Chapter 3
1373words
Today I finally gathered the courage to do something—call the police.
At nine o'clock in the morning, the couple prepared to go out grocery shopping as usual. The woman was organizing the shopping bags, the man was checking his wallet, and their conversation was quite ordinary: what vegetables to buy today, how the weather was, and how the neighbor's dog had been barking all night again.
"Michael, we're going out for a while, and will be back in about an hour," the woman came up to me and gently stroked my forehead. "Remember to take your medicine on time, there's yogurt in the refrigerator."
"Okay." I tried to make my voice sound calm.
The door closed, and footsteps gradually faded away. I waited for a full ten minutes, and after making sure they had truly left, I immediately picked up the phone and dialed 110.
"Hello, this is the Nanjing Police Department emergency service."
"Hello, officer, I need urgent help," I lowered my voice. "I'm being held captive at home by two strangers who claim to be my parents, but I don't know them at all."
"Please explain your situation in detail, sir."
"My name is......" I suddenly realized I couldn't remember my real name, so I could only provide the information on my ID card, "I live at 127 Songhua Street, Jianhua District, 4th floor. Three days ago, a couple in their fifties barged into my home using keys. The man wore a gray sweater, and the woman had short hair. They had all the keys to my place, including the new lock I just installed."
"Are you sure you don't know these two people?"
"Absolutely not! They claim to be my parents, but I have no memory of them whatsoever. They've been forcing me to take prescription medication, zopiclone tablets, saying I have a mental illness that needs treatment. But I've never been to a hospital, and I don't have any mental problems."
The operator's tone became more serious: "Are you currently in a safe situation?"
"For now, yes. They went out grocery shopping, but they could return anytime. Please send someone immediately. I'm worried they might do something more dangerous to me."
"Alright, we'll dispatch officers right away. Please stay calm and avoid direct confrontation with them. The police will arrive in about fifteen minutes."
After hanging up the phone, I felt an unprecedented relief. Finally, finally someone was coming to help me. The fear, confusion, and despair of these three days were about to end.
I waited by the window, my heart pounding. Twelve minutes later, a police car stopped downstairs.
I practically rushed to the door to wait for them.
"Knock knock knock——" The knocking sounded.
"Police, please open the door." It was a young male voice.
I immediately opened the door to see two uniformed officers: an older policeman about forty-something with a serious expression; and a younger auxiliary officer in his twenties holding a notebook.
"Officer! Thank goodness!" My voice trembled with excitement, "It's that couple pretending to be my parents!"
The older officer asked to see my ID card, and after carefully checking it, he nodded: "Two people impersonated your family members and broke into your residence?"
"Yes! They have keys to my home and even brought forged identification!"
Just then, familiar footsteps sounded from the stairwell.
"Why is there a police car?"
"Don't know, maybe something happened to someone."
The couple appeared at the door, surprise flashing across their faces when they saw the police.
"Officer, what's going on?" The man stepped forward, his manner naturally cooperative.
"We received a report about a domestic dispute. May I ask your identities?"
"We are this child's parents." The woman took out her ID card, "He has an unstable mental condition and is undergoing treatment. He might be having an episode again."
"Don't believe them! They are not my parents!"
"Sir, please calm down," the young auxiliary police officer said gently. "We need to verify the situation further. Do you have any other materials that can prove your relationship?"
The woman nodded and took out a stack of documents from her bag: "Here is the child's birth certificate, household registration book, and medical diagnosis certificate."
I watched helplessly as the two police officers carefully examined those documents. The expression of the older officer gradually changed from suspicion to understanding, while the young auxiliary officer nodded from time to time.
"According to the documents, you are indeed their son, and the property is registered under your father's name. Here is the hospital diagnosis certificate showing you have acute stress reaction and memory impairment."
"Impossible!" I felt dizzy, "I rented this apartment! I have a rental contract! And what kind of parents would carry so many documents with them! I—"
"Michael," the man approached, his expression full of helplessness and concern, "After you came here, we worried you couldn't live independently, so we bought you an apartment. Since you insisted on not relying on us, we had to sign this rental contract. We brought these documents because you've been having these episodes frequently lately."
The senior police officer took out his phone and started dialing: "I'll verify the property and household registration information."
A few minutes later, he hung up: "After verification, the property registration, household relationship, and medical records are all authentic. This is indeed a legitimate family."
I felt the whole world collapsing: "No! There must be some mistake! Check again!"
"Sir," the older policeman's tone became gentle but firm, "I understand your confusion right now. But according to our investigation, these two are indeed your legal guardians. Your current condition requires family care and medical treatment."
"Look, this is the diagnostic certificate issued by the Psychiatric Department of the Third People's Hospital," the young auxiliary police officer pointed to the document, "It clearly states that you are suffering from acute stress reaction, accompanied by memory impairment and persecutory delusion symptoms. The doctor recommends family assistance in supervising medication and regular follow-up visits."
Persecutory delusion symptoms? I'm not delusional! I'm really trapped!
"No! You've been deceived!" I grabbed the older policeman's arm, "This is a huge conspiracy! They've forged all the documents, and may have even bribed the hospital! You must believe me!"
The two policemen exchanged glances, a look of understanding flashing in their eyes.
But the police were already preparing to leave: "Please take good care of him, and contact the hospital promptly if there are any changes."
The door closed.
The police left.
I slumped onto the sofa, feeling a despair I had never experienced before.
It wasn't just these two strangers claiming to know me; now even the police, government departments, and hospitals were supporting their claims.
Either there was a massive conspiracy—large enough to manipulate government databases, medical systems, and law enforcement.
Or I was truly insane.
"Do you still have any doubts now?" The man crouched down, looking directly into my eyes. "Even government agencies have confirmed our legitimate identities. We're not lying to you; you really are sick."
I raised my head, looking at their two unfamiliar faces. In their eyes, I saw sincerity, concern, and some kind of deep pain.
If they really were imposters, their acting skills were too perfect.
If this really was a conspiracy, then the scale of this conspiracy had exceeded the limits of my understanding.
"I... I don't know what to believe anymore," my voice was as small as a mosquito's.
"Just trust us," the woman said gently, "trust in our love. No matter what issues your memory is having, our love for you will never change."
She took out two white pills from the medicine box: "Here, take your medicine. This will make you feel better."
I looked at the pills, as if looking at two choices: trust them and admit I'm sick, or continue to resist and wait for salvation.
I reached out with a trembling hand, took the pills, and swallowed them with water.
A bitter taste spread on my tongue, just like my current mood.
Whether this was treatment or poison, whether they were family or enemies, I no longer had a choice.
The entire world was telling me: you're crazy.
Perhaps, perhaps I really am crazy.
