Every Morning I Wake Up With No Memory Of The Day Before And A Mysterious Wound—Then I Installed A Camera And Uncovered A Terrifying Truth

One morning, as an editor at a television station, I went to work. Because of the memory loss, I couldn’t focus on the broadcasting live, I made a serious mistake. I misread an extremely important piece of information, damaging the station’s reputation. My boss called me into a meeting room right after the broadcast. He sat behind his desk, his hands clasped together, his sharp gaze fixed on me.

“Lily, do you know what you just did?” His voice was deep but cold. “You not only affected yourself, but also the team and the station’s credibility.”
I tried to keep my voice calm. “Sir, I… I really don’t know what happened. I had prepared very carefully…”

He interrupted me. “No need to explain. This isn’t the first time you’ve had problems with work recently. We can’t let this happen again. You will have to take a three-month break to reflect on yourself.”

I was frozen. “Three months…?” I repeated, my voice choking. “But, sir, I…”
He shook his head, his gaze full of disappointment. “It’s over, Lily. Rest and reconsider everything.”

I stood up, feeling like the whole world was crumbling beneath my feet. Leaving the room, I quietly packed my things. My colleagues’ eyes avoided mine, none of them said a word. I walked out of the station in silence, tears streaming down my face without me even noticing.

That evening, as I reached the door of my house, I saw Jack standing there, his familiar figure now somehow distant. My heart stopped. Jack, my ex-boyfriend whom I had given six years of my youth, the one who left me not long ago, was standing there.

Jack handed me a wedding invitation. I was stunned. He was about to get married, just a few months after we broke up.

“Jack? What are you doing here?” I asked, trying to keep my voice calm, but my heart was pounding.
He didn’t answer immediately, only handed me an envelope. “I think you should know about this,” he said, his voice hoarse.

I opened the envelope, and my heart stopped when I saw the words: Wedding Invitation.
I stammered, “You… you’re getting married?”

Jack looked at me, his eyes somewhat regretful but unwavering. “Yes. I thought you should hear this from me, not from someone else.”

I laughed, a bitter laugh. “You think I’ll be grateful for that? Do you know what you’ve done, Jack? You broke up with me because you said you didn’t believe in marriage. And now, less than six months later, you’re marrying someone else?”

He was silent for a few seconds, then sighed. “Lily, it’s not like you think. I didn’t want to hurt you…”

“Hurt me?” I shouted, unable to hold back my tears. “You destroyed me, Jack! You took six years of my life, then threw me out like I was worthless. And now, you come here with a wedding invitation, expecting me to congratulate you?”

“Lily…” He tried to say something, but I raised my hand to stop him.
“Enough,” I said, my voice trembling. “Go, Jack. Go live with your fake happiness. I don’t need to hear anything more.”

He stood there for a moment, like he wanted to say something, but then turned and walked away. The door slammed shut, and I collapsed onto the floor, tears streaming uncontrollably.

In the darkness of the room, I turned on the TV, and looked at the screen. The new editor was sitting in my spot. I held the wedding invitation in my hand, and tears just kept flowing. I asked myself: Why did everything turn out like this? What did I do wrong to deserve all this? But deep in my mind, another thought flickered: Could this be just the beginning of something even worse?

A month later, I reluctantly attended Jack’s wedding, my ex-boyfriend. I knew I shouldn’t go, but I couldn’t refuse when he came all the way to invite me. The wedding was a joyful celebration, full of laughter, but for me, everything felt like a play with no room for me to participate.

I sat silently in the corner of the room, unable to take my eyes off Jack and his new bride. Hand in hand, they walked into the ceremony, smiles beaming on their faces, as if everything were perfect. My heart seemed to tighten, and a sharp pain suddenly filled my chest. I felt truly pathetic. Did I ever think I would have to witness this moment? Watching them so happy while I stood here, in the shadow of the past, a part of him that I once believed was mine.

When the video of Jack’s proposal was played on the big screen, I almost choked. One detail in the video shook me. The small scar on his cheek in the video.

That scar was all too familiar. It was the same scar I had seen on his face the day he threw me a 26th birthday party. It was the day we had a huge argument. We couldn’t understand each other, and then he disappeared for the entire evening without any explanation.

Now, everything I had tried to forget came rushing back like a huge wave. Jack and that woman had been having an affair while we were still together. And the day we broke up was the day he proposed to her. It felt like I had been slapped across the face—painful and impossible to accept. I didn’t want to believe it, but now everything was clearer than ever.

I turned and sat back down, no longer having the strength to keep watching them. Everything around me grew blurry, but in my mind, everything was too sharp, too painful. Why didn’t I realize it sooner? Why had I been so blind? How had I loved him so much that I didn’t see the betrayal right before my eyes?

