I wake up imprisoned by metal. My head hurts. My back hurts. Everything fucking hurts. I realize I'm entombed in car that's flipped over on the side of the road.


So I get out the car. It's an Honda.


The clothes I have on are ripped. I'm at the bottom of a ditch somewhere and I don't see a road. So I do the only thing that I can think about doing. I start climbing up. I move towards the road or at least where I think a road would be. I'm not sure if I'm going the right way. At this point it doesn't matter. I am walking for so long that I feel like I'm about to faint.


I'm losing blood.


Nothing makes sense and by the time I climb out of the ditch and away from the car crash I hit the road. I'm standing there in the middle of the road bleeding now. Nothing looks familiar. I am so sure I'm going to die out here.

I look both ways at the road. I'm not sure which way to go.


Why don't I know which way to go?

Suddenly a horn comes out of no where. The horn beeps at me. I run out in front of the car. It swerves barely missing me. The driver lays down on the horn intensely. He runs out at that moment.


“What the FUCK is wrong with you!” the man behind the wheel is screaming at me, “I almost fucking hit YOU!”

He continues to curse. He's saying everything. He's gotten out of his car. He's gotten in my face. But as he approaches me, he stops. His mouth drops. He sees how fucked up I look. He sees the blood all over me.


“Help me...” I tell him.


This voice. What is this voice?


“Are you ok?” he asks


I shake my head, “No...no...”

“Who are you?” the man asks at that moment.


I didn't think about it until that moment. I didn't think about who I was. I didn't think about anything like that. My heart is racing. I'm feeling this uneasiness. What the hell is going on? Why aren't any words coming out.


Then it hits me.

I swallow my spit and respond, “I have no idea.”





You ever wake up with a sense of confusion? Almost like you don't know who you are or where you are. It only lasts a few seconds, because somehow in your dreams you were transported somewhere else. And in those few seconds when you wake up, fantasy and reality collide.


Right now I feel like that. Only it continues on. I can't remember anything.


“Cough for me. Cough again. Ok. Lay down. Relax. Take a few breaths. In and out. Just like that. Yes. Just like that. Is there any pain? Ok. Good. I'll be right back.”


I'm in a hospital. This is a third doctor that I've seen. All of them ask me the same question. “Do you remember what happened to you?” I answer the same way that to each one of them. “No. No...I don't remember...”


“He's that pain boy,” I overhear one of the doctors say to the nurse, “I've already contacted his family.”

I look over to the doctor. I don't reply but I think it's weird how he says it. Pain boy? What the fuck is he talking about.


They leave me alone. The next person that comes into the room are two people. They look like detectives.


“James...James Payne?”


One of the detectives is a female. She is white with long curly hair. The other one is a male. He's in his mid thirties. He's relatively attractive. I can he works out even through his shirt. He has a goatee and reminds me a little bit of Shemar Moore. I find him attractive when I don't find her attractive. As I look at him I realize I must be gay.


That's not the only thing I realize. I look around and realize they are calling me this “James Payne.”

“Me?” I ask.


I just need to be sure.


“That's your name right?” the detective asks, “James Payne?”


I shrug, “Man I'm not sure...”

The sexy detective squints his eyes, “Ok. Let's start this over. My name is Detective Logan and this is Detective Miles. Can you confirm that you are indeed James Payne?”

It hurts to fucking think. I'm looking at this dude and I know he's looking at me like I'm fucking crazy. Maybe I am crazy. Why the fuck can't I remember anything? Why the fuck don't I know who I am?


“Like I said. I don't know.”

The detectives look at one another. It's like something I've seen in a movie somewhere. That moment of mutual confusion. Only I don't remember which movie I've seen it in. As I sit in that hospital room I don't remember...any movies...I've ever seen. Ever...



Just at that moment I see the door open. There is a man walking into the room. He looks familiar but I don't remember from where. He's tall...middle aged and has a slim build. He has a young woman standing next to him. At first I think it's his daughter but then I realize they are holding hands. I'm confused by this.


