They've been taken from me.
The thing that I hold most precious.
These doctors have taken them from me, and now they watch me.
They claim the reason I don't have my memories is because I hit my head.
But I don't believe them.
I don't know any of these things in this room.
Any number of them can be a memory collector like the box hanging on the wall.
It contains so many people and their stories. Surely it's capable of stealing memories from me.
And my head hurts. That's how I truly know that they stole them.
I'll go along with them for now. I have no other choice.
I don't have my memories to help me figure anything out.