They all knew my name. They all knew my face. I knew none of theirs. So many people…why did they all know me?

Kiku…Kiku are you okay? Can you hear me?

There was not a single doctor among them, so the possibility of them knowing my identity through medical records was out of the question. It was worrying to see everyone in the room look so concerned when I could say nothing to comfort them. After all, I could not just ask who they were, not when they seemed to know me so well. It was a relief beyond imagination when a doctor did finally walk in, because he had the resources to know me without meeting me, and that offered some comfort for reasons I did not know. He distracted the crowd, even though they still shot nervous glances back at me every so often while the demanded answers.

He's awake doctor, so why isn't he talking? Is he okay? Did something go wrong?

I admired the calm façade which the doctor managed to put on throughout his bombardment. A part of me pitied him; another wanted to know what was going on. The doctor turned to me, his cat green eyes sparkling with friendly worry, as if he knew a reason for the situation, but was hoping that he was wrong.

"Hello, Kiku. My name is Dr. Kirkland. Are you feeling any better?"

I nodded, amazed by the silence that filled the room when the man spoke. It was as if his voice were a magic spell under which the entire room had fallen – I included.

"Do you recognise anyone here?"

I shook my head, and that was when the spell broke. A flood of worried and confused questions and demands came at both me and the doctor.

But I'm his brother, he has to recognise me aru!

Kiku, sweetheart, don't you recognise me at all?

It all seemed so out of this world. Those men could not be my brother and my boyfriend. I would recognise them both.

"He's suffering from amnesia; it could be years before he begins to recall anything."
Amnesia. It had been a stupid fear of mine since I was a teenager. The idea of waking up and remembering so little about yourself…it did not even bear thinking about. But as I realised that I knew nothing beyond my name and age, it dawned on me that the doctor was right. The reality horrified me and shook me to my very core. The private hospital room I was in was filled with my friends and family and yet none of them registered in my mind. I tried to recall what had happened to me the day before, and nothing came up. Just how little I knew scared me and I wanted it all to dissolve away, like a bad dream. I longed to wake up and find myself able to look at someone and know them.

It seemed like years before they left, and I had been told so much. I learned that the woman in the far right was my sister, born just two years after I was. And several of the men around me were also my brothers. I was told my birthday, and the birthday of my boyfriend. He told me how we met, how long we had been together and even showed me pictures. We seemed so happy, and all of that was gone.

He must have received severe blows to the head during the collision…

I was in a car crash while driving home from work, or so I was told. I had no idea I even had a job. But I must have; these people would not lie to me…would they? Was this all just a cruel game to confuse and mock me? I feared that all this concern was just a sick, twisted game played by sick, twisted people. I could have been a pawn in their almost sadistic enjoyment, and I would not know any better. I was disgusted with myself. I had to trust these people; some of them were in tears because I did not know them. How could I suspect them?

I had been left alone with the doctor so that we could discuss my 'condition' – as they all referred to it as – in private. But it was no use, the entire Government could have been in my room as far as I was concerned, after all, it was not as if I would recognise them. And I felt so numb, so clueless and so afraid. He said it could take years before I remember my life again, if I ever remember at all. I may never be able to reclaim everything I had worked so hard to achieve. All the photographs that lay neatly stored around my house would lose their meanings. The tears…the smiles…everything, gone in a matter of seconds. It seemed so unfair, not just to me, but to everyone who knew me. Another burden I carried was that I could wake up again and be back to square one. By falling asleep, I could let everything I heard today slip away from me. That would be too hard for them, and I clung to the information so desperately, even if everything was a lie. I needed something to hold onto because otherwise I had nothing. No one else should ever have to know how scary that feels, to know that your mind had isolated you from everything.

The hours went by so slowly, and my eyes continued to close, then flutter open by the force of sheer will.

I can't sleep…I'll forget, I can't lose them all again…

Sleep was a basic human right, yet I had to deprive myself of it for the sake of my memory. Amnesia would not take it all away from me – not again. I made a silent promise to remember and love them again. I would remember what they remembered; I would share in family stories full in the memory of what they were about. This was just an illness; it was something that could be cured. The doctor told me to rest before he left me, and I wondered if he wanted me to forget my family again. I thought doctors were compassionate people, and so he would want me to remember again, would he not? Thinking made me tired, and it was something I felt I could not add to my exhaustion. I had been lying down all day, so why was I so sleepy? Was it because I was so adamant that I not sleep? The desire ensnared me; it crept around me like a mythical sea creature and burrowed beneath my skin, urging me to just drift away. I felt as if I was Eve, and the snake was in my mind, convincing me to do as he says. That was it – the need, it was all in my head. I craved sleep because it was the one thing I denied myself. If I could just keep awake long enough for today's memory to stay in place. For the first time in years, I felt like crying. But I could not cry. Then it would win. I could not let it.

Time continued to pass and I continued to stay awake. Many nurses came in and were shocked at my lack of rest.

Mr Honda, if you want to get better, you have to go to sleep…

Mr Honda, the doctor says…

Mr Honda…

No. I was not just Mr Honda. That much I knew. I was Kiku Honda. I had a boyfriend called Heracles Karpusi, and many siblings. Nothing else was clear, but that was.

I was losing my battle. My eyelids finally dropped shut and this time I did not have the strength to open them. I had enough willpower to run an electricity plant, but I still could not stay awake.

Sleep was a basic human right. And a basic human need.

Forgive me if I do not know you...

One day, I promise, we will laugh again as one, even if it is in my dying moment.

Game over.

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AN: Well I wrote this for school, didn't need it so changed the names and put it here. Not my best but oh well *sweatdrops*

I'll go back to working on my other story after this. Tell me how I did please? :3