“James! James! It's really you!” the man says.


He's excited to a scary point. He charges at me at that moment.


“BRUH! Get the fuck off of me! I don't know you!”


I'm defensive. I'm scared. I push the stranger so hard that he falls back a little bit into the younger woman's arms that's with him. They both look at me at that moment. They give me the strangest look of confusion. They can't be as confused as I am.


“Is this some sort of joke?” the man says, “James...I'm your father.”

The man is dead serious. He's not joking. I'm speechless. I'm standing against the wall so that no one else comes up and tries to grab me. I don't want anyone near me for some reason. I just feel...unstable. I feel like I've really lost my fucking mind.


“What's going on with my stepson?” the young woman next to him says.


The girl can't be any older than 21. She's a baby really. She looks over at me and seems worried. I can't really tell though if it's genuine. I can't tell if anything here is genuine. I'm just sitting here watching them and I feel uneasy.


“Your son was involved in an accident,” the female detectives state, “He's seemed to have some sort of short term memory loss. Hopefully short term...”

“And you are?”

“We are detectives assigned to the case.”

“What case? We don't need detectives right now. We need doctors...” my father responds.


“We were hoping to talk to your son and question him more about his accident,” the sexy detective replies.

“Not now. I thought my son was dead. He's been missing for two weeks,” my father states, “Right now I just want to be with my son. Please...”

Two weeks. I've been missing for two weeks?


All of a sudden this shit just went from bad to worse.




I get examined for hours by more doctors. The man and his wife stay. They come in to check on me. The fact that he's staying for so long makes me think he must really be telling the truth. Why else would he have such an interest in my well-being unless I was his son. The man's name is Darryl Payne and the girl is Sydney. She is supposedly my stepmother.


My father sends the detectives away...even the sexy one. Which is a damn shame...


Shit gets extra awkward when a woman shows up at the hospital who claims to be my real mother. She isn't overly dramatic like Darryl is. She says her name is April. Supposedly her and Darryl had me a while back and he left her for Sydney. April is older...dark woman. Her skin is the a beautiful shade of dark chocolate. She seems to not want to be in my face too much. It's strange coming from a mother really. April just sits on the side, clearly having an awkwardness from being in the room with her ex-husband and his much younger lover.


“Retrograde Amnesia,” a specialist explains to my parents.


Darryl's eyes get wide. He looks over at me as though I'm some wounded puppy. Hell. Maybe I am. I still don't like the way he's looking at me though. Am I really such a victim?


Sydney raises an eyebrow, “What does that mean?”

“Jesus-fucking-christ,” my mother responds to the younger girl, “It means he doesn't remember anything. What the fuck do you think it means?”

The specialist nods at what my mother says, “In basic terms yes. James seems to have a very severe case of retrograde amnesia where he doesn't remember events or information learned before a nearly fatal trauma. In this case the trauma was a car accident.”


Fuck.

I can tell it's bad before the girl Sydney gasps. I can tell it's bad before my father hangs down his head or before my mother crosses her legs and looks away. This is fucking bad.


I look at the specialist, “Well...when will I remember again?”

All of a sudden there is this tense situation. My heart is racing. I'm scared to death. I don't know how to respond to this. I don't know what the hell I'm doing.


“It can be today. It can be tomorrow. It can be never...”


The specialists keeps talking at that moment but I partially zone out. I hardly listen to the explanations about Traumatic Brain Injuries. I don't listen to the specialists suggestions about therapies. I'm not listening to any of the bullshit.


All I do is get up while the specialist is discussing this with my parents. I walk to a bathroom that is across the hall.


I look in the mirror at the boy looking back at me. He's a black boy. He has short hair that's roughed up. There's a scar moves from the top of his head to the side of his face. It's been stitched up. Even with that the boy in my reflection is handsome. He must be an athlete because he's looks like one. He looks like he works out regularly. His lips curl and pucker. They look soft. His eyes are a dark brown almost to the point that they are black. His nose is slim and curls. He has a mole on the top of his lip that seems to be a signature beauty mark.


