Alive

Someone Just Like Me

I open my eyes. My body is stiff and not at all chubby like it's supposed to be.

My eyes adjust to the light, and I stare into a bright white emptiness, and then look at my arm. It looks the way a human arm is supposed to, but I know I am not human. I can feel it in my bones. Or, I guess, not bones.

Probably more like metal bars.

Yes, I can feel it in my metal bars. Except, that doesn't sound right.

With an exasperated sigh that sounds too humane, I sit up and look around. I'm laying on a bed. I am the only thing in the room, besides the bed; the walls and floors are white and barren. I don't know why, but somehow, I feel like that, too: barren. Exposed.

Alone.

Suddenly, three people come barging into the room. I catch a glimpse of the world beyond the door through which they come, and it is significantly less white.

One person is an Asian man with lab-safety attire on. The other two are younger, about my age. Or, what would have been my age had I been human. One is an African-American female with concern in her eyes; she looks as though she's been crying.

The last of the three is also male, but he is a Caucasian, or, put more simply, he is white. He also looks very worried, and his hands look all bruised, though there is no trace that he has been crying.

"Hello?" I say, though it is really more of a question.

"Hello," the Asian man says. "I am Yogoyoshi."

The other two give him odd looks, so hastily he adds, "But you can call me Goshi."

"Takyi, are you okay?" The female asks, stepping closer to me.

I sit up straighter.

"Who is Takyi?" I ask.

Her face falls.

I don't want to see her sad, and I almost lie and tell her I was joking. Clearly she thinks I am Takyi, and I don't to disappoint her, but I do not want to lie either. In an attempt to lighten the mood, I ask, "What's your name?"

This backfires. Tears are now evident in her eyes, but she tries to smile them away.

"Um, I'm uh, Nakya. I'm Nakya."

"Nice to meet you." I say, and she backs away, not able to hold her tears back anymore. In her place, the male steps forward.

"Takyi, you have to remember. Please."

"Remember what?" I'm starting to get slightly angry. "I need your guys' help here."

His eyes widen then, but I don;t know why. He leans toward Goshi and whispers something in his ear, and despite his efforts to stay quiet, I hear what he says:

"That's almost exactly what Takyi said when we gathered to help out with the investigation and everything with Carlos."

This sentence should not have meaning to me; I should understand anything he's saying, but for some reason it all sounds horribly familiar.

"That could mean that some of the memory that Takyi lost is coming back. We didn't sync the their brains, so I can't promise anything; we may just have to fill in for anything that isn't remembered." The man, Goshi, whispers back.

At this, Ross looks even more excited, as if this meek news is the best thing he's heard all week.

"Takyi!" He says, coming back over to the side of my bed. "My name is Ross. We met at Hilda Junior High the first day of school. We were both starting seventh grade, and the day we met, I gave you a tour of the building.