The Life of Alex

smokes: false memory: false -- **SCENE: INT. SHERRI'S DINER - NIGHT** You find youself in a diner. Your first moment of conscious thought. You have no idea how you got here or where you are. Could it be that you've been in this booth for all of eternity? "Ha-ha. Not funny!" says the girl sitting next to you, lightly pushing you away. "So is that true Meghan?" asks the boy sitting in front of you, and for a second you are unsure if he is talking to you. "Well.. yeah, it is. But hey, I was just 14 okay!" the girl answers. [[The conversation continues...->freak out1]]

car: 'a 1998 blue Toyota Corolla' -- You enter the bathroom, your heart races as everything starts to looks kind of blurry. “What is going on? What is happening?” you say, trying to catch your breath. You look in the mirror, but the person staring back is not someone you recognize. Here’s what you see: - A girl, no older than 20—maybe even younger. - She has {cycling link for: 'hair', choices: ['blonde', 'black', 'hazel']} hair with remnants of blue dye. - Her eyes are {cycling link for: 'eyes', choices: ['blue', 'black', 'brown', 'green']}, and freckles sprinkle across her face. - Oh, and a {cycling link for: 'nose', choices: ['petite', 'average-sized', 'bigger-than-average-sized']} nose. This is not you, you’re sure of it. But you can’t recall looking like anything else. There are no memories in your brain. Immediatly you smile at yourself and lift both your arms in an attempt to identify a potential stroke. You look just fine. “What... the... hell?” After a moment of silence, you pat your pants and discover: >[[Phone]] >[[A brown wallet]] >[[A pack of cigarettes and a lighter]] >[[Car keys]]

As they continue talking, you glance down at your hands, but they feel unfamiliar. Surely they must be yours, right? Who else's could they belong to? “Fourteen is way too old! At that age, I was already—” “Ex—excuse me,” you interrupt. “What is this?” “What is what?” the boy asks, with a chuckle. “Uh... I’m not sure,” you reply. The boy laughs. There is a moment of silence as they realize the genuineness of your question. “Hey, is everything okay?” the girl asks. “Uh... yeah- yeah. I'm fine, I just need to go to the bathroom,” you say, quickly standing up from the booth. [[Next]]

smokes: true -- "Cigarettes?" you ask, surprised. You can't rememebr what it feels like to smoke, but you feel an irresistable urge to do it, right this second. You then step outside to llight one up, taking a deep drag. It feels so instinctual, yet so novel. As the nicotine hits your brain, a memory starts coming to you. Its that smell of tobacco, and it reminds you of a special day with a special someone. `Memory:` [[The Birds]] [[Repress memory]]

SCENE: EXT. LAKE HEFNER TRAIL - MORNING The smell of burning tobacco, or should I say, dad's smell. You dislike it, but there is something lovely about it. "Just another 10 minutes, kiddo" says Dad, holding your tiny hand as the two of you make your way up the trail. "What kind of birds have you seen, Dad?" "Oh, all kinds. I once saw a scissor-tailed flycatcher, there was the eastern bluebird, the northern cardinal, and even once a red-tailed hawk!" "And what about today?" you ask, looking up at him with your {eyes} eyes, hoping for something amazing. “Well, let’s see what we find” he says, with a smile. He squeezes your hand a bit tighter. You two make it to the end of the trail, arriving at a viewing spot. After a few minutes, he says: “There. Do you see it?” You follow his finger, putting every effort into finding whatever it is he is pointing at. Finally, you spot it—a dot of blue among the branches.* Gasp. *“Is that a...?” “Eastern Bluebird,” he whispers proudly, slowly pulling out his camera. You watch as he removes the lens and adjusts the focus. *CLICK* For that one second, it’s just you and Dad—frozen in time. [[As this memory fades, another one starts coming to you...->The House]]

You answer, “Hey” “Hi! Where are you? Still out with your friends?” “I just left the diner,” you reply. “Oh, okay. Are you alright?” “Not really. I’m not feeling so good.” “Oh no, what’s going on honey? Did Meghan say something rude again?” “No, no, she didn’t. I just... don’t know what’s going on.” “You’re not sure? Well, are you physically okay?” “Yeah, I am. I just... don’t feel like myself.” “Hmm, okay. Why don’t you come back home? We’ll talk” “Okay, I’ll see you soon.” “Bye, kiddo.” [[You go home.]]