I look at this boy in this mirror and I have no fucking idea who he is.





“We have to go take you to see Doctor Edwards twice a week,” my father is telling me, “It's best you stay home for a while. Stay off your feet.”

I'm in the backseat of the car. My mother said goodbye at the hospital so it's clear I'm going to my father's house. The girl Sydney is in the passenger seat.


“I live with you?” I ask my father.


He nods, “Of course. Me and Sydney. And your brothers. They've been worried about you. They wanted to come see you but...you know...”

“What about my mom?”

Sydney looks over at me turning her head, “What about her?”

“Why don't I stay with her? Isn't that how things usually work?” I ask.


Sydney rolls her eyes. I swear she rolls her eyes at me at that moment.


“I don't get it. If you don't have any memory---how do you know how things are supposed to work?”

It's a stupid question that I don't have the time to answer. I don't care to answer it either. She seemed relatively sweet a minute ago. The idea that I am curious about my mother seems to have set her off a little bit though. I just don't get how my mother seemed so distant back at the hospital. I don't get how my mother just “Peaced out” as soon as I checked out of the hospital.


My father shakes his head, “This are...complicated with me and your mother. Let's leave it at that. Everyone's hyped to see you. Does this street look familiar James?”


I look at the street. I'm in outskirts of a city. It has an urban feel to it but seems like an OK area.


“Naw...” I reply bluntly.


“We live here,” my father says turning at that moment, “You live here. Right there.”

He's saying it as though thinking I'm just going to be like “Oh yeah, I remember”. I don't remember shit. A part of me feels annoyed and a part of me feels disappointed. I don't know how to feel to be honest. I don't even know what my personality is. I don't know who the fuck I am.





We walk up to the house and we walk up to a brown detached home with a small driveway. When we walk into the drive way I just have this feeling that there's something off. I don't know what it is but I feel nervous. I feel like I'm not in complete control at that moment.

“WELCOME HOME!”

I jump back scared to death. All these people jump out. Strange faces. Most of them are young...about the same age that I'm assuming I am. They are...teenagers...just like me.

There are three boys that are standing there at the front. They are all teenagers just like me. They are all muscular just like me. One I believe is Middle Eastern looking. One seems to be some mixed guy who seems to have Asian and maybe black in him. The last man standing there is a dark brown complexion darker than I am. To be honest all of them look like some fucking models or something like that.


The dark skin one is the about 6'0”. He has interesting freckles on his cheeks that I've never seen in a dark man before. I'm hypnotized by him a little bit but as he makes his way towards me I find myself freaking the fuck out.


“GET THE FUCK OFF ME!”


“Damn...” the dark skin guy says jumping back at that moment, “It's like that bra?”


“James, relax. It's ok,” my father is saying from behind me, “These are just your brothers...”

He's talking about the three boys in front of me.


“What?” I respond.


That makes no sense. None of us look alike. We all look different.


“Well...your adopted brothers...” my father responds.


Weird. Weird as fuck.


Just at that moment a girl walks up to me. She is a brown girl with long hair that flows all the way to her back. She has a slim frame. Not curvy or anything like that. She has a innocent charm about her. As she approaches me I'm confused on what the fuck she's going to do.

And then she does something that blows my fucking mind.


She KISSES me. She kissing me on the fucking lips.


I push off of me.


“Yo!”

“You really don't remember me either?” the girl is saying, “It's me Tanya.”

Tanya doesn't ring a bell. She's pretty enough. The way she is looking at me is almost like she expects me to know who she is. I notice the Middle Eastern or Spanish boy giggles at this like this is the funniest thing in the world. It causes Tanya to flush red at that moment.


“He doesn't remember...anyone Tanya. Don't take it personal,” my father states.


