and sent them an apologetic glance.
"Wait, (Y/n)."
You looked back at your mom, who was standing on the doorway, looking down at you from the porch. For a moment, she just stared at you. Like you've stolen something and she knew you did it.
"You didn't start watching that show again did you?"
You frowned, confused.
"No?"
"Well thank the Lord for that!"
And with that, she closed the door. Now alone, you blinked twice, confused. And you kept being confused on your way home.
'Watching that show *again*'?
But there was no way for anyone to watch Welcome Home. That was the whole apeal of the mystery behind it, that was what made it such a huge hit with the kids nowadays. As far as you knew, there was no recordings of it. As far as you knew... As far as you remembered- ow shit.
Your eyes widen. You felt a sudden rush of adrenaline throughout your body. You walked faster, with bigger steps.
You went home, grabbed a flashlight and went straight to your attic.
You were so caught up with the toy box that you never went back up there. It never occured to you that there were more boxes full of your old stuff. You got on your knees and hunched over them, so much so you could almost fall over, frantically looking.
Another box was full of old clothes. The only item of significance was a small pair of mittens. The tips of which were chewed off.
There was another box, full of decorations and other things that wouldn't fit in the other two. You found your old Mail-in-Time day card. It had a picture of Wally on it, holding a big pink heart.
On it was written: 'I love you! Now doesn't that make your day!'
You glared at him and tossed it away. You've been here for a while now. Cursing under your breath for taking so long, you kept looking and looking, tossing away anything cumbersome that wasn't important.
Then, you found them, at the bottom of the box, neatly stacked in the corner. With goosebumps, you took them out and used your flashlight to read the label, written with marker.
'Welcome Home'. Episode sixteen through twenty-one. One VHS tape for each episode.
You've recorded episodes of Welcome Home on tapes.
'Moral of the story: never leave something unfinished.'
You were suddenly reminded of what Wally said during that storytime 'dream'. He knew about this didn't he? He knew you've stopped looking once you found the toys.
You felt a cold shiver, along with a headache.