I went out of the small bedroom I changed in. Andre – or whoever the fuck he is – lent me some of his clothes. I wore a long-sleeved oversized beige shirt coupled with maroon trousers and black leather boots. I definitely looked like a dork. I’d only ever wear clothes like these in middle-school plays, which I skipped countless of times. 
I headed to the small kitchen that overlooked the farm. There stood a middle-aged woman I wasn’t familiar with. She was chopping vegetables on the counter and constantly adding it to the brewing stew. Her ginger hair was tied up in a frizzy bun as she worked. 
The huge windows were opened wide and brought a lot of sunlight in the room, giving it a warm and cozy ambience. I could hear the hens cooing from a short distance. The warm breeze freshened up the quaint room. 
I’m not much of an appreciative guy but this feels nice. The ambient sounds of the breeze in the air as it sweeps across the grass and up the leaves of the highest trees felt as if they were all whispering a melody onto my ears. Sounds of birds chirping, chickens clucking, cows mooing, and the sound of life surrounds me. It feels nice to be out of the busy streets of the city and finally have some peace and relaxation in the countryside, away from nosy fucking people. 
Except, this isn’t just a normal countryside. This place feels strange yet familiar.  
I took small steps toward the dining table and took a seat. I tried my best to be quiet, but the chair made a creaking sound as I sat on it. Immediately, the woman glanced at me.  
“I see you’re done changing now, young man. My son told me there was a stranger swimming in the water troughs which isn’t a usual thing I hear every day.” She grinned. 
“It was an accident.” I said, slightly embarrassed. 
She didn’t answer. She simply continued dicing carrots and onions then added them to the stew.  
“What is a handsome young man like you doing in our chicken farm? I sure hope you have no ill intentions. Otherwise, I will have to call the soldiers to throw you in jail.” She continued to add spices and various different leafy herbs and stirred the stew. 
“I don’t know, honestly. I just woke up here for no reason, ma’am.” 
“Do you have any recollection of the happenings preceding now?” She asked as she took a sip from the stew using her wooden ladle. She seems to be satisfied of the taste and let out a faint grin as she continued to stir the pot.  
“Well, I was just headed home and strange as it may seem, fell off a crumbling bridge. Then I woke up in this place.” 
She snorted then looked at me. “Do you expect me to believe that? Are you a fool of some sort?” 
“Not exactly… I just found my way into an abandoned town to refresh my mind. Then, I went to a bridge, which unfortunately, crumbled for whatever fucking reason. I fell down from it. I thought I was going to die and now, here I am.” I shrugged. 
She raised a brow at me then placed her hands on her hips. Clearly, she doesn’t believe anything I’m saying right now. 
“Well. In spite of the… unlikely story. You are most welcome to stay at our home to rest before you go back to… the bridge… where you… fell.” She said in a sort of assuring yet confused way. 
I sighed. “Thank you for your kindness and hospitality. I will surely pay you back with whatever I have, whenever I can.” 
“Don’t feel obligated to do so. I don’t ask anything for return to help others.” 
After a few touches of spices and seasonings, she took the stew off the hearth then placed it on a stone counter. She took a generous amount of it then served it to me.  
The aroma of the delicious stew wafted in my ear. I was immediately appetized. I took huge sips of it then let it fill me up. Without realizing, I was eating ravenously. Only then did I realize I haven’t eaten anything that day. 
When I went to school just after waking up. Then cut class to go to an abandoned town, then fell down from a crumbling bridge. 
“You certainly seem famished.” She commented then bring out a soft chuckle. She must have noticed me relentlessly eating the food. 
“I suppose I am.” I took another handful of the stew then gobbled it up. “This is good.” 
“Of course, it is. It’s my grandmother’s recipe.” She answered with a smile. 
“And please, do call me Amara. I am just a confectioner from the local bakeshop, not some lady from the wealthy village.” 
“Alright, Amara.”  
“Well, you do have a name, don’t you?” 
“I’m Oliver. I’m a mere student who works part time.” Or at least did. 
She raised a brow. “A student? So, are you part of a well-off family? Only the children of the wealthy have the privilege to acquire education.” 
“No. You got it all wrong. I’m not rich whatsoever at all.” Back in my home, going to school is pretty much a normal thing. 
I’d explain that to her, but I doubt she’d believe it. 
Amara gave me a questioning look. 
“Never mind.” I sighed.  
“You sure are a lad filled with mysteries.” She shrugged then sorted the fruits she foraged into the woven baskets.  
“I have a lot of unanswered questions as well… But for now, I’m thankful for you letting me stay in your home.” 
She laughed softly. “Don’t stress about it, Oliver. It’s not every day we see a foreigner swimming in our farm’s water troughs.” 
I chuckled nervously. Are they gonna keep fucking reminding me about that? “I’m sorry for that.” I said, slightly annoyed. 
“Forgiven.” She reassured. 
The door to the kitchen creaked. The man who claims to be another person and yet still looks and sounds like Andre entered the room. It was still unbelievable how I have witnessed the death of my friend and yet, here he is. Alive and well.  
He sat down across me then took a bowl of stew. 
“Oh, you’re still here?” He scoffed at the sight of me.  
“Anthony.” Amara warned her son.  
“No, it’s fine.” I looked at him. “I’ll be out of your hair in no time. After I find out where I am and find my way back home.”  
Even if I don’t exactly feel like I have a home right now. 
“Don’t fret any longer, Oliver. We’ll go to the town hall later on for your inquiries. Surely, they can help you find your way back to where you came from. They’re nice people.” Amara suggested and gave out a warm smile. 
“The sooner the better.” I answered. 
“You don’t say.” Anthony sarcastically remarked. 
I clenched my fists under the table. A part of me wanted to wipe that look off his face with my bare fists but I restrained myself. Now’s not the fucking time to be bad-tempered. 
I woke up in some random farm with no recollection of how I fucking got here.