"PJ!" The woman shouted. "Are you okay?"

  The woman seemed genuinely ed. It took me a few seds to uand that what was happening was actually real. fused and still with a headache, I replied, "Ma'am, my name is not PJ. My name is... Wait, what's my name?" I had fotten my name. How was it possible tet my own name? I started having trouble breathing. Not only had I fotten my name, but Mom and Dad's names were also not there. The air felt increasingly insuffit, no matter how much air I took into my lungs, I felt like I was suffog.

  My breathing became erratic. I had to calm myself down because the agitation was making my head hurt even more. Suddenly, the woman embraced my head and calmly said, "PJ, breathe. You hit your head hard while unloading boxes from the moving truck. You're okay, you o breathe." She reminded me while holding me in an embrad gently stroking the bay head, where I discovered the source of the pain.

  The woman stood up and with a ed look on her face, she asked again, "Are you okay? PJ, do you want to go to the hospital?"

  I couldn't process what she was saying. Who J, and why was she still callihat? Where was I? Where was the hospital, the he doctors? Hadn't I died? What was happening? The headache only intensified as I asked myself these questions, and my expression must have shown it because the woman became even more worried when she didn't receive a response.

  Determihe woman turned on her heels aered the house at a brisk pace, which I just realized was to my right. We were in a neighborhood nothing like what I was used to in Los Angeles or Boston. There were Ameri fgs on every porch, and in one of the houses, there was a Texan fg, so I assumed I might be in Texas. How the hell did I end up in Texas? I could hear chis in the distance, and the parked cars nearby were old but retively well-maintaihey looked like the cars that were in fashion before I entered medical school.

  Behind me artially open cardboard box with photo frames protruding from the tears. I picked up one of the photos, and it showed a family – two adult figures, probably the parents, one of them being the woman who was ihe house, along with three young children, two boys, one of whom was a baby, and a girl. They were posing in front of a very different house from the nearby ohe woman looked much younger, and although the two young boys in the photograph seemed annoyed, it was evident that the family was very close-knit.

  " I keep your ics if you die?" I heard suddenly behind me. Surprised, I quickly turned my head, causing even more pain in my neck. It was a young boy, around ten years old. Intrigued, I replied, "My ics?" I've never owned any ics. I don't know what this kid is talking about.

  Clearly surprised by not receiving the response he expected, the boy furrowed his brow for a few seds and then, as if someone had just told him great news, he smiled and said, "Never mind, it was a joke. Well, I'm going to unpack MY ics," holding a box in his hands that I hadn't noticed he had. He proceeded towards the house that the woman had entered just a few seds ago.

  Before the boy could reach the porch of the house, the door swung open with a furious tee out. "Gabe, you're out here. Mom's yelling at you ihe house," said the angry teenager, marg towards the boxes that were already on the moving truck. "Moving to Texas, what a great idea! Let's ighat Teddy was happy in Colorado. My best friend lives 800 miles away. Spencer finally talked to me, but hey! Dad got a great job in Texas, yay! No ohinks about me or my needs," she said with an obvious sarcastie.

  "Oh, really? Try being the younger brother. They barely aowledge my existence," shouted the boy named Gabe, standing a few inches from the house's door.

  Suddenly, the door of the house swung open again, pushing Gabe a few steps back. The resumably the mother of the children, rushed out searg inside her bag until she pulled out a set of keys. "Teddy, I'm taking PJ to the hospital. Take care of Gabe until your father arrives. I don't know where he is; I 't find him anywhere. When your dad es back, tell him PJ had an act and we had to go to the emergen. I'll wait for you at the hospital," she said as she helped me stand and dragged me to the vehicle parked alongside the moving truck.

  "I've beehe whole time! And sure, Mom, I five you for hittih the dabe sarcastically said in a aone as he ehe house and smmed the door.

  The ehe passenger door and helped me get in, fastening my seatbelt as well. She jogged to the driver's door, ope, but without getting into the car, she yelled to the teenager, "Take care of your brother."

  The ride to the hospital was anything but quiet. The woman didn't stop talking for a single moment. "This is good; I know they had their friends in Colorado, their schools, basically their lives," she began, shedding a few tears. "But here, we start over. The opportunity your father got was too good to turn down. I spoke with the head the hospital, and I'll start w week. It'll be like home," she tinued, now genuinely g. "I don't know what's happening to me. I've been so seal since we left Colorado." I didn't know how to talk to her, so I decided to stay silent. "I know you miss Emmet and that there's no rept for your best friend, but I know the neighbors have a son ye. They even have twins Gabe's age," she tialking, and I just listened. Everything she said made me more nervous. My dad had died years ago. Who was Emmet? I didn't have any friends since elementary school. Why would the neighbors' son be my age? Gabe, the weird kid with the ics?

  After that, the rest of the journey was retively quiet. The woman tinued shedding tears and g at times. After a few minutes, we arrived at the hospital, at the emergen. After registerihe womao speak with the here, seemingly introdug herself.

  The pain was diminishing, but everything that happened in the span of several minutes left me thinking deeply. I don't uand who these people are. "PJ Dun," I heard the woman shout at me. I had spaced out and hadn't noticed her. She was o me, taking a pill with a small gss of water. "It's medication for nausea," she told me, notig my gaze. "I got a little dizzy on the way here," she said, putting on a serious expression. "You worry me a bit, PJ. You haven't said much sihe act. You don't seem like yourself. You haven't made a single silly joke in several minutes, only that stupid amnesia joke. 'Ma'am, my name isn't PJ,'" she said, mog the st part.

  "Actually, my name isn't PJ, and I don't know where I am," I said, a little annoyed by the situation. It wasn't a joke.

