Davy groaned, letting his eyes slide open. He sat up slowly, furrowing his eyebrows in confusion. Peter lie still in the bed next to him. Davy sighed, getting out of the bed, feeling extremely tired and sore. Walking to the living room, he was noticed by Mike and Micky.

“It’s about time you got up,” Mike said.

“Yeah, what happened to you and Peter last night?” Micky added. Davy stared at the two of them, his confusion increasing three-fold. He shook his head, pulling out a chair from underneath the kitchen table and sitting down.

“What do you mean?” Davy asked.

“We waited until one o’clock in the morning for you,” Mike recalled the night before in which he and Micky waited and worried for them to get back. They both ended up falling asleep on the couch. Mike had woken up, checked the bedroom and seen that Davy and Peter were sleeping soundly and decided to ask in the morning. So, he asked. “Well?”

“Umm, would you believe that I don’t have an answer for you?” Davy cringed as he received the look he did from Mike. He was quick to explain, “I don’t remember. Honestly, I can’t remember a thing that happened last night,”

”How?” Micky asked.

“Morning,” Peter walked out of the bedroom and joined them in the kitchen for breakfast.

“Here we go, Peter. What happened last night?” Mike said, turning to Peter. He hoped for a better answer than he got from Davy.

“Well, you see. We had some problems down there. We lost our jobs,” Peter said, with absolutely no hesitance and no reluctance towards Mike.

“You lost your jobs? How?” Micky marveled over this new discovery.

“Davy and I found this secret pas…” Peter trailed off, as his eyes wandered and his hand went to his head in pain. He winced; shaking his head as if it would clear the hurt he was suddenly feeling.

“Hey, Pete, what’s wrong?” Micky titled his head as he spoke. Mike stood up and walked around the table to Peter’s side.

“You all right, shotgun?” Mike placed a hand on Peter’s shoulder as Peter nodded faintly.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Just a headache is all,” Peter answered, finally bringing his hand down from his head, “Where was I?”

“You were explaining why you and Davy got fired,” Micky reminded him. Peter nodded in recollection as Mike went to sit down, his eyes never leaving Peter’s face.

“Johnson was having me mix this formula thing for him and I screwed it up and lots of stuff blew up so I was fired. Then Davy went to my defense and he got fired too,” Peter explained.

“OK,” Mike and Micky bought the fib, Peter’s sudden headache making them forget what Peter had begun to say seconds earlier. Mike continued, “But why doesn’t Davy remember any of that?”

”Yeah, why is that?” Davy wondered himself.

“Well, you see…uh, you see, what happened was…umm,” Peter stumbled, retracting his gaze to the ground, feeling it more comfortable to not look into their eyes. Especially Mike’s, whose stare was burning a hole into his heart.

You’re stuttering, why are you stuttering? You have nothing to hide. Tell them. Tell them what you know.

The voice in Peter’s head was so clear and crisp, his head snapped up, looking around to find its source. This sudden action caused the others to question him more. He couldn’t handle the pressure. It felt as if hot lights were pouring down through his skin and deep into his soul. His breathing sped up and he broke out in a light sweat. All the while, three sets of eyes bore into him stronger and stronger with each passing second. He couldn’t handle the pressure.

Think before you speak. If you speak wrong, regret isn’t all you’ll feel…

“No!” Peter shouted. He turned, very quickly, shunning away from their eyes. Those staring eyes that made the voices in his head persist. Peter ran to his room, shutting the door loudly, and sliding down the wood to the floor. He held his head in his hands as the headache worsened.

They’re growing suspicious. Give them an answer. Give them the one they want to hear.

“They want the truth!” Peter yelled in return.

But you don’t know the truth. Why does Davy not remember? Why are you arguing against the very sound of my voice? Tell me, Peter. Do you remember?

Peter urged himself not to answer. He tried to convince himself that the voice didn’t exist. That it was all in his head. However, that was just it. The voice was in his head.

The knock on the door startled Peter and he lifted his head, realizing he was leaning against the door. The interruption was enough to stop Peter’s thoughts, but he was not anxious for the interrogation he knew he was about to receive.

Peter rose from the floor, grasping the doorknob. He knew if he were to refuse to open the door, the suspicions would just increase. He sighed in relief as Davy walked through the doorway, although he didn’t really want to talk to anybody. Once the door was shut, Peter started with a question that was making him curious.

“Davy, tell me you were just pretending out there. You do remember what happened, right? You just don’t want to tell them.” Davy was silent. “Putting all that pressure on me wasn’t very nice. I don’t know what to tell them.”

”Neither do I,” Davy finally spoke. “I really don’t remember.”

Peter shook his head, doubting every word, “Pretending it didn’t happen isn’t going to make it go away.”

”You’re not helping.”

”Me? You’re the one who’s playing dumb and acting like a clueless idiot! At least I’m accepting it.” Peter pointed at Davy accusingly. He then sighed, “If what you’re telling me is the truth, then tell what the last thing you remember is.”

Davy paused, considering the question. “When I woke up yesterday. In fact, I thought I was dreaming waking up yesterday and that today were actually yesterday. If that makes any sense at all.”

”What’s happening to us?” Peter asked, simply. He suddenly bought the ‘story’ Davy kept insisting were true.

“I’m sorry that I don’t remember. I wish I did so I can feel your pain, Petah. This all has affected you so much; you’re acting so differently.”

”Am I?” Davy merely nodded. Peter winced, laying his forehead into his head.

“Headache again?”

“Yeah,” Peter paused, “It’s nothing.”

continued