This is an automated archive made by the Lemmit Bot.

The original was posted on /r/nosleep by /u/SnooSuggestions2081 on 2025-02-04 05:10:24+00:00.

“Good morning, friends! Lets rise and shine. It’s time for morning medicine and breakfast. Please make your way to the cafeteria. Let’s have another amazing day!”

I’m so sick of the morning announcement. Every morning at 7:00 on the dot. I stare up at the intercom waiting for the announcement to end. It’s too happy… it feels like fake happiness.

I don’t want to be a part of this. I don’t want to be here. I just want to find my family. I don’t want to see “mom” or “dad” again.

I was placed in a psychiatric facility. Not like the ones you see on tv. There were no cells, no uniforms. The walls were colorful and full of motivational posters and drawings. They gave me my own bedroom. It felt more like a summer camp. The doctors all wear T-shirt’s and jeans. They act like they’re our friends. It’s not fooling me.

I’ve been here for a week now. The hospital sent me here. They told my “parents” that it would be good for me. I guess some kids have a hard time adjusting after traumatic incidents. This would be a good place for me until my memory started coming back.

My memory never left. They think my real life was all a dream. That I’m imagining things from the coma, but I remember everything. My real mom, my real dad, Jenny, the nurse lady, the woman.. her smile. I know what’s real.

The man and woman convinced the hospital that I was their son. I don’t know how. I don’t look like them, I’m not even sure if they know my name. I mean, they must, but how could they prove it? Did they make a fake birth certificate or medical records? Were their bandages even real? How did they find me?

I needed to figure out why this was happening, and how I was going to get out of here. The only problem was, I need a guardian to release me. The man and woman come here everyday to see if I remember them, if I’m “getting better”. They actually think I’m going to leave with them. I refuse to talk to them, I won’t acknowledge their existence. Why are they pretending to be my parents? What do they want with me?

I went to the cafeteria. Thankfully they don’t force me to take any medication. That’s for the kids with real issues. I grabbed a carton of milk and a tray with waffles; definitely frozen waffles, and ate as fast as I could.

I didn’t want to talk to anyone. I wanted to eat and go back to my room before they showed up again. Families come to visit their kids from 9:00-12:00. The man and woman have been here everyday by 9:05.

I’m going to tell doctor that I don’t want to see them again. I don’t know how much longer I can get away with it, but it’s buying me some time. I just need to go back to my room so I can think in peace.

I’ve been keeping a journal. Everything about my life before the crash. Details about my mom, like how she loved cooking but hated baking. She always played music while she cleaned the house, and she always left the nightlight on in her room incase Jenny got scared. And my Dad. He’s big and scruffy. He looks mean, but he’s like a teddy bear. I wrote about the time he put up a basketball hoop in the driveway, and stayed up with me way past bedtime to teach me how to shoot. Or when he bought me and Jenny special capes and turned the whole living room into a fortress so we could play superhero’s.

Jenny.. It’s been so hard to write about her. Every time I try, I start to feel tears in my eyes. I’m so worried about her. I need to get out of here and find her. I have no idea where she is, and if she’s alone or not.

The tears start filling my eyes again, and that’s when I heard a voice. “You need to go with them.”

It sounded like a young girl. I looked around the room. I’m all alone. Am I going crazy? The voice was too clear to have imagined it. I stopped and in a shaky voice managed to say “…hello?”

“Don’t say anything. You need to trust me. If you want to get out of here, you need to play along.”

I feel the voice at the back of my neck. It makes all the hairs stand straight up. This can’t be real. I look around the room. I check under the bed and behind the bookcase. I even check places that don’t make sense like the bedside drawer and under my pillow.

“Please! You need to listen. When the man and woman come today you need to talk to them. Tell them you’re not ready to leave yet, but you think you’re starting to feel better. Tell them they look familiar.”

Out of sheer panic and confusion l grab my journal and in big letters write “WHY WOULD I DO THAT?”

The voice responded to me saying “You need them to trust you.”

“AND WHY SHOULD I TRUST YOU?”

I felt a chill run down my back. I froze as the voice whispered

“Mighty Matt, it’s me.”