"Please, have a seat, Arya."
Nadia's father gestured toward the couch.
Arya hesitated for a moment before slowly sitting down. The air felt heavy, thick with an unspoken weight that filled the silence between them.
The steady ticking of the wall clock echoed through the room, each second stretching longer than the last. Across from him, Nadia's father sat with his back straight, hands clasped over his knees. His gaze was steady, but his eyes carried something deeper like he was trying to find the right words, words that weren't easy to say.
"I heard from Nadia," he finally spoke, his voice calm yet deliberate. "You've been through the alley near the school before, haven't you?"
Arya blinked, caught off guard. It was a simple question, yet something about it made his stomach twist.
"Yeah… a few times," he admitted. "That alley… it feels familiar somehow. But I don't know why."
A faint smile flickered across Nadia's father's face, though it didn't quite reach his eyes. He exhaled slowly before continuing.
"Nadia also told me you said something felt off about that place. Like something close, yet out of reach."
Arya's chest tightened. Images flickered in his mind narrow walls, hurried footsteps, a shadowed figure. His heartbeat quickened.
"I need to tell you something, Arya. About you and Nadia."
He paused, drawing in a deep breath. Arya's fists clenched unconsciously.
"About when you were little."
The air in the room felt even heavier.
"Years ago, something happened. Something that nearly took both of your lives."
His voice was quieter now, rough with the weight of the past.
"It's probably why that alley feels so familiar to you."
Arya swallowed hard, his mind racing. It was as if a door had cracked open, just enough to let light spill through but everything on the other side was still blurry.
"There used to be an abandoned house at the end of that alley," Nadia's father continued. "It's gone now torn down."
A faint shadow flashed through Arya's mind. A broken window. A worn-out wall. A sound muffled by the dark. His whole body stiffened.
"That house," Nadia's father said, his voice lower now, "was where they found you."
Arya's breath hitched.
"You were injured. Bleeding. The police said there were signs of violence before you lost consciousness."
The living room suddenly felt smaller, the walls closing in.
"I… I don't remember," Arya murmured, his voice barely above a whisper.
Nadia's father nodded solemnly.
"You wouldn't," he said. "You were so traumatized that the doctors diagnosed you with post-traumatic amnesia."
Arya could only stare, his mind struggling to piece together fragments that refused to fit.
"Your mother and I… we agreed to keep this from you. We only wanted you to grow up without that shadow hanging over you."
Silence stretched between them. Arya tried to absorb everything, but it was like trying to hold onto smoke. The distant screams, the rush of footsteps, the ever-present sense of unease pieces of a puzzle that refused to form a picture.
"A few days before Nadia collapsed," Nadia's father continued, "she seemed… different. Distant. Lost in thought. Like you, she kept talking about the alley. She didn't know why it felt so familiar. Then, she found something a blue necklace, tucked inside her desk drawer at school."
Arya's breath caught.
Nadia's father reached into his pocket and pulled out a necklace small, delicate blue beads, with a tiny white flower charm, cracked along the edge. The beads shimmered under the light, something about them tugging at a buried part of Arya's memory.
"Here."
He held it out to Arya.
With trembling fingers, Arya reached for it. The moment his skin touched the cold beads, something stirred within him. Faint echoes. The weight of hurried footsteps. The sharp chill of fear crawling down his spine.
"I think," Nadia's father said gently, "it's time for you and Nadia to remember."
Arya didn't respond. His grip on the necklace tightened, the beads pressing into his palm. A storm of emotions swirled inside him fear, confusion, something close to recognition.
The room felt smaller, the air thicker.
Nadia's father gave him space, allowing the silence to settle before he finally spoke again.
"I'm not telling you this to reopen old wounds, Arya," he said softly. "I just don't want you to be trapped in endless questions, the way Nadia is."
Arya only nodded. His mind was still spinning, fragments of memories flickering like static an empty house, pounding footsteps, the scent of damp air clinging to his skin. Everything felt real. Too real.
