It ended with the screeching of tires

  A gasp, a quick intake of air to brace for the collision

  Lights brighter than they should’ve been

  An impact that shattered bones and knocked the blood loose from his veins

  Asphalt rushing up to meet his flailing body

  A crack and then…

  silence

  It’s cold.

  That was the first thought that popped into his head, as sensation crawled in at the edge of his consciousness.

  It’s dark.

  That was the second thought that popped into his head, before two minds worth of memory fought to take up space in a single brain.

  He groaned, his eyes watering through the pain. Memories battled like two colors mixing in clear water, twirling, flowing, and bumping into one another. One set of memories, the original, had the home-field advantage however, it was weak and fading. The other set of memories, the new, was the invader but it was more plentiful and fresh.

  The two sets of memories battled in his mind, each clash creating a new wave of pain that throttled his consciousness. He couldn’t say how long the battle raged, or which side was winning, but eventually, there came a final convergence. His mind felt swollen to bursting and as the two forces crashed against each other, until something gave way. With a rush of relief, the two sets of memories seemed to melt into one another and the pain changed to confusion.

  Freed from the violence of his mind, his senses started to return. That same cold was still present, but something warm pressed against him. The darkness had also changed, from an all consuming black to the dim light of closed eyelids. Slowly, he became familiar with his body again.

  What he noticed first was a pervading weakness in all his limbs. Which made sense, since he’d just been in a car crash… or had he passed out in the snow? Somehow he was sure both things had happened. Next, he realized he was jostling and there was breathing, shouting, and people speaking quickly all around him. Speaking in a language he knew, but didn’t recognize.

  Something compelled him to try and make sense of all the confusion he was experiencing. So, he opened his eyes to see a man, much bigger than himself, carrying him under a cloudless sky. Why was he carrying him? Who was

  Dad

  Dad, that was his dad carrying him. Big strong dad, who always knew what to do. Clouds of hot breath escaped Dad’s mouth as he carried him through the forest, down the field he and his friends were playing in.

  “Oh, it was Dad.” That was the warmth he noticed earlier and the jostling.

  His father looked down at him for just a second, enough to register the panic on his features, before turning back to look ahead of them.

  “It’s okay Pakin! You’re gonna be alright.” The new memories told him that his Dad was saying it to reassure himself more than Pakin.

  Right, he was Pakin. At least he thought so. If Dad was saying so, then it must be right. He was too tired to think about why that didn’t sound right, or why his Dad looked so familiar yet so strange. Sleep was coming for him, and before it took him completely, Pakin managed to whisper.

  “If you say so.”

  Pakin tried hard not to squint as the doctor shone a beam of light from one eye to the other. After a few seconds looking in each eye the doctor, Mr. Kucha, leaned back and offered Pakin an easy grin.

  “Okay Pakin, looks like your eyes are just fine. My special doctor-beam told me so!”

  It took a beat of awkward silence for Pakin to realize the man was making a joke.

  “Oh! Haha. Thanks, doctor Kucha… I don’t have a concussion or anything, though, do I?”

  Dr.Kucha’s grin fell a little before he replied

  “No, no concussions.” Dr.Kucha replied “But aren’t you a smart cookie, Pakin? I didn’t know you were aiming to be a doctor.”

  Pakin took a second to ponder the question before he answered.

  “No, I don’t think I am.”

  Pakin noticed Dr.Kucha’s face start to morph towards confusion before he caught himself. “Well… anyways! Last, but not least, is the memory test. I’m going to ask you some questions and you just need to try your best to answer them, okay?”

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  Pakin nodded.

  “Okay! How old are you?”

  “I’m ten years old.” Just like the doctor’s name, the answer came almost unbidden.

  “Where are you from?”

  “Fuwayama village.”

  “What does your dad do for work?”

  “He’s the town blacksmith. Lately, he’s been fixing a lot of door hinges.”

  “Hahaha I bet he has, folks get impatient with their doors sticking in the cold and rip the dang things right off!”

  “Didn’t you have to help Mr.Goro after his door broke?”

  That seemed to tickle Mr.Kucha as he giggled in his chair.

  “Yep! The man’s hand looked like a hedgehog! Took me two hours to pluck all the splinters out.”

  Pakin couldn’t help but giggle with the doctor. The old memories told him that the doctor’s laugh had always been infectious.

  “Okay, okay, enough laughing at Goro’s expense. Time for the last question. Are you ready?” The doctor asked, switching from his usual grin to mock seriousness.

  Pakin covered his mouth as he stifled his giggles “Yes sir.”

  “Alright! Who is your best friend in the village?”

  Pakin waited, but the old memories seemed reluctant to answer. A sense of unease built in his gut as Pakin tried to pull the memory forward. Who was his best friend? That should be an easy question to answer for any ten-year-old in a small village, right? As he tried harder and harder to pull the answer from the memories he knew he was supposed to have, the doctor’s face lost some of its joviality. Panic bubbled in his gut, and he started to beg the old memories for his best friend's name, as an answer to a question that hadn’t been asked emerged.

