I never know exactly where I am. It's dark, I know that. Most of the time, the sleep is deep, and I think of nothing. But sometimes, I near the surface of wakefulness. It's then that I find myself wandering the endless maze of stairs and doors where everything looks exactly the same and nothing ever changes, except to become even more complex. I struggle to hold onto the wakefulness for as long as I can, opening as many doors as I can find. What am I looking for? I can't remember, but it feels important.

Sometimes I catch glimpses of things in the rooms I open. It's never more than a flicker, but I'll chase it for what feels like days until it finally slips just out of my grasp. Sometimes it's a person, though male or female, I can't tell. Once I found a room filled with stone tablets, carved with the reliefs of monsters and fantastic creatures whose names slip just out of reach of my mind. But they vanished quickly, and I never found them again. Sometimes I open a door to find it leading into a world of light, heat, and sand. I'll see pyramids in the distance, and an overwhelming excitement comes over me as I realize that I remember what pyramids are. But as soon as I step over the threshold to go out into that warm world, it flickers and fades, and I stand in an empty stone room once more.

Suddenly, though, the visions are coming clearer, and the periods of awakeness are longer. When I open a door, I look out into a small, well lit room with rows of small tables and chairs, and something black hanging on one wall that has white writing on it. I'm not surprised when it fades, but I am surprised when I hear voices behind me. The sound shocks me – I can't remember the last time I heard someone's voice.

I can't make out the words, but when I turn, I can catch more than a glimpse. It's a boy, shorter than me, with dark spiky hair and face framing gold bangs. His eyes are round, violet, and warm with happiness. He sits at one of the tables I saw before, a golden box before him. He opens it, and his mouth moves, but I can't hear his voice. Piece by piece, he takes out its contents: golden puzzle pieces. One piece in particular calls to me, but I dare not move closer in case the vision vanishes. It gleams with a strange, golden eye, and the boy tries unsuccessfully to fit the pieces together.
A second person steps into the vision beside him, a girl with short brown hair and kind eyes. She appears to talk too, but I can't hear her words. Behind them, two more figures appear: a boy with pointy brown hair and another boy with shaggy blond hair. The blond boy grabs one of the pieces of the puzzle and looks at it dubiously, then the girl with brown hair snatches it back with a glare and gives it back to the spiky haired boy.

I can't help myself. I take half a step forward, willing myself to hear the words.

But the vision vanishes, as I expected it to. However, I gain one very important revelation – one snippet of conversation that had to be a name.

"Yugi..."

"Yugi," I whisper, surprised by the sound of my own voice.

I start to sink back into the darkness of dormancy, but this time, I don't fight it. I feel a lessening of the darkness around me, a weakening of the hold on my mind. The dawn is breaking. I can feel it.

"Yugi," I whisper again, just before I fall back into sleep.

"I wonder...if that's my name..."