But it was still out of reach.
Arya didn't know what else to say. His head felt full yet empty at the same time. One thing was certain the alley wasn't just a narrow passage with peeling walls. Somewhere within it lay a part of his forgotten past, locked away and buried for so long.
Before the atmosphere could grow any heavier, the sound of approaching footsteps broke the silence. Ridho and Sinta stood a few steps away from the sofa, their gazes hesitant as they looked at Arya and Nadia's father.
"Sorry, sir. We didn't mean to interrupt," Ridho said politely. "We just wanted to take Arya home and let Nadia rest so she can recover quickly."
Nadia's father offered a small smile. "It's okay, Ridho, Sinta. Thank you for visiting Nadia today."
Ridho and Sinta walked closer, stopping beside Arya, who remained glued to the sofa. Sinta placed a gentle hand on his shoulder.
"Arya, let's go home," she said softly yet firmly, trying to pull him out of his tangled thoughts.
Arya looked at Sinta, then at Ridho, who gave him a small, understanding nod. His breathing was heavy, but he knew he had to stand up, had to leave Nadia's house for now.
Slowly, he rose to his feet, intending to hand the blue necklace back to Nadia's father. But before he could, the man shook his head.
"Keep it, Arya. Maybe it will help you remember or at least give you some answers."
Arya looked down at the necklace in his hand, then carefully slipped it into his pocket. "Thank you, sir," he murmured, his voice hoarse.
Nadia's father nodded, his eyes full of understanding. "Be careful on the way home."
With heavy steps, Arya followed Ridho and Sinta out of the house. As they walked toward the gate, the sun was already beginning to fade, their shadows stretching long across the pavement. In his pocket, the blue necklace felt like a small but significant weight, a reminder that there was a part of himself he still didn't fully understand.
On the way home, Ridho, who had been holding back, finally spoke up.
"Bro… what were you and Nadia's father talking about? You look tense."
Arya remained silent, his mind still swirling with images of the necklace and the empty house.
Sinta glanced at him, curiosity etched on her face. "Is it about the blue necklace Nadia found in her desk drawer?" She pointed at Arya's pocket, raising an eyebrow. "Why does her father want you to keep it? And what exactly did he tell you?"
Arya took a deep breath. He wanted to answer, but the words were stuck in his throat. Even he didn't fully understand what had just happened.
"Honestly… I still don't have all the answers," he finally admitted, his voice quiet before he fell into silence again.
Ridho and Sinta exchanged glances. Their faces showed confusion, but also empathy. They knew Arya wasn't the type to open up easily, especially about something as vague as this.
"If you ever need to talk, we're here for you, bro," Ridho said, patting Arya's shoulder lightly. "No need to overthink everything right now."
Arya managed a small smile. Yet, the blue necklace still felt heavy in his pocket, a quiet reminder that a piece of his past was still waiting to be uncovered.
When they arrived at his house, Arya pushed open the gate, his steps unsteady. His thoughts were scattered, and it felt as if the necklace was staring at him from inside his pocket. Nadia's father's words about "the incident" echoed in his mind, looping like an unrelenting whisper.
The house was quiet when he stepped inside. Only the faint hum of the television could be heard from the living room. The warm aroma of jasmine tea drifted through the air, offering a small sense of comfort.
"Mom," Arya called softly, spotting his mother sitting on the couch with a cup of tea in her hands.
"Yes, son? You look exhausted. How's Nadia?" Her voice was gentle, carrying a warmth that made Arya's tension ease if only slightly.
He hesitated, watching her. Her presence had always been a source of calm, yet now, he noticed something else, something subtle, as if a shadow of worry lingered behind her eyes.
"Mom… back at Nadia's house…" Arya began slowly. "Her father told me about something that happened to us when we were younger."
His mother's expression faltered for the briefest moment before she composed herself, placing her teacup on the table.