  He wasn’t Pakin.

  At least not anymore. Whatever battle had occurred in his mind, he now knew there was a definite victor. The new memories had won over the old and he wasn’t just Pakin anymore. Now he was somebody else in Pakin’s body, with pieces of Pakin mixed in to create something kind of new.

  As he came to this new realization, the answer to the doctor’s question came forward as well and he understood why it had taken so long. The old boy had a crush, and he was embarrassed. Embarrassed because…

  “My best friend is Hika… your daughter, sir.”

  A blush that came from feelings that didn’t belong to him crept onto his cheeks and he turned to hide his face.

  “You had me worried there for a second Pakin. Hika would’ve been devastated if her best friend forgot about her.”

  The genuine sadness in the man’s voice made Pakin turn back to the man, only to see a gently smiling face looking back at him.

  “Although, I knew you’d never forget about her.” The implication was clear, and Pakin had to turn around again to avoid the man’s gaze.

  “Hahaha! No need to be embarrassed son! Over at my house, we have someone who wouldn’t forget you either!” With that, the man turned around and opened the curtain to reveal the rest of the room and Pakin’s parents on the other side. The doctor started to discuss Pakin’s health with his parents, but he found himself tuning it all out. The only thing he could hear was his own heartbeat as he tried to untangle his sudden discovery.

  There were a bunch of memories, fresher, newer, and different from the older ones, from the original Pakin. The him he was now seemed to be from those memories, but part of him still felt like Pakin. The name fit too well, he remembered his dad, Gakin, and how he’d just started teaching him to help around the forge. He remembered his mom, Mera, and how she’d taught him everything he knew about herding goats. He remembered Dr.Kucha, how he was always ready with a joke, and how he cared for Pakin as a doctor. He remembered Mrs.Pecha and all the sweets she’d share with him, all the stories she’d tell him and Hika around the fireplace. He remembered Hika, the young, precocious girl who dragged him everywhere despite his complaints. How they became fast friends from all his doctor’s visits. She’d sit with him in her dad’s office and play games with Pakin as he got his blood drawn or received vitamin infusions. How she made sure he was taking his pills and got enough sunshine to stay healthy. He remembered that if she’d been with the group of boys he’d been playing with, he never would’ve passed out in the snow. She always knew his limits because of-

  “OH THANK YOU DOCTOR!”

  His mother’s sudden cry drew him out of his thoughts. She was sobbing in his father’s arms, but why? She’d said thank you, so it wasn’t because of any bad news, right?

  The adults seemed to sense his attention and Dr.Kucha turned around to face him. Pakin took the time to register each of their faces. His father’s eyes were wet with tears, and a grin stretched from ear to ear. His mother was resting her head on his father’s shoulder, tears running freely down her cheek and nose. Dr.Kucha was even a little misty-eyed.

  “What? Is everything okay?”

  “More than okay son.” His father said.

  “Your dad’s right, Pakin. I did some tests while you were out since we were worried your sickness had gotten worse. However, when I checked the results, you were all clear. In fact, you were even better than all clear. You seem to be cured.”

  “Oh, you mean…” He asked, the old memories telling him it was impossible.

  “The wasting, it’s gone.”

  Tears started to fall from his cheeks and a relief flowed through him as if from some distant source. As his parents rushed forward to hug Pakin and Dr.Kucha started to laugh while talking about further tests, he started putting the pieces together.

  The old memories end with Pakin, the old Pakin, running through the winter snow with a group of other boys. Hika is out of town with her mom, visiting some distant town to take a test for something important so she wasn’t around to watch over him. The other boys kept asking Pakin to stay and play longer, and he was having so much fun. He was exhausted, but sometimes Pakin was exhausted for days and he was so tired of being tired. Plus, the other boys hardly ever asked him to play, because of his sickness. After pushing through, Pakin seemed to gain his second wind. He played and chased and tumbled through the snow with his friends. Then, like a guttering flame, Pakin’s memories seem to flicker before he falls forward and that’s where the old memories end. That’s where the old Pakin died.

  Whatever this Wasting was, it killed the old Pakin. He died out in the snow, laughing with his friends. Now, through some miracle, He had died and all his memories had flowed into Pakin’s dying body. The old Pakin was already dead though, of that he was sure, and all that was left were a spattering of memories that merged with the new ones. The new ones were foggy, maybe still settling into their new home, but he knew they were very different from the old Pakin's. The new memories were from an older boy, almost an adult. From a place much bigger than Pakin’s village. He was going to his last four years of school, with other almost adults. He died in a violent collision of noise, pain, and sound. Most of what he got were more notions and feelings than concrete memories, like from old Pakin. More than anything, though, they were sending him a feeling that mixed with the relief from old Pakin.

  A child had died, and he had taken his place. Not only that, but that child had died right before the thing that killed him disappeared. An overwhelming grief for two very different lives filled the new boy’s heart to overfull. Pakin cried, he joined the sobs of his parents for very different reasons.