  Her expression ged, being much more serious than before, with touches of . It seemed like she wao say something else, but "Dun, PJ Dun, examination room 2."

  Before I could react, she dragged me into an examination room. The attending physi examined my head while the woman expined what had happened. "I don't see any superficial wounds. heless, we'll run some tests, and I'd like you to stay ht for observation," the doctor said. The woman nodded and said, "Yes, doctor, whatever is necessary. But there's something that worries me. PJ cims to remember nothing. I thought it was a joke at first, but apparently, it's not, and PJ doesn't have the... patience for that kind of prank."

  "We'll do a CT s, and if there's anything to be ed about, it'll show up there. It's unon, but it's possible for a case of head trauma like this to gee temporary amnesia. If memory loss occurred, it could return at any moment. There's nothing to worry about."

  The tests happened quickly, and before I k, I was ba a hospital room, waiting for the results. Alone in the room with the woman, I started to feel truly anxious because she wouldn't stop asking me questions like, "Don't you remember me? I'm your mom," or questions about a life I didn't live. I had never been to Colorado, didn't know anyone named Emmet, Teddy, Gabe, or Bob. My name wasn't PJ. The overload of information caused another small panic attack, and somehow, I mao escape from the woman g to be my mother by running into the bathroom in the room. And here I was, locked ihroom, looking at the mirror in such astonishment that I couldn't feel my body or the body of the teenager.

  He was tall, skinny, with messy blonde hair. He seemed to be around fifteen or sixteen years old. Obviously, that's why he smelled so bad. Piene. He was wearing a long-sleeved shirt with a Rock band t-shirt on top. The clothes were stained with substances I wasn't sure about toug. Once again, as if I were locked in a room without oxygen, I began tle for breath. This wasn't me. Who is this person? Why am I trolling his body? Why is this happening? Nothing makes sense. How is it possible that something like this is happening to me? What did I do to deserve this?

  And suddenly, it hit me. I k. Before I died, I had wished for a sed ce. Is it possible that I've stolen the body of a teenager? My wish caused a teenage boy to lose his life. This couldn't be happening to me. I didn't want someoo lose their life so that I could live it. What should I do? How I return the body to its rightful owner? Maybe, if I were to die again, I could return the body.

  Scared but determined, I trolled my breathing and stepped out of the bathroom. As soon as I did, a big man pulled me into his arms tightly. "Take it easy, son. I know you're scared. Your mom and I will be here to help you. You're not alone," he said. Then, more arms joihe embrae pair after another—and they all offered f words simultaneously.

  I couldn't remember the st time I had been hugged like this. I started g, and even if it was just for this moment, I let myself go and hugged them all back. The mother of this body, upon notig my tears, cried loudly alongside me. "I love you so much, PJ. I love you all. I don't know what I would do without you. I'm so happy that we're all hugging, but I'm sorry for PJ, and even sadder that we had to move. I'm sorry, kids. I know you didn't want to leave Colorado. It's my fault. Everything is my fault."

  "Haha, honey, don't say that. It's not your fault. If anyone is to bme, it should be me," said Bob, or the father of this body, dismissing the guilt of the mother of his children.

  "You're right. It's all your fault! If you hadn't found this great opportunity, we would still be in Colorado, happy," the mother of this body suddenly exploded, pushing Bob. Everyone was surprised by the sudden ge ititude, includihe room fell pletely silent. No one wao say anything, until...

  "You might o learn how to read again. Anyway, you didn't do it enough, so I share my ic books with you if you want," Gabe said, causing the suddenly furious woman to let out a small ugh that turned into ughter, which spread to the other people in the room.

  The ughter was interrupted by the entrance of the attending physi, holding what were possibly the CT s results in his hand. The room fell silent as the doctor reviewed the papers in his hand. With a nod, the doctor spoke, "Everything looks fihere doesn't seem to be any major problem. Memory loss be caused by shock, so it's possible for it to return at any moment. We o stay positive. heless, I'd like you to stay here tonight for observation, just in case. If all goes well, you could be ready for discharge tomorrow m." After delivering the good news, the doctor bid farewell, accepting the family's gratitude, ahe room.

  With the news given, the parents breathed a sigh of relief and hugged me again. "I'm so gd you're okay, son," said Bob, who was huggihe tightest. "Well, now that everything's fine, I have to go. We still have to unpack the boxes from the truck. Let's go, kids."

  Bob and the children said their goodbyes ahe mother and me alone in the room, still embrag.

  "I'm so relieved that nothing serious happened. Let's hope yain your memory. If not, it's okay, PJ. We still love you. I don't know what I would have done if something bad had happeo you or any of your siblings. I love you all so much, and..." She suddenly cut off, "Ugh," she said with disgust as she pushed me away and ran to the bathroom in the room, presumably to vomit.

  Do I deserve the love of this family? I 't take my own life. What will happen if I don't return the body to the inal PJ? It would devastate this beautiful family. I'm not the oo take their son away from them.

  "PJ, if it was truly my fault to obtain your body, your life, I apologize to you. I don't know how to give it back, but if I knew, I would do it in an instant. I promise you, I will live your life as I promised I would. Your family will be my family, and I will love them as such. I will fulfill my dream in honor of any dream you had, and I will be happy. I will experience, feel, and front my fears. I'm sorry. And thank you," I said quietly with my eyes closed.

  "Ugh!" I heard again from the bathroom, so I hurried in to help. I stood behio hold her hair. "Thanks, PJ. I think all the stress of this day made me vomit."

  "You're wele, Mom, you're wele," I said as I stroked her back.

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  Author's thoughts

  Again, I'm not a doctor.