"Is it true?" Arya's voice was quiet but heavy. "Is it true that we nearly lost our lives? That we lost our memories of that incident?"
Arya's mother did not answer immediately. A silence stretched between them, heavy and unmoving, as if time itself had stopped. Her gaze softened, but beneath it lay an unmistakable sadness, difficult to conceal.
Her hand moved gently, brushing through Arya's hair in a slow, comforting gesture. A quiet offering of strength.
"Yes, sweetheart... it all happened."
Her voice was low yet clear, carrying a small tremor, as though she were carefully piecing together something fragile, something once shattered.
"It was a difficult time, Arya. For you, for Nadia, for all of us."
Arya remained silent. A faint but profound ache settled in her chest. Her mother's words brought back fragments of memories disjointed, hazy, incomplete. She wasn't sure if she wanted to remember everything or if she preferred the safety of not knowing.
Her mother held Arya's hand gently, her fingers warm yet hesitant, as if weighing the weight of what she was about to say.
"Arya, there are things that might be difficult for you to remember. But if you truly want to know, I'll try to explain."
She rose from the sofa, stepping away briefly. Arya watched in silence as she returned, holding an old, faded folder. The edges were worn, the documents inside thick and neatly stacked despite their age.
"After the incident… you and Nadia were hospitalized for a long time. Your condition was critical," her mother's voice wavered slightly, but she forced herself to remain steady.
Arya opened the folder slowly. Among the medical reports, her eyes landed on a handwritten doctor's note, the scrawled letters barely legible. But one sheet stood out clear and unmistakable.
Diagnosis: Dissociative Amnesia and Post-Traumatic Amnesia.
Her breath hitched. "What does this mean, Mom?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.
Her mother inhaled deeply, as if steadying herself before speaking.
"Dissociative Amnesia… it's when you lose pieces of your memory due to psychological trauma. You might forget simple things, even what happened just the day before. It's as if your mind resets itself every time you wake up."
Arya's gaze flickered to their joined hands. Her mother's fingers trembled slightly, though they remained warm against hers.
"And Post-Traumatic Amnesia," she continued, her voice soft but unwavering, "is caused by the head injury you sustained. The doctors said that if you're under too much stress or forced to confront painful memories, your mind might react again. You could experience severe headaches… or sudden blackouts."
Arya's chest tightened. The words settled over her like a weight, sinking deeper with each passing second.
"The condition can improve over time," her mother added, "but it can also resurface if something triggers it."
A puzzle long broken apart was now forming into something recognizable still incomplete, but taking shape. The shadows of lost memories hovered at the edge of her consciousness, just beyond her grasp.
And for the first time, Arya wasn't sure if she was ready to remember.
After a long conversation that unearthed so many buried truths, Arya let out a heavy sigh. His head was still reeling from everything he had just learned. It felt like trying to piece together a thousand fragments of a puzzle, most of which had been lost somewhere along the way.
Without another word, Arya stood up and walked toward his room. His mother simply watched, choosing to give him the space he needed. The door closed softly behind him, wrapping him in the silence of his own solitude.
He collapsed onto the bed, his gaze fixed on the empty ceiling as if searching for answers there. Slowly, his right hand slipped into his pocket and pulled out the blue pendant he had kept ever since returning from Nadia's house.
The pendant felt cold against his palm. Arya stared at it in silence. Sunlight filtering through the curtains cast a faint glimmer across its surface. It was such a simple thing, yet something about it felt profound, inexplicably heavy. Something that seemed familiar, yet impossibly distant. A small object now carrying an unbearable weight in his mind.
Was the incident truly so terrifying that he had blocked it from his own memory?
His thoughts spiraled, desperately trying to reconstruct the hazy fragments of his past. His gaze drifted back to the ceiling, his eyelids growing heavy. As his breathing slowed, his eyes closed.
Darkness. Silence.
But not for long. Images and sounds began flickering through his mind faint yet vivid. Like an old film reel coming to life, the memories started playing once more.
