We Are A Family

That night, I refuse to move away from my bed. Not because it's warm or anything like that. It's just my life is literally upside down right now. A family I knew all my life is gone, and a grandmother that I haven't met for like ten years replaces them.

My ċhėst hurts.

I cast my eyes at the window while my back is resting on the bed. There's a lot of stars tonight, surprisingly. "What if I never get to meet them again?" Perhaps that's the way it's going to be. My memories of them are still intact, vivid images of their faces plaster at the forefront of my mind.

"Mom. . . Dad," I mutter. "Freda. Where did you all go?"

A few knocks on my door snaps me into focus.

"Klaus, I've prepared dinner," Grandma said.

"I'm not hungry, Grandma!"

"Are you sure? You seem out of it today."

My stomach responds to that. Well, it wouldn't hurt I guess.

"I've cooked something special today. It's your favorite."

"Oh."

I follow her tracks into our kitchen, taking my seat at the dining table. "Woah. Is somebody coming over?"

My question is logical, you know. When there's a clay pot filled with all sorts of vegetables and meat in front of me, there should be at least two more persons other than us there.

"No, Klaus. It's just us. That's why I said it's special," said Grandma. She hands me a bowl of rice and I take it from her.

"I know you're not going to use the chopsticks." She put a pair of spoon and fork near my bowl.

Now, perhaps if a Japanese is watching me eating right now, he or she would flip the heck out of me. One does not use a spoon and a fork when you're in Japan, especially in public. But my habit from German is dominant, rendering me unable to use chopsticks to eat. I'm forced to use the standard utensils someone would expect from an ordinary citizen in an ordinary country.

But Grandma's use of chopsticks makes me feel more miserable than ever.

I'm halfway to my bowl of rice when I stop. Clearly, I need some answers. "Grandma," I call.

"Where's Freda? And Mom, and Dad?" I ask.

Her frown turns into a sharp glare. "This is not a joke, Klaus. And I'm hoping that you're not making one right now."

Her response is unexpected. I had thought that in this dream, they are back in German and whatnot. But I need to know what happened to them.

She seems to notice the confusion in my expression and relents a bit. "Did you forget?"

I nod with the most serious face I can make.

Grandma sighs. "They died in an accident."

I shake my head at what Grandma said. "What?! So. . . it was true after all!"

"What do you mean, Klaus?"

"They died in a car crash. Is that correct, Grandma?"

"I mean, that huge truck--"

"They died in a plane crash," interjected Grandma. "You are only four years old back then when Gregory decided to travel. He brought Freda and Lizzy with him. You don't want to go, so I had to go here, to Osaka, to take care of you. . . and it happened."

"What?"

That's completely different from what I knew. My family is dead, due to a plane crash?

My logic and knowledge are not going to work in that dream. Perhaps, if I sleep, this stupid nightmare will go away.

"But, how about Freda's room? It's not there, upstairs," I said.

"Hmm? No, we moved here, Klaus. What's gotten into your head? Gregory rented a house back in Okinawa when you first arrived in Japan," replies Grandma.

"O-Oh." The history in that dream is different. Right now, I'm an orphan.

"You know," Grandma continues, "I think you need some rest, Klaus. Tomorrow, you don't have to go to school. I won't stop you if you want to."

A few minutes are all that's needed for me to finish my meal, and I walk back to my room.

"It's so different. . ." I said.

My knowledge of the past seems to have no use in this dream. Maybe, just maybe, if I sleep, it will be over soon.

"Yes! That's it!"

Hope is there within my grasp after all. I can be saved from this nightmare.

My plain, blue blanket now feels warmer than before. And no, it's not because of a certain ammonia smell coming from my mattress.

Not. At. All.

At least, this night is not that kind of night.

So I close my eyes, hoping for the better tomorrow. I mean, a better reality that is.

. . .

Sunshine hugs me. No, it's burning my face.

I sit at the side of my bed and looks at the door.

It's my own room.

Check.

I stand up and rushes downstairs, hoping to see the faces of Dad, Mom, and Freda.

"Freda--"

And, reality slaps me hard in the face.

"Klaus. . . I thought you're not going to school? Well, have some breakfast," Grandma said.

She wears a school uniform with that same logo my blazer has. Which is the Yokoyama Ichi Junior High. Her unusually large, round glasses catch my attention, along with that shoulder-length dark hair.

She's not pretty, at least by my standard. But that's too optimistic for me since I never have a standard for how gorgeous a girl my age should look like, to begin with.

"Klaus. Grandma said you're not coming to school today? And you didn't come yesterday too," that girl said, her delicate hands are holding an egg sandwich. Her expression changes to that of a cautious person. "Why are you looking at me like that?"

"WHO ARE YOU?!" I yell.