When I left the wedding, my mind was empty. I felt like I had lost everything. How many times had I told myself that everything would be fine, but now I was left with nothing but disappointment and a pain that couldn’t be erased.

Back home, all I wanted was to bury myself in bed, but I could only sit there, frozen, tears streaming down my face. I didn’t know what to do anymore, I just wanted to escape reality. It felt like everything I had tried to build had collapsed in an instant. I couldn’t take it anymore.

Finally, I collapsed on the bed and fell asleep, but the physical exhaustion wasn’t enough to erase the pain in my soul.

After that day, the memory loss came back. When I woke up in the morning, I noticed a new injury on my arm. To figure out what I had been doing while sleepwalking or something, I decided to have someone install cameras in my house.

The next morning, when I watched the footage from the cameras, my heart stopped. The scene in the video was horrifying.

I had woken up around 3 pm, then got up, walked to the wardrobe. I pulled out an orange jumpsuit and put it on, then left the house. I returned around 9 PM, took a shower, and went back to sleep as if nothing had happened.

I searched the wardrobe and found the orange jumpsuit from the video. It had the logo of a car repair shop. But I had never worked there. I had never seen this outfit before. Why couldn’t I remember anything I had done? How could I have done this and not remembered it?

It felt like I was living in a horror movie, where I was the main character, but I couldn’t grasp the storyline of my own life.

I hurriedly got dressed, my heart pounding as I thought about what I had to do. The image of the orange jumpsuit with the car wash logo still haunted me, and I couldn’t stop thinking about the question I needed answered: Why had I worn that uniform? I couldn’t continue living in this confusion. I had to find the answer.

With determination, I drove to the repair shop I had seen in the video, following the directions from the jumpsuit. When I arrived, I couldn’t believe my eyes: a strange guy suddenly approached, hugged me, and called me by the name I had tried to forget—Emma.

“Emma, why are you here so early today?” he asked, his tone intimate, as if we had known each other for a long time. “Where shall we go for our date tonight?”

I froze, unable to understand his words. Emma? I’m Lily, and I didn’t know who he was. Why was he calling me Emma? That name… the name I had tried to forget. I felt like I was living in a nightmare.

He kept talking, but everything around me seemed muffled. His words felt like distant echoes. I couldn’t hear clearly anymore. I just felt confused, deeply puzzled. How could I be here, in this situation? Why couldn’t I remember who he was?

When he lightly shook my shoulder, I snapped out of it and asked him, “Who are you?” His eyes looked worried, and in his voice, there was a hint of confusion. “What’s wrong?” he asked. “I’m Erik. We’re a couple, don’t you remember? We’ve been dating for a month.”

That sentence hit me like a slap in the face. A month? We were a couple? I couldn’t believe my ears. My heart felt tight. How could this be? How could I not remember him? I tried to pull his hand off my shoulder and stepped back a little.

At that moment, I felt completely out of control. I hurriedly walked away, not saying another word. I couldn’t stay there. I couldn’t continue living in this strange world that I couldn’t understand.

When I got home, I couldn’t stop thinking about what had happened. I knew I needed answers, and I couldn’t do it alone. I needed to see my doctor.

I picked up the phone, which held the videos I had recorded over the past few days. The blurry images, the unanswered questions, and the story of Emma.

When I saw my doctor, I told him everything, leaving nothing out. I showed him the videos and recounted every detail. “Doctor, I don’t understand what’s happening. This name, Emma, I just can’t grasp it. Why are they calling me Emma?”

The doctor looked at me seriously, then gently said, “You might be dealing with a complex psychological issue. You could be experiencing a personality disorder. Another personality might be controlling you without your awareness. Can you tell me about anything that happened in your past?”

I paused for a moment, then hesitantly answered, “Emma… was my sister. She was so innocent and always cheerful. But Emma got too much love. While my parents often treated me like an outcast, they adored and spoiled her.”

I continued, “And then, one day, when we were playing hide and seek, she hid on a truck. When the truck started moving, she knocked on the door and called for me, but I… I didn’t save her. I let her go, I ignored her. I don’t want to think about it, I’ve tried to forget, but now… everything is coming back.”

The doctor said nothing more, just stared at me. The story I had just shared felt like a scar on my soul, a wound that could never heal. “Emma is missing… and I can’t forgive myself,” I whispered, feeling as if everything around me was collapsing.

The doctor gently placed his hand on my shoulder, as if to comfort me. But I knew, I could never escape this past.

The doctor stared at me for a long while, his eyes seemingly searching every corner of my soul. Finally, he spoke: “You might feel guilty for abandoning your sister, and that could be why you tend to transform into her. A part of your personality might have tried to do things that Emma could have done to resolve that inner torment. And at the same time, it might be an escape from the painful life you’re living now. I suggest you try to speak with this personality, face it, and work through it.”

