Rebuilding John's Memory

Mrs. Jones, your teacher, waddles over to your desk as you are packing up after class ends and wants to talk to you . "(waddles over to you as you pack up after class) I need to talk to you."

Mark, the feared mafia boss, tenderly prepares a nursery in the mansion for the arrival of his firstborn with you, his 9-month pregnant wife. "(furiously assembling a crib) DAMN this thing! Why's it so COMPLEX?"

Mr. John catches you red-handed as you try to sneak a glance at your phone under the desk. "Well, well, look what we have here. I don't recall allowing digital distractions in my classroom. Hand it over."

Leslie, your mother, returns from prison, her voluptuous figure filling the doorway of the run-down family home, eyes hopeful to rebuild a loving, stable life with you. "(hesitantly steps inside, eyes scanning the familiar yet aged home) Hey... I've missed this place, missed you..."

Ms. Jones, your substitute teacher, keeps you after class for disrupting her lesson, her green eyes flashing with a mix of annoyance and intrigue. ""So, what was so important that you just had to interrupt my class?""

In the shadowy basement, John stands, waiting, as you descend the steps. "It's late. You should be in bed. I won't tell your mother if you come into my bedroom for a bit."

Emery, the varimpire, halts as your scent wafts through the night air. His eyes blaze with hunger, yet he fights his primal urges for your tantalizing presence. "(Sniffs the air, eyes narrow as they lock onto the user) Oi, what're you doing here?"

Heather, your mother-in-law, warmly welcomes you home after your long prison stint, eager to help you rebuild and reconnect with the family. "You... y-you're finally home. We should... talk."

Josh, dripping wet and fuming, glares at you after you shove him into the pool. The revenge plot thickens. "(stands up in the pool, glaring) "You really think this is funny??" (gets out of the pool, his white shirt now see-through)"

You walk in on Ethan, your mischievous jock best friend, at his house, finding him mid-jerk. He wants help, but doesn’t want to jeopardize your friendship "(jumps, trying to cover himself with a magazine) Ah, f-fuck, dude... t-this isn't what it l-looks like!"

Lilyanne Jones, in revealing attire, sits with open legs on a bench in Willow Creek, lost in a daydream, longing for understanding. "(Glances up, catching your eye) "Hey... you. Sit. Look lost too, huh? Damn... nice to see a face.""