Grandma put down her sandwich and squints at me. "Klaus, what's wrong with you? You don't remember Aoi, too? She's your classmate."

I remember a certain 'Aoi' in my classroom, but the one sitting there casually eating my sandwich is not that Aoi. Her height is about 155 cm from where I see it, compared to my 171 cm.

"M-My classmate?" I mumble. Ah, yes. Grandma did mentioned her name yesterday.

Aoi bites the last piece of her sandwich and strains her eyes at me. "You're coming to school, today? You don't look like you're up to it. Amnesia?"

"No, it's just. . . it doesn't make sense."

"Huh. Well, if you're coming, I'll be waiting outside. It's only seven thirty right now." Aoi grabs her school bag and walks past me.

Grandma raises her eyebrow. "You don't have to come--"

"No, I'll go. I want to know where school is," I said.

"Okay. . ." Grandma doesn't convinced that I'm not sick but I'll leave that for her to sort out on her own.

I take a five-minute shower and put on my clothes fast, taking into consideration that I'm wearing my watch this time.

"Took you long enough." Aoi is waiting for me outside, with that wary expression of hers.

Okay, now I can ask her the questions I have in my mind.

I walk beside her as we go to Yokoyama Ichi Junior High, but I keep a safe distance away.

"Why're you so far from me?" Aoi said.

"Er, nothing. Not because it's the first time I've met you or anything."

"You're weird today. I guess you eat something bad that you even forgot about me. And that you didn't come to school yesterday."

I blink at her statement. "How do I usually. . . act?"

She casts a sideways glance at me. "As I thought. You're suffering from amnesia."

"No. I'm not," I deny. Come to think of it. I haven't asked her full name yet. Perhaps she's someone I knew, and I didn't have the chance to meet her before.

"What's your full name, Aoi?" I ask.

"Hmm. Since you have amnesia, I'll help clear things out for you," Aoi continues, "Aoi Akeno. That's my name."

Never heard of that name. What surprised me more is that she's so calm. Unusually calm at dealing with my situation here.

"How do I know you?" I ask again.

"Classmate. Since elementary school," she replies.

"Oh. . . okay. You're so calm, Aoi."

"Is that so? I'm usually like this. When your life is filled with boredom, you just don't have any mood to put so much energy in anything."

I nod. "I can see that." I notice that I refer to her as Aoi, which is her first name, rather than Akeno. Since we've known since elementary school, at least that's what she said, I guess we're pretty close? Not sure how close, but best friends might suit the term well.

"Can I call you Akeno? I feel weird suddenly calling you by your first name," I said.

Her brown eyes glint. "How so? We usually call each other using first names since elementary school, Klaus. I suggest you keep that notion at the back of your mind."

"Yeah, you're right." But the problem is I don't have those memories, Aoi. I might as well just play the part of an amnesiac person.

I look up ahead, and sure enough, there's that crossover bridge. If I use that, then my former junior high school is within reach--

"Ow," I mutter.

Someone bumps into me and I shoot my eyes at that person. "Sorry, my fault."

I realize that it's a 'she.' The girl is wearing a uniform quite similar to Aoi's. Which is our junior high school's uniform. Her black hair is tied into a ponytail with her blue eyes wide open, staring straight into mine.

Wait.

She looks. . . familiar.

The girl hastily turn her head away and starts to run at the opposite direction from where I'm heading.

"Hey! Wait!" I shout.

"Klaus, what are you--"

I run after the girl, pushing through the incessant crowds of people. "I said wait!"

She's not that fast which is to be expected. After all, that girl looks like Freda, my younger sister. Her physical traits are lower than average due to her frail body.

"Hey!" I grab her shoulder and she turns around, her ponytail swishes in return.

"It is you. . ." Somehow, tears fall from my eyes. For these two days, I kept thinking that I'm insane. Or that I'm in a dream. Now that I know I do not fall into one of those two theories, this world is the reality.

A reality where Freda, is a different person entirely.

"Freda!" I call. "It's you!"

Her mouth gapes at the sight of me. Perhaps she does remember me.

"Let go of me!" Freda pushes my body and I stumble. "Who are you?!"

"What? You don't remember me?"

I'm confused. That word is an understatement. Actually, I'm completely baffled. My own sister doesn't have any memory of me?

"Freda--"

"Don't come near me again!" Freda yell.

With that, she runs away to the direction she's heading.

"Klaus, what happened to you?" said Aoi, approaching me.

"I don't know either. . . I feel like I'm just getting tortured right now."

Aoi releases her breath and offers to help me stand back up, which I refuse.

I stand on my two feet and look at Aoi, who's being more wary at my supposed strange behavior. And I understand, in the fact that I'm clueless of what is really happening to me. And what kind of world I'm living in right now.