Tanya is taking it personal. A few of them seem to be taking it personal. The black boy who I pushed off me is still looking hurt. Tanya's face is still blushing red. The Middle Eastern boy with a sand complexion is still amused heavily by this. Everyone seems to be reacting to me and I just feel the room closing in at that moment.


“I don't feel good...” I say all of a sudden, “Where is my room?”

“Son, all these people came to see you.”

There all these eyes looking at me. Whoever I was before this I must have been popular. I must have been real popular. They are all staring at me like they want something from me. They are all just watching me. None of them are whispering or talking. They seem to just be wondering what's wrong with me.


They are judging me with their stares.


“Which room is mine?” I repeat.


“Up the stairs...to the right...”






I hide out in a room up the stairs. I hide out until I realize people starting to leave. I feel bad for a minute but nothing stops me. I look out the window. And that's when I see someone. It's a boy. He's walking away from the house. I never noticed him before.


He is black. He's dark skin but has interesting brown hair on the top of his head. As I look down from the bedroom he looks up for me.


And among all these faces...I RECOGNIZE him.


The boy seems to see me for a minute. He doesn't wave. He just turns and walks away with everyone else that is leaving the house.


Suddenly the door opens. The Asian, mixed looking boy is there. He has spiky hair and a face like a model. He is tall and has an athletic build. His facial features are Asian. He has eyes that are a spaced in an Oriental way and slanted. His lips are thinner and his nose straight. His complexion however is a little darker almost to the point that I wonder if he's mixed with black. He has a friendly demeanor as I look at him.


“Don't you knock?” I ask him.


“Uh---you're actually in my room,” he responds at that moment and walks over to me at that moment, “I'm Yuri.”

He extends his hand to shake. I look at him at that moment.


“You're my brother too?”

He laughs, “Yeah.”

“This funny to you?”

He shakes his head, “No. Just weird. You have no idea how weird this is. I just introduced myself to the closest person in my life. And you have no idea.”


Closest person?

I shake my head at that moment and remove the thought, “What? Did our 'father' adopt from a GQ magazine or something?”


He laughs, “We are popular...”

“I have a question. Uh. What's your name again?”

“Yuri...bro...”

“Yuri. Whose that boy right there?”

Yuri looks outside of the window at that moment. I point at the boy. The handsome boy is walking across the lawn now and is getting in a car. As he gets in the car he runs his hand over his brown hair.


“Why do you care?” Yuri asked, “Some loser. I don't even know his name. He goes to our school. Don't let them muscles fool you. He's a male cheerleader or some gay shit. You know...those little faggots that wear the tights and lift girls up. I'm pretty sure he's one of Houston's weird ass friends.”

“His name is Zion.”

Yuri looks over at me at that moment.


“Yeah. Yeah I think his name is Zion. You remember his name? I didn't even think you knew him...”

I nod at that moment, “Um...no...I don't know...”

But as I'm sitting there looking at this boy Zion I realize that I have a connection to him. It's a connection that I don't quite understand.
==================================================================


Yuri shows me my room and as the day goes by they mostly leave me alone. I assume they are trying to give me space or something. I don't know for sure.


I look around my room. I look at my clothes. Cool kid clothes. I must have a sense of style by how many clothes I have. This room is kind of small but it make sense with such a big family. By the time I get to the main wall I realize that I must be really athletic. There are basketball trophies lined up everywhere even from a young age. I wonder what age I was adopted. I wonder how close I am to these multi-racial brothers of mine.


I wonder why I remember this Zion boy's name.


Hours pass and I realize I've dozed off. When I wake up I hear the sound of basketball outside of my window. There is something so welcoming about the sound.


I don't know what makes me get up and go outside at that moment but when I get out there I see these “brothers” of mine. My mouth drops open.


They are playing every man on a hoop that is set up outside of the garage. They have on little shorts or what not.


“Wanna play?” the dark one says.


