Silence.
A silence so intense it became an anguished scream.
It was all that existed in that strange, intimidating white room.
My body felt heavy — as if my very bones were made of iron.
Even the smallest movement weighed as much as a car.
And yet, against the weight, the emptiness, and the sheer strangeness of the white room… I moved.
Little by little, I felt my body more clearly. As if I could sense every cell coursing through each vein and artery.
What had happened?
Where was I?
Countless questions overwhelmed my mind.
But they were all cut like paper by a brief, simple sound at the door:
Knock. Knock. Knock.
The sound echoed through the white room, tearing apart its silence.
Right after, a voice — serene and calm, like the waves of the sea — spoke:
— Good morning! Patient Louie, right? May I come in? — said a female voice, opening the door just a sliver.
The voice was unfamiliar to me, as was everything else here. Yet, with no real options and filled with unanswered questions…
— You can… — Before I could finish speaking, my throat froze.
That voice? Was that really my own voice? Why did it sound so strange and unsettling to me?
— Patient Louie? Are you alright? I'll open the door, — the sweet voice replied to my unfinished sentence, pushing the door fully open.
She appeared — long brown hair, sleek and radiant, eyes like burnt caramel, and a white mask covering her mouth.
Her reaction upon stepping inside and meeting my gaze was pure shock.
Her caramel eyes trembled the instant they locked onto mine.
Her body, draped in white fabric, recoiled — as if she wished she could undo the motion of entering.
Almost as if she had seen something terrifying.
In a heartbeat, she averted her gaze. And as though battling the strangeness and repulsion, she forced herself to continue:
— A-ah!.. R-right, so… how are you feeling? — her voice quivered, her face visibly uncomfortable with the situation.
— I… I'm fine. Just a little dizzy… I guess, — I replied, trying to understand the source of her discomfort.
— I-I see… That's good… To come out with so few aftereffects after… that… it's really a miracle… — she said, still avoiding my eyes.
That?
Ah, of course… She must be talking about that strange place, stained with red, littered with bodies, where I had first awakened…
— I'll call your relatives to come see you now that you're awake… Is that alright? — the nurse said, almost as though eager to leave the room.
— Sure… no problem, — I answered, watching only her silhouette as she slipped out the door.
What had frightened her so much?
Was it a wound? A scar? Some trace left by the incident?
And yet, one question drowned out all the others, like a blank photograph searing itself into my mind…
Who were these relatives?
With nothing but that blank image in my head, I finally summoned the strength to rise from the cold bed in that dim, sterile room.
I planted one foot, then the other, onto the floor, and with effort, moved slowly toward a desk set beneath a circular mirror beside the bed.
The moment my reflection came into view… I immediately understood the nurse's fear and discomfort.
— So that's why…? — I muttered, raising my hand to my right eye, which pulsed with a vivid, bloodlike red.
The image in the glass revealed pale skin, a gaze split between heaven and hell — separated only by left and right.
Black hair, marred by hostile white streaks.
I didn't know who that person in the mirror was.
I couldn't even say for certain if it was human… let alone if it was only human.
The glare from my right eye, red as blood, was threatening, imposing… and disgusting.
I couldn't fully explain the feeling that consumed me as I stared at myself.
But one thing I could say with certainty:
Whoever that reflection belonged to, however I had ended up with it — even without remembering who I was — that face in the mirror… wasn't me.
And as if struck by fate's bell, a thunderous cry echoed down the corridor, just outside the white room's door:
— BROTHEEERRRRR!
A sweet voice, warm as the sun, rushed toward the door — and like lightning, slammed it open without so much as turning the handle.
Before me appeared a little girl, about nine or ten years old. Dark brown, nearly black hair, and eyes as blue as the sky itself.
That was the last sight I caught before being completely crushed by her embrace.
An embrace warm as the sun, overflowing with love and affection.
Even without knowing who she was… the warmth radiating from her was real.
The feelings she stirred in me were undeniable.
And mine, even without recognizing her… were just as real.
Right behind her came a woman.
Golden-blonde hair, like scorched gold. A green dress. And brown eyes, just like the girl's.
The moment she entered, she ran straight to me — and wrapped me in her arms with unrelenting force.
Tears streamed like waterfalls down her face.
And between muffled sobs, she whispered:
— Welcome back… my son! — she murmured, pressing her soaked face deeper against my shoulder.
Even with all the love shared in that moment…
Even with part of me trembling at every word they spoke…
Even with my left eye, blue as the sky, drowning in its own sea of tears…
I remembered nothing.
But within me burned a single, undeniable truth:
Whoever the old Louie had been… wherever he was now…
these people before me — they were the ones he had loved most in the world.