The evening breeze was soft as young Arya stood in front of Nadia's gate. The slightly rusted metal creaked as he pushed it open. On the porch, a little girl sat, cradling a small rabbit plush in her lap.
"Nad! Let's play!" Arya called out with a wide grin.
Nadia turned, her face lighting up with a bright smile. She quickly hopped to her feet and ran toward him, her twin ponytails bouncing with each step.
"I brought something for you," Arya said, pulling out a handmade blue beaded necklace adorned with a small white flower charm.
"I made this just for you, as a symbol of our friendship. And as a promise… I'll always protect you," he added, still smiling.
Nadia's eyes sparkled as she reached for the necklace and eagerly put it on.
"It's so pretty, Arya! Thank you!" she chirped happily.
They ran off together, playing tag and hide-and-seek. Their laughter echoed through the dimming sky, filling the air with childlike joy. Without realizing it, their small feet carried them to the end of the alley, near an old, abandoned house that loomed in eerie silence.
A sudden noise shattered the peace.
A black car screeched to a halt in front of the deserted house. Arya and Nadia froze, peeking cautiously from behind a large tree nearby.
The car door opened. Three men stepped out, their expressions grim and serious. One of them moved to the trunk, unlocking it.
Inside, a man lay bound his wrists and ankles tied, his mouth covered with duct tape. He thrashed against his restraints, muffled sounds of struggle escaping through the tape.
One of the men struck the captive hard across the head, causing him to slump unconscious.
Nadia clamped a hand over her mouth, struggling to contain a scream. But the terror was stronger than her self-control.
"AAAAAH!!"
Her panicked cry pierced the air.
All three men whipped their heads in their direction. Their eyes, sharp and menacing, locked onto the tree where Arya and Nadia were hiding.
"Who's there?!" one of them barked, immediately rushing toward them.
"Arya! They saw us!" Nadia gasped, her voice trembling with fear.
Without a second thought, Arya grabbed Nadia's hand and started running. Their small footsteps pounded against the pavement, their breaths coming in ragged gasps. They ran without looking back, weaving through the narrow alleys until they reached a passage near the school.
"Hurry, Arya! They might catch up!" Nadia urged, tugging at his hand.
"We need to hide!"
Without hesitation, they darted behind a tall stack of discarded cardboard boxes at the corner of the alley. Peering through a small gap, Arya saw one of the men standing at the alley's entrance, his face twisted in anger.
With a sudden kick, the man sent a trash can flying, the loud clang breaking the eerie silence.
Nadia's eyes widened. She instinctively clutched Arya's hand tighter.
"Nadia, don't make a sound," Arya whispered, his voice trembling. "He might hear us."
But the sound of heavy footsteps grew closer. The man was sweeping his gaze over every corner, searching. When his eyes landed on the stack of boxes, Arya and Nadia felt their hearts nearly stop.
"Arya… what if he finds us?" Nadia whispered, her voice barely holding back a sob.
Without realizing it, Arya squeezed her hand tighter. Their bodies were trembling in unison. As the man stepped closer, Nadia could no longer contain her fear. She pulled on Arya's arm and whispered desperately,
"Run, Arya… run!"
They bolted, their tiny feet barely touching the ground. But the man's footsteps thundered behind them, closing the distance fast. Before Arya could react, a large hand grabbed his shoulder and shoved him hard against the alley wall.
His small frame hit the rough surface with a dull thud.
"Arya, get up! Hurry, get up!" Nadia's panicked scream rang in his ears.
Then, the man seized Nadia's arm with brutal force.
"No! Let me go!" Nadia's cry echoed through the alley.
Darkness… Everything went black.
Arya gasped awake, his chest rising and falling in sharp, uneven breaths. Cold sweat dripped from his forehead. His eyes darted to the ceiling, blank and unyielding above him. His hands trembled, still clutching the blue pendant.
It felt colder than ever.