I can't help but to lick my lips. He's sexy. They are all sexy. The little short shorts are such a turn on. They are aggressive with one another pushing against each other. Yuri is the one I know but the others stop playing for a while.


“Lemme guess. You don't remember how?” the middle eastern one asks.


“Yo leave him alone,” the Asian one says at that moment before shaking his head, “James. This is Houston. And the dickhead who looks like Aladdin is Rami.”

Houston is the tallest. He's handsome and he smiles warmly at me. He looks a little shy. The other one Rami doesn't seem like that at all. He looks me up and down and then does the strangest thing. He grabs his dick. I'm shocked by it but he's pulling at his dick through his pants now making sure to crease it and show the width of the entire dick. He holds it and grabs it with a demeanor that he probably thinks is hilarious.


“You really don't remember us?” Houston says shaking his head, “Huh?”

He really looks disappointed at that moment. He just shakes his head. He's so fucking cute. I have to admit. I mean they are all cute but Houston has these innocent dimples and freckles. He's one of those boys with a babyface that still manages to be sexy.


Rami isn't ugly either. He's far from it. He is probably the traditional 'handsome' one out of all of them. He def looks like some SEXY FINE middle eastern prince out of someone's dream or something. He has no shirt on and he's dripping with sweat. His dick is flopping around in his shorts. He has no underwear on under them. I can see the imprint of his dick.


“You like what you see or something?” Rami asks, “You staring real hard, bro. Let me find out you hit your head and became a fag.”


“What---what? Hell no I'm not gay...”


Or was I?

Rami laughs and pushes me, “I'm just joking. I know can't nothing change my little brother from being a pussy killer.”

Rami continues to laugh at his own smart ass wit at that moment.

I'm confused. I'm scared.


What if he's right? Was I really straight and all of a sudden I'm here trying to hide the wood I'm getting from these boys who are supposed to be my adopted brothers?


DEFINITELY I'm gay.


“Maybe playing some ball will help you remember everything,” Yuri tells me, “You are the captain of the basketball team at school.”

Shit. All those trophies made sense.


“Sure...maybe I'll play a game.”

“Two on two,” Yuri said, “You're on my team again.”

He passes me the ball. I hold the ball in my hand. All of a sudden I get a flash. It's this memory. It's almost like I'm in time. In my memory I'm on a court. People are cheering me on. I'm running up and down the court dribbling.


And in my memory I turn to the side...and see him...


Him.


Zion. Muscles bigger than anyone on the basketball court. His eyes staring at me. His brown eyes just looking right through me.


Zion. Zion.


“James! GRADY!”

I snap out of it.


It's Yuri. He's standing behind me. He grabs my shoulder and points across the street. It's the detective. The FINE one that I met when I woke up.


He looks the same. His eyes glare at me as he stands across the corner. I notice my adopted brothers surrounding me at that moment.

It's Yuri in particular that grabs my hand, “What does he want?”


“I'll go see...” I say.


Yuri and the others exchange glances but I walk over to the detective at that moment. He's smoking a cigar and staring at me from across the street. By the time I get over there I can tell that he has something important to tell me.


He must have wanted me to walk away from him.


“James Payne,” he addresses me again.


“You said that was my name,” I say.


I must have been a smart ass in my old life because I can't help but be a little bit of a smart ass now.


He's shaking my head, “We found the vehicle that you had your car crash in. We were able to retrieve it from the ditch that you got lost in.”

“Oh good. It looked pretty totaled.”

“It was.”

I am confused, “So what's the point of telling me you found it?”

The detective shakes his head, “Well. It seems like the breaks in your car were...tampered with. That in association with your disrupted calls to 911 half an hour before our incident makes me think that foul play was involved.”

My eyes get wide, “Foul play?”


My heart races.


I feel sick to my stomach.


The detective gives me a strong, yet worried stare, “James. I have strong reason to believe someone may have been trying to kill you...”