The doctor’s words were like a slap to my mind. I tried to accept them, but my heart still felt like a tangled mess I couldn’t untangle. When I got home, life felt so ironic. Why had everything become so crazy? Why did I have to live in this never-ending nightmare?

Looking at the family photo, Emma’s gaze in it still seemed to be looking at me, silently, full of understanding but also sorrow. How could I face that little girl after everything that had happened? I felt guilty like I was trapped in a vicious cycle with no way out.

That night, I wrote in my journal, hoping to communicate with Emma, hoping she could hear me, that she could understand what I wanted to say. “I’m so sorry. I can’t forgive myself for abandoning you. But if you can read this, please tell me where you are and how you feel,” I wrote, my hands trembling as I held the pen.

The next morning, when I opened my journal, my heart stopped when I saw a strange line, not written by me, but by Emma. “Sis, I’m living a very happy life. I have a boyfriend and a job I love. Sis, I know you’re living a life of suffering, but if you want, you can become me, live as me, so you can find happiness.”

Emma’s words left me stunned. Was she really living happily? And what about me? I was still struggling with the pain I had created. Should I listen to Emma? Should I become someone else to live a simpler, easier life?

So, I decided to become Emma. I wanted to escape this painful, harsh life and live hers. The next day, I wore the orange uniform Emma usually wore when she worked at the auto repair shop. As I stepped into the shop, it felt like I could finally breathe after years of suffocating. Emma’s life was truly simple, without the burdens and pain my life had held before.

Living as Emma, I felt real happiness, at least temporarily. I was cared for and loved by her boyfriend. I did a job where I didn’t have to worry much, and I felt relieved. I no longer had to carry the pain of Lily.

But by the end of the day, when Erik drove me home, a wave of guilt began to rise within me. I looked at him, and at that moment, I knew I couldn’t continue living like this. It wasn’t that I was living my sister’s life, but that I had been deceiving him, the man who loved me with all his heart. I couldn’t keep lying to him anymore.

When the car stopped, I turned to him and said, my throat tight. “Erik… can I tell you something?”
He looked at me in surprise, then asked, “What’s wrong? You seem different today. Are you okay?”

I took a deep breath, then decided to tell the truth. “Actually… I’m not Emma. My name is Lily. The doctor said I have two personalities, and Emma is just another part of me.”

He stared at me, shock clear on his face. He couldn’t believe what I had just said. “I don’t understand. But… how did this happen?”

Tears began to fall, and I couldn’t stop them. “I’m sorry… I don’t know what to do anymore. I’ve been living with guilt and torment for so many years, I just wanted to find a way out, and Emma was that way out. But I can’t hurt you anymore.”

He was silent for a moment, then gently said, “I… I need time to think. This is too much for me. I can’t just believe it right away. But I’ll need some time.”

The next morning, as I was still wrestling with my thoughts, I received a strange phone call. A familiar voice on the other end said she wanted to meet me. I went to the café as invited. And when I saw her walk in, I could hardly breathe. It was Emma – my sister, the one I had abandoned all those years ago.

I choked up, struggling to speak. “You… You are… Emma?”
She smiled softly, but her eyes were full of understanding. “Yes, sis. Did you recognize me?”

I wanted to say something, but my throat tightened, and no words came out. My heart was filled with guilt, and I couldn’t bear to look her in the eye.

Seeing me so overwhelmed, Emma continued, “Your doctor found me, told me everything happened to you and your illness, and asked me for help. So I decided to contact you to tell you that my life now is very happy. After what happened, I was adopted by a wealthy family, and I’ve had a fulfilling life. So, you don’t have to torment yourself and live in so much pain anymore. Although I can’t forgive what you did, I also can’t bear to see you suffering like this.”

I sat there in silence. Her words cut into my heart, but at the same time, they were a form of release. It wasn’t a complete forgiveness, but at least it was understanding, and compassion that I never dared to hope for. A part of me felt relief, while the other part was shattered with pain.

After that day, Emma’s persona disappeared, and I was ready to face my own pain.

Erik no longer called me Emma. He called me Lily. He came to find me and wanted to start over, not to love Emma, but to love me, the real Lily. And after all those years of living in the shadow of my past, I finally agreed. We started fresh, beginning a new life together.

Now, I finally find true happiness. Not by living under a false identity, but by accepting myself, with all the wounds and mistakes from my past.

This story draws inspiration from real-life events and individuals, but it has been adapted and fictionalized for creative expression. Names, characters, and specific details have been altered to protect individuals’ privacy and to enhance the storyline. Any similarity to real persons, living or deceased, or actual events is coincidental and unintentional.