You pull out a wallet from your pocket, hoping to find something that will make this weird feeling go away. Maybe all you need is to remember your name, then it all come back to you. As you look through the cards in your wallet, you find a piece of ID. "Southeast High School" it reads, and it has your name: *Alex Moore* Unfortunately though, finding out your name does not fix whatever is wrong with you. As you continue looking through you find many things: A coupon for a half-off Domino's medium-size pizza, your EMBARK transit card, and finally a picture. You pull out this polaroid from your wallet to examine closer. It seems to be a picture of a... younger you? With.. your dad? `Memory:` [[The Birds]]

"I need to get out of here" you think, keys on hand. So you step out the bathroom, pass the booth you previously sat in while the people in it look at you. You are determined to leave. Stepping outside you press your keys, revealing {dropdown menu for: 'car', choices: ['a 1998 blue Toyota Corolla', 'a 1995 white Honda Civic', 'nothing']}. [[Next-> car reveal]]

As a memory tries creeping back in, you repress it. Why? Not quite sure, seems like you'd want to know more about who you are. But hey, I am not the one who has forgotten everything about their life, so who am I to judge. As you stand alone in this parking lot, a guy approches you: [if smokes === true] "Hey, can I bum one off from you?" "Yeah, sure." you answer, extending the pack out to him without making eye contact. [if smokes === false] "Hey. I was just in my car leaving, and um, I saw what seemed to be a mini breakdown." He chuckles. "Are you okay?" "Yeah, I am fine" you answer, avoiding eye contact. "Okay. Well, just wanted to be sure. I am gonna go now." He says, before starting to walk away. "Wait!" you exclaim, "Can you stay, just for a little bit?" "Yeah, hm, for sure." [continue] There is a moment of awkward silence between the two of you, but just having someone next to you is nice. "So, what are you up to here at Sherri's on a Monday night? Do you come here often?" he asks. "No, its my first time here" you answer. "You?" "Yeah, I come here all the time. My buddy Carl brought me here for the first time a couple of years back. I come every week to have their Turkey Club Sandwich! Best one in town!" [[Next->continued conversation]]

[if car === 'nothing'] Nothing happens. You press the button again, and again. Still, nothing. “Ughhh!” You let out a yell of frustration, throwing the keys to the ground. It doesn’t make sense—why would you have keys if you don’t even have a car? The people inside the diner glance at you through the window. “Well, they definitely aren’t my friends,” you think. “What kind of friends don’t even check in on someone clearly going through something?” Then you notice something odd: the busted keys on the ground... they don’t have any batteries. Interesting. As you crouch down to pick them up, something else catches your eye. Attached to the keys is a keychain—two birds, eastern bluebirds. Holding it makes you feel strange, almost like a memory is trying to resurface. `Memory:` [[The Birds]] [[Repress memory]] [if car === 'a 1998 blue Toyota Corolla'] The lights of a 1998 blue Toyota Corolla flicker. You head on inside, still flustered with emotions. Instinctvely, you start driving out of the parking lot and into the road. You don't know how you learned to drive, but the evidence speaks for itself. As you make your way to God knows where, you get a call. Flipping open your cellphone you see who it is that is calling. It is Mom. Do you pick up? > [[Yes->Phone call in car]] > [[No]] [if car === 'a 1995 white Honda Civic'] The lights of a 1995 white Honda Civic flicker. You head on inside, still flustered with emotions. Instinctvely, you start driving out of the parking lot and into the road. You don't know how you learned to drive, but the evidence speaks for itself. As you make your way to God knows where you get a call. Flipping open your cellphone you see who it is that is calling. It is Mom. Do you pick up? > [[Yes->Phone call in car]] > [[No]]

You don't pick up. This is not your mom, this is someone else's mom. The less you get involved with these people before you revert whatever enchatment was put on you the better. You continue driving, letting the instincts take over. After a few minutes you sense something telling you to stop the car. Wherever you were heading to, you seem to have arrived. "Britton Road" the street sign reads. So you get out of the car and start walking down the street, paying attention to every house you walk by. The first few are nothing interesting, but then you see house 9603. You get a mild burning sensation in your heart. "Have I been here before?" you ask. There is no way to be sure, so you keep walking 9603, 9605, 9607... 9609 You stop and stare at this house. It looks normal, but nothing about it feels normal. It makes no sense, but this house, this is your house. Your eyes start watering, and something starts to happen. A memory starts coming to you... `Memory:` [[The House]]

