Yellow is far too bright a color. It doesn’t suit me. There’s something too… cheery about it, too out there. It stands out too much, but I guess I used to like that.

Apparently, I liked it so much that over half my wardrobe is yellow. A wall in my room is yellow.

Yellow sheets, yellow pillows, accents here and there of the obnoxious color.

Yellow.

So much yellow.

Things change.

I don’t think I like yellow anymore.

“Lyric, honey!?” Serenity calls from downstairs.

Mom, I correct myself. It’s weird to call someone who seems like a stranger, mom. It’s probably weirder that I’m aware of what a mother is but don’t recognize my own.

I practically trip over Godzilla, the family dog. He jumps up to follow me to the kitchen where someone has already filled his food bowl.

He’s a huge thing, a grey and black Great Dane with, of course, a bright yellow collar. Since my return he’s taken to guarding my bedroom door and following me around the house. The only times he’s left my side is when he goes for runs with Alto or Harp.

The boys… my brothers, are already eating when I walk into the dining room. They stare. I feel like they’re always staring these days. I watch as they shoot glances at each other, one kicks another under the table, there’s a casual shove, and I watch a mouthed, ‘stop staring.’

I must remind myself that I’m probably as much a stranger to them as they are to me. I sit down slowly next to the youngest, Harp. He smiles shyly at me. Harp’s a little over a year younger than me. Even though he has a baby face, the rest of him is all lanky muscle from being involved in a bunch of sports that I barely remember.

He’s not the only muscled one, either. Everyone in the family is ripped, even me. Though my muscles have gone a little soft, I guess from the past few months of not working out. Though I did start running some mornings with Alto and Harp.

“You sleep well?” One of the older ones, Cadence, who is sitting in front of me asks. We share the same honey colored eyes, naturally tan skin, and dark hair as Serenity.

No, not really. But I can’t say that. I worry them enough.

Nod.

Smile.

Pretend.

What’s that saying again? Fake it till you feel it. I don’t know how I remember it. But that’s what I do, fake a smile. What I’ll continue doing until the day that I can be honest with them.

Cadence is perceptive, though. He shakes his head, purses his lips and gives me a sort of hurt look, but doesn’t argue with me. Instead he looks at his plate and moves the eggs around.

He would know if I’m lying, even if it’s just a simple nod, because we used to be close. With only about ten months apart, the two of us were apparently best friends. The only reason we weren’t in the same year in school was because my birthday falls in the winter and I wasn’t at the minimum age to start school when he started.

I’m not really sure what we would be classified as now. Siblings, yes. But are we still friends? It’s hard to stay close when you don’t remember someone.

“Well, that’s good,” Serenity says as she places a plate with pancakes and eggs in front of me. She’s used butter to put a smiley face on the pancakes.

Nod again. Smile again. Pretend everything is all right. But how can it be?

I don’t remember.

Anything.

I am told that I am Lyric Lysanne Lyons.

I am sixteen.

I have four siblings.

It’s been about four months now since the accident happened.

And now it’s like I’m sleepwalking. Like I’ve taken a life that isn’t mine. Even my name is strange. I have to remind myself of it sometimes.

Reid and Serenity are the parents.

Reid. Dad, I correct myself again. He’s a musician and has some job refurbishing old guitars or building cabinets or something. I’m not sure of the details.

Whatever it is, he must make good money with it, as the house we live in is relatively nice. It’s a beautiful two stories with a wraparound porch and huge fenced-in backyard.

At the moment he’s talking away to one of the oldest of my brothers about something in the paper. The two oldest in our family are identical twins and I still can’t tell them apart.

It doesn’t help that their hair styles are similar and they both tend to dress alike. The only times its easy is when Clef is wearing his scrubs and Alto is in his exercise gear. They’re the spitting image of Reid, with lighter eyes, hair, and skin than the rest of us.

Harp is the only one that is more of a mix of both Reid and Serenity, with his blue gray eyes and her dark hair, his build and her darker skin tone.

One of the twins leans back in his seat and Serenity begins chiding him, waving the spatula in the air.

Serenity is a singer.

The shared interest in music is probably why they chose music terms for all of us children as names. Serenity starts chattering with the chair leaning twin about his classes.

When they mention sports, I know that this one is Alto, who’s studying to be a personal trainer. He boxes and has a side job teaching mixed martial arts, is what I was told. That makes the one talking to Reid, Clef. Clef is pre-med and has an internship at Silver Pines General Hospital.

I had asked Cadence why they both still lived at home since they’re both in their mid-twenties, and he didn’t really know either, his only guess being that it’s cheaper. Clef lived in the dorms for a while and didn’t like it, and Alto just never left.

The brothers are staring again. Bela, one of the family cats, rubs against my legs and starts purring. Supposedly, Reid named him after his favorite musician. One of the boys sneaks him a bit of bacon under the table and he winds around my legs before moving to them.

There’s another cat somewhere that’s considered solely Cadence’s since it only allows him near it. He named her Perdita after his favorite Shakespeare play.

I turn and look at my plate. I can’t take the almost hopeful looks anymore. It makes it harder to pretend, pretend that I don’t feel guilty that I haven’t remembered.

The first month was spent with days dedicated trying to trigger memories. Reid played my favorite music, Serenity cooked my favorite foods, Harp had me watch my favorite shows and movies, Cadence took me around to some of our hang out spots, Alto and Clef told me stories about me.

Things like, ‘the scar on your knee is from this time when you ran right into a survey marker… one night we snuck out to the park and set off fireworks… you used to like eating frozen pudding until this time you ate entire container by yourself…’

We poured over albums and home videos.

But hours turned into days, into weeks, and soon the month was over, and I hadn’t remembered. Not even a little bit.

They haven’t stopped trying, but the light in their eyes is fading. I can’t help but feel their disappointment like a chain keeping a hot air balloon from rising. I’m not the same. I don’t know how to be.

“Hey Leary,” Clef says, leaning on his elbows over the table.

Leary, their nickname for me. It came from when I was a baby and Cadence was just learning how to speak. He had trouble making the c sound in Lyric, so it always sounded like he was saying Leary and the name stuck.

“We’re going out later and we wanted to know if you—”

“Long invitation short. We want you to come.” Cadence interjects. Clef shoots him a look. “Whaddaya say Leary?” Cadence asks.

There isn’t really a good way to say no when you have four pairs of eyes staring at you. Four people that know you better than you know yourself, since you don’t know yourself anymore. It doesn’t help that Reid and Serenity are giving me encouraging smiles. So, I can’t exactly say no… right?