“The people who made you forget everything.”
I repeated that sentence in my head.
For a few seconds, I simply stared at the woman in front of me. Her hand was still gripping my arm, as though something terrible would happen if she let go.
“Who are they?” I asked.
The woman didn’t answer right away.
She looked toward the hallway behind me.
Empty.
And yet, for some reason, the hairs on the back of my neck stood up.
“We don’t have much time.”
She pulled me along.
I followed her out of the room without a chance to think. We hurried down the hallway, which was lit by only a few dim lights. The sound of our footsteps was unnaturally clear in the silence.
“Where are we going?”
“Somewhere they don’t know about.”
“Who are they?”
“If I tell you now, you might not believe me.”
“I have the right to know.”
The woman stopped.
She stared at me for a long time.
“I used to say the same thing.”
I frowned.
“What do you mean?”
“Back then, before you forgot me.”
My heart began beating faster.
Before I could ask anything else, I heard a door opening at the end of the hallway.
The woman immediately pulled me behind a small door beside us.
We hid in a cramped room that looked as though it hadn’t been used in a long time.
“Quiet,” she whispered.
I held my breath.
Through the crack in the door, I saw two people walk past in the hallway.
Their uniforms were identical.
I recognized those uniforms.
My school uniform.
But something was strange.
They didn’t speak. They didn’t look at each other. They simply walked straight ahead, as though someone had given them an order.
One of them stopped.
His head slowly turned toward the door where we were hiding.
I instinctively backed away.
The woman beside me covered my mouth with her hand.
“Don’t move.”
Several seconds passed.
The person finally started walking again.
The sound of their footsteps grew fainter.
I let out a sigh of relief.
“Do you believe me now?”
I looked at the woman.
“Not yet.”
She smiled faintly.
“Good.”
I was even more confused.
“Why is that good?”
“Because if you believed me right away, it would mean your memory still hadn’t fully returned.”
She opened a small door behind us.
Behind it was a staircase leading downward.
“We’re going down.”
“Where?”
“To the place where you first discovered the truth.”
I fell silent.
“I’ve been here before?”
“Not here.”
She descended the stairs.
“Below the school.”
I followed.
The farther down we went, the colder the air became. The walls on either side were covered in scribbles and scratch marks. Some of them looked like handwriting.
I shone my phone’s light on them.
Then I stopped.
One sentence made me freeze.
DON’T TRUST YOUR OWN MEMORY.
I stared at the writing.
“Did I write this?”
The woman nodded.
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because you already knew by then.”
“Knew what?”
She didn’t answer.
We continued walking until we reached an iron door.
The woman took a small key from her pocket.
But before inserting it into the keyhole, she said,
“There’s something inside you need to see.”
“What?”
“Proof.”
“Proof of what?”
“That everything you’ve remembered all this time might not be reality.”
The key turned.
Click.
The door slowly opened.
The room beyond it was much larger than I expected.
A long table stood in the middle of the room.
Dozens of photographs lay on top of it.
I stepped closer.
The first photograph showed the school grounds.
The second showed several students.
The third made my feet stop.
I saw myself.
But I wasn’t alone.
The woman who was with me now stood beside me.
We were smiling at the camera.
I stared at the photograph for a long time.
“I don’t remember this picture at all.”
“Because they made you forget.”
I picked up the next photograph.
There were pictures of us in the library.
On the field.
In front of the classroom.
Even in a room I didn’t recognize at all.
Then I found one photograph that was different.
It showed me standing in front of a door.
Three people stood behind me.
One of them was this woman.
The other two faces had been deliberately crossed out with black ink.
A date was written at the bottom of the photograph.
I recognized that date.
The date everyone said I’d been in an accident.
My hands trembled.
“This…”
“Yes.”
“I wasn’t in an accident, was I?”
The woman was silent.
I looked at her.
“Answer me.”
She drew a long breath.
“You were found in front of the school that night.”
“That’s not my question.”
She lowered her head.
“I failed.”
The room suddenly felt completely silent.
I walked toward the table at the far end.
There was a black folder there with my name written on it.
I opened it.
The first page contained only one sentence.
SUBJECT SUCCESSFULLY REMEMBERS.
Today’s date was written beneath it.
I froze.
“Why is the date today?”
The woman didn’t answer.
I turned to the next page.
There was a picture of me.
A very recent picture.
I was standing in my room.
Reading.
Sleeping.
Walking down the hallway.
All the pictures had been taken from different places.
Someone had been watching me.
All this time.
I turned to the last page.
There was no photograph.
Only a sheet of paper.
The handwriting on it made my chest tighten.
I recognized it.
It was my own handwriting.
If you’re reading this, it means they already know you remember. Don’t trust anyone. Not even the woman who brought you here.
I slowly raised my head.
The woman was still standing near the door.
Her face had gone pale.
“What does it say?” she asked.
I didn’t answer.
For the first time since meeting her, I took a step back.
She noticed.
“Why are you backing away?”
I clenched the paper tightly in my hand.
“Because I found something.”
“What?”
I looked into her eyes.
“You’re not the person who tried to save me.”
Her expression instantly changed.
“What?”
“You’re one of them.”
The woman fell silent.
Then I heard the iron door behind her lock.
Click.
I turned around.
Two people stood behind the small window in the door.
School uniforms.
Blank stares.
And one of them smiled.
The woman in front of me began to cry.
“I didn’t have a choice.”
I backed away again.
“Who are they?”
She looked at me with terrified eyes.
“The people who’ve been making you forget everything.”
The room’s lights suddenly went out.
In the darkness, I heard footsteps.
One.
Two.
Three.
Drawing closer.
Then a voice whispered right behind my ear.
“Welcome back.”