**SCENE: EXT. HOME - NIGHT** With much effort, you are able to channel every drop of intuition and muscle memory in order to drive home. After parking on the street you walk to the front door, reaching for the keys in your pocket. You bring out the only key that appears to be the right size, and to your surprise it goes in. You take a deep breath, holding it in for a second before turning it... *CLICK* it unlocks. You feel relief. Upon entering your house you see the living room, and a couch. Maybe, you think to yourself, "Maybe if I go to bed, then this will all go away." What do you do? > [[Sleep and hope for the best]] > [[Go upstairs and talk to mom]]

You pull out your phone, your fingers moving instinctively over the keypad. Who are you dialing? You have no idea, but your hands seem to know. 4... 0... 5... 5... 5... 5... 7... 3... 2... 1 You press "Call" The phone rings, and the screen flashes a saved contact: Mom *Beep... beep...* She picks up: “Hey” “Hi,” you answer, hesitantly “What’s up? Still out with your friends?” “Yeah, I am. In the bathroom of the diner right now, actually” “The bathroom?” she chuckles. “Why are you calling me from the bathroom?” “Mom, I’m not feeling so good” “Oh no, what’s going on, honey? Did Meghan say something rude again?” “No, no, she didn’t. I’m just... not sure what’s going on” “You’re not sure? Okay, well, are you physically okay?” “Yeah, I am. I just... I don’t really feel like myself” “Hmm, okay. Why don’t you come back home and we’ll talk about it?” “Okay, I’ll see you soon” “Bye, kiddo.” [[You go home.]]

memory: true -- **SCENE: INT. 9609 BRITTON ROAD - NIGHT** Here you are, your childhood home. You look down and you see your hands. They are the same hands you saw at the diner, but this time they are yours. You look up to see dad. He is happy, holding his box of tools. He asks you: "Hey kiddo, just gotta put this away and then we head to Sherri's, okay?" Of course. Every Monday evening, you and dad went for dinner at that diner, and every time he got the same thing: The Turkey Club Sandwich, grilled, and a diet soda. Funny how he was always concerned about all the added sugar, but never about the cigarettes he kept glued to his lips. The memory begins to transform, to blur and shift. Dad is no longer smiling across from the diner booth, but from a chemo chair. He is older with thinning, but his smile hasn't aged a day. [[Memory ends]]

“So, this friend of yours, Carl, what’s he like?” “Oh, a total idiot. Honestly, I don’t know how he’s still alive,” he chuckles, and you do too. “So, you don’t like him?” “Oh no, it’s not that. I love the guy, but... sometimes I feel like we’re just too different, you know?” There’s a brief silence. “Have you ever felt like your friends, like they don’t really know you?” he asks. “I do, yeah. Like they’re complete strangers. People I’ve never even met,” you reply. “Yeah, exactly. But I can’t knock Carl too hard. He's for the most part pretty nice.” Another pause lingers between the two of you. “Do you know who you are?” you ask, still avoiding eye contact. He turns his face toward you. “No, not really,” he admits. After a few more minutes of bland conversation pass and then he leaves. But something he said lingers with you. Slowly, a memory starts to creep in... `Memory:` [[The House]]

You head upstairs to find mom, who’s in bed watching an episode of Law & Order on cable. “Hey, sweetie!” she says, glancing to see you lingering in the doorway. “Come on in.” You walk slowly toward her, and as you get close, your eyes start filling with tears again. She hugs you, holding you close. After a minute or two of muffled sobs, you manage to calm down. You then tell her everything about what happened at the diner—how your memories just vanished. She looks horrified. “It’s my fault,” she says quietly. “I knew it was too soon for you to go there.” "What do you mean?" you ask. Mom goes on to explain that the therapist you’ve been seeing these past few months warned her against letting you visiting places tied to your trauma. "Dad's favourite diner? What was I thinking?" “It’s only been seven months. I should have known better,” she says, with guilt in her voice. There is a moment of silence. “It’s okay, Mom. We’re going to be fine” you tell, gently moving her hair away from her eyes. You two share another embrace. For that one second, it’s just you and Mom—frozen in time. > **[[THE END]]**

