After a few short moments of deliberation, you realize your need for answers outweighs your fear. You sprint down the street towards the laboratory.
You enter the lab. Faces turn towards the doorway you occupy. Familiar faces, but clouded, like you've seen them in a dream...or a nightmare. You straighten your back. Somehow you know if you show any weakness, they will pounce.
You stand, staring at the people shrouded in stark white lab coats, silent electricity sweeping through the space holding them from you.
"So," a man says, standing slowly from the back of the crowd, his is the only face that doesn't look familiar, "You've come home."
His hair is sprinkled with salt. He's older than the others. Maybe that's why he spoke first, why he's the only one standing. He looks tired. His eyes hold yours. You search for a memory of his face. Nothing comes. You know nothing of the home he speaks about.
You know nothing of home.
You simply stare at him in silent apprehension, waiting for him to speak. Or attack. You remind yourself to be on guard.
Takes a small step forward, careful to keep eye contact. He looks more than tired now. Almost sad.
"You don't remember me." It's not a question, but more of an answer. He seems to know now why you stand at a distance, at attention.
The answer doesn't seem to console him, though. Quite the opposite. He looks at you more desperately now, as if silently begging you to remember him. You don't.
You find your voice for the first time since seeing them, the mass of serious faces plastered against white lab coats.
"I am here to find answers." Your voice shakes more than you expect.
"And, my son, I'm here to give them to you."
You remember.
The End.
- s.s.
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