Chapter 1

It started two months ago. I had the summer off from college and figured I’d visit my hometown since it’s been a long school year and I missed seeing all the faces I grew up with. It was always such a nice yearly road trip for me, driving back home from campus, which alone was so worth the 4 hours because of just how scenic the road was. I won’t bore you with the details, but just like always, the trip was as relaxing as it’s been the past two summers I’ve made it.

The first thing that struck me as odd was my mother taking a second to recognize me when I knocked on the door, but I figured that it was early in the morning, and she just had some sleep left in her eyes. No big deal, and I just assumed that my dad was under the same pretense. Like I said, no biggie. It was only later in the day when they also had a hard time remembering things they obviously should’ve remembered about me, like the way I’ve always liked my eggs, that I began getting just a bit anxious. Again, I tried my hardest not to dwell too much on it, but this time was definitely much harder to sweep under the rug. After breakfast I decided to make the best of the early day and go around town, maybe say hi to my neighbours or maybe pop into the convenience store I always snuck off to whenever I had the spare change to buy myself a little treat as a kid. Sure enough, it was already open so I opened the door, expecting to be greeted with the same “heya buddy” that I’d grown accustomed to.

I waved my hand and asked him how he was doing, and I was excited to catch up with him while I looked for a few snacks to get myself. But all I got in return was a rather blank “morning”. The same kind you might hear when ordering a morning coffee at whatever coffee shop you go to. What the hell was going on? So naturally I said his name and told him that it was me and that I was back again for the summer, and I could see the gears in his head turning, trying to figure out who the hell I was. Only after he stared at me for a few more seconds did he finally remember, and yet he still sounded a little unsure.

Now normally I’d be willing to chalk it up to maybe his old age finally getting to him, but this happening right after this morning with my parents? It was a hell of a coincidence, and not one I wanted to become a pattern. I made some small talk, but needless to say I was uneasy the whole time. I bought my snacks, paid, and wished him a good rest of his day before leaving in a bit of a hurry. My heart was racing a little, and I wasn’t sure if it was the lack of sleep that was making me overthink this much, but something felt so off.

I spent the rest of the morning and most of the afternoon cooped up in my old bedroom, messaging my college friends and doomscrolling to get my mind off of whatever was or wasn’t going on. Lunch and dinner that first day were a little awkward, but by the end of the night, my parents seemed to be perfectly normal again and I began to finally relax. Maybe it was just my mind playing tricks on me from exhaustion and making me assume the worst.

I wished my folks goodnight and went to bed, willing to just pretend today was an off day and that everything would be fine tomorrow.

The next few weeks went by without much issue, with only some other people in town that should’ve recognized me having that same struggle at first before everything fell back in place. It wasn’t until the first week of June that it started again. Except this time my parents were having a harder time remembering me than the first time. Same thing at the convenience store, and again with all the neighbours. Our town wasn’t exactly a big town, and all these families have been here for generations, including mine. There was no reason for them to all have a hard time recognizing me, especially since I was literally here last year. At first I thought it was just a few people here and there, but the more people I talk to, the more I realize that it might be everyone. Everyone in the town. Not just shop owners or the odd neighbour or two, but even my old babysitter that always teased me for having a permanent blush on my face as a kid, and my middle school baseball coach that was like an uncle to me.

I felt like a complete stranger in my own home, and it was really messing with me now. I took my things and left home to stay in a motel just out of town to just gather myself and try and figure out just what the hell happened to everyone. I’d be lying if I said being away helped, since I cried myself to sleep at least once every few nights from the sheer anxiety of it all. It really sucks to see the eyes of people from your childhood looking at you like you were someone they’d never met, especially your own parents. Any time I’ve gone back into town to try and talk to people, it’s become increasingly harder and harder to get them to recognize and remember me. Hell, it won’t even click for some people anymore. It’s like I just… Stopped existing in their minds completely, as if I was just never there. They look at me like I’m crazy for insisting so much that I used to come over during lunch every now and then with their son, or that I helped repair their fence when I accidentally crashed into it with my bike. All these memories, and yet they became one-sided.

I still have another two months until I can go back to my dorm and honestly I’m not sure what to do anymore.