You lay down on the couch and you close your eyes. Before letting youself go though, you feel compelled to say a prayer: "If there is anyone out there, please, I need your help. I am so scared. I don't know what is happening. I just want to feel normal again, please, I need you." After pleading to the unknown powers of the universe, you let yourself go. As you get closer and closer to sleeping, you feel the fear start to leave you. You are not as terrified anymore. Is this it? Will things be okay afterall? [[Next->gods]]

**SCENE: THE WRITER'S ROOM** Congradulations, your prayers have been heard. I have heard them. `Welcome to the writer's room.` Sorry I have been putting you through so much stress, I just thought the whole "forgetting who you are" idea would make for a good story. But, I now realize I should have asked you first. My bad, we all make mistakes. So here is my proposal, you get to choose what happens next. Here are your options: > [[You wake up as Alex, but the torment is over. Your memories have returned and all is well. You can forget about all of this and hope it was a one time thing]] > [[You stop the game, and leave. No story ending for you.]] > [[You wake up as Alex, but still no memories. You get to see where the story goes...]] Your move :)

After a deep and much needed night of sleep you wake up. Looking around the living room, you notice how little effort you put into preparing yourself to bed. However, you are covered by a blanket, which you don't remember grabbing. You get up, and slowly the memories of last night start coming to you. You walk towards the kitchen with a clearly confused expression on your face. You are still processing everything. Was it all a dream? "Hey kiddo!" says mom, coming down the stairs. "Hey mom" you answer. "You gave me a scare last night! I was waiting for you upstairs but you never came. So when I came down to the living room you were just there, passed out on the couch. I was going to wake you up but you seemed like you needed to rest. How are you feeling now?" "I am so so much better!" you answer, with extreme relief. You are back to your nomal self. You are Alex Moore, senior student at Southeast High School and president of the photography club. Of course! "So what was that call last night about?" mom asks. "You would not believe it, even if I tried explaining it" you say, unsure of how to explain the night you just had. [[Next->amnesia]]

Thank you for playing. > **[[THE END]]**

You wake up again, but nothing has changed. You know what you have to do. [[Go upstairs and talk to mom]]

You tell your mom all about how suddently you seemed to have just materialized at Sherri's Diner, with no previous memory. It was as if you were a character in a video game, spawning in the middle of an ongoing story. This was just the figure of speech you used of course, no self-respecting game-developer would be so lazy as to start a story like that. Mom, supportive as she is, believes you. "Now an experience like that is no laughing matter!" she tells you, so you two head over to the hospital for an examination. You go in, and Doctor Peterson makes sure to run a few very important cognitive exams, followed by many, many other much less important ones, which meant a day at the hospital for you. After waiting for hours in the emergency room, Doctor Peterson has finally come to tell you your diagnosis: >[[Diagnosis]]

"Thank you for waiting. Sorry that took longer than expected—those CT exam technicians, I’ll tell you. Anyway, we just needed to be absolutely sure there wasn’t a stroke. Good news—no stroke." “So what happened to her?” your mom asks “Well, this seems to be a case of what we call GTA” “Grand Theft Auto?” you ask “No” “Greater Toronto Area?” your mom chimes in “No, not that either. Let me just explain so we can all get on with our lives. GTA stands for General Transient Amnesia. It’s a strange temporary condition that prevents a person from forming or recalling memories, almost like the they got wiped.” “So, what causes it?” mom asks. “That’s the weird part—there’s no clear cause. It can happen to anyone, at any time. Usually, it affects older people, but younger ones—like Alex—can experience it too. Nothing to worry about, though. Just continue life as usual. It probably won’t happen again, but if it does, give me a call.” And that was that. With time, the strangest night of your life became a faint memory of the past. Every so often, Meghan or Josh will bring up “the time Alex got amnesia for four hours,” and you three have a good laugh about it. Just one of those weird things that happens sometimes... > **[[THE END]]**

Wanna try a different path? > **[[Back to the diner ->Diner]]**

The memory of dad, it hits you like a truck. You can't help but to fully breakdown into tears. "Dad!" you let out, in between desperate crying breaths. You can't believe you had forgotten dad. Slowly, many other memories start coming back. You know who you are. You are Alex Moore, senior student at Southeast High School and president of the photography club. After the relief of having your memories return you take a moment to ragain composure, before deciding to make your way home. Once inside, you know what you need to do. [[Go upstairs and talk to mom]]