The dreadful façade

The dreadful façade by Team

When I opened my eyes, they couldn’t focus for a few moments. My eyesight improved, but intense pain in my temples caused me to strain even harder. I could feel the agony rush through my body as I gradually came to my consciousness. It was as if you were discovering aspects of yourself that you were previously unaware of.

It took me a moment to realize I was resting alongside the road in the middle of the night. I’m not sure what time it was. The cold was merciless. My legs were freezing despite the fact that I was wearing a coat. I shouldn’t have chosen to wear a miniskirt in the first place. For me, they were a little small. Dirt had surrounded me. Which made me question how long I’d been unconscious.

Where was I, exactly? What brought me here?

Hold on!

Who was I, exactly? I couldn’t recall who I was or what my name was. I examined my head for signs of concussion but found nothing. So, what happened and how?

Drugs? Benzodiazepines? What made you think I knew that word? I examined my arms for any signs of puncture wounds but found none. Is it likely that the dosage will be taken orally? Was I a junkie, or was this something that happened to me?

I rose up and took a good look at myself. I was a kid at the time. However, he should not be too young. I rummaged through my pockets, pretty certain I could not find anything. I was mistaken. I was carrying a small purse with me. There was only a small bit of cash, a few pence, and a parking fine.

The 16th of October, 1994, in Tokyo.

Was I a twenty-something Tokyo lady who understood about Benzodiazepines but didn’t know her own identity? Wonderful. When I flipped the ticket over, I noticed a handwritten numerical.


I emerged from the woods and onto the roadway. The highway appeared to be deserted. Isn’t there an only one vehicle? Are you in Tokyo? How did that happen? As I began walking, I noticed lights in the distant. It appeared to be a service station. It was most likely the case.

I accelerated my speed, tightening my grip on my coat and clenching my jaws, and the anguish threatened to shatter me. When I got to the store, I debated whether or not to go inside. At the very least, I determined I had to consume something. When I entered, I noticed an older lady behind the desk. I gave her a warm welcome. She began to look up and laughed at me, her face flushed with dread.

“Do you mind if I use the washroom?”

As I previously stated. She simply stared at me. This was starting to make me concerned.

I laughed and said, “I’ll purchase food and supplies, not for free.”

She only shook her wrinkling finger and gestured to the back of the shop. I dashed inside the bathroom, knocked on the door, and glanced in the mirror. My heart raced a little faster. My face was severely deformed. I couldn’t tell whose face I was staring at. I examined the rest of my physique and found it to be in good condition.

Jesus! What exactly am I?

I changed into my clothes and headed out, trying not to glance at the elderly lady. I strolled down one hallway and grabbed some beverages, pain relievers, and a shawl. I gave her money and asked her a question without looking her in the eyes-

“Can you tell me how far Tokyo is?”

“At least eight kilometers”

“How come the highway is so empty?”

“Is it true that the government has declared a state of emergency?”

“What is it for?”

“They’re destroying drug cartels,” says the narrator. A slew of drug dealers have been apprehended. There are gang battles and assassinations all across the city.”


When I heard her scream, “What happened to you?” I began walking towards the entrance. I went away without turning and remarked, “Insect bite.”

As I walked out of the business, I noticed an NTT booth just outside. I took out the ticket with the numbers and walked right in. Carefully, I dialed the phone number. Just in case, I memorized it as well. The ringing started. I awaited with eager anticipation. Now I was going to look for some solutions.

“Hi?” said an English-speaking voice.

I didn’t say anything.

“Can you tell me who this is?”.

It was a man’s voice that I heard. It had a British ring to it. How did I acquire my command of the English language? From what I could see in the mirror, I definitely looked Japanese. I didn’t know what to say.

“Who the fuck is this?!”

Then I spoke the only thing I could think of that night.


Benzodiazepines, sometimes known as Benzos, came in a variety of forms. It was a huge gamble, to say the least. From the other side, I only heard stillness. A truck went by.

“Where have you gone?” the voice questioned.

“I have no clue,” I confessed. He apologized, saying, “I’m sorry everything went horribly wrong.”

“What should I do now?”, I stated. More silence followed. He had no idea how to aid me. “Listen, get back to the station, and we’ll work this out,” he said quickly, “I must go now, they’re looking for us.”

“Hold on!”

I only heard a beep. Distressed, I walked away. Who is on the lookout for us? And why is that? It hit me all of a sudden. The remarks of the elderly lady. They’re taking down rackets. Dealers are being detained. This was not going in the direction I wanted it to go.

Back into the store I dashed. I was awakened by the sound of police sirens. When I turned around, three police cars were speeding by me. The vehicle that passed by when I was in the booth came to mind. There had been a state of emergency issued. What was the purpose of the lorries outside? When I walked into the store, I noticed an elderly woman gazing at the television news. A report on the drug trade was on the air. A plastic surgeon was detained for allegedly assisting criminals in obscuring their identification and changing their looks. I shouted, “Switch that off.” I suddenly realized something.

I recognized who I was and what I used to be. The face has changed. Amnesia caused by a drug. I was attempting to bring an end to a chapter of my life that was about to kill me. However, it stuck to me like a disease. She gave me a terrified look but didn’t do it. The following narrative was about to be aired. On the suburbs of Tokyo, authorities discovered the body of a teenage girl. Her garments had vanished. She was last spotted wearing a black miniskirt and a brown jacket.

Her terrified small eyes followed the contours of my body. I was staring at my brown jacket and black miniskirt, both of which were far too short for me. This aspect didn’t appeal to me, but it had to be completed at some point. Never ever leave a evidence. The first rule I learned in the pharmaceutical industry. I took a large kitchen knife from the counter and stared her down.

I kneeled and said, “I apologize.” She wanted to scream, but it never came out of her throat. I brushed the blood from my shawl onto my damaged flesh with my fingertips. I returned my gaze to her, who was laying in a puddle of blood, and instantly turned aside. I needed to return to camp. I needed to take care of some stuff.




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