The Art Of Subconscious Illusion

I woke up
Where am I?
Looks like a bedroom of sorts
Metal door, glass windows
And a 32inch on the wall
My head hurts
Don’t panic!
I must’ve accounted for this
Somewhere
I need to be calm
I need to concentrate

I hear a voice
Seems like a middle aged woman
Wait! Now there’s another
I think there’s a kid in here
What do I do?
Okay now! Stay calm
The voices are closing in
“Tito, wake up!!”
What did she just say?
Oh! So my name’s tito
And who are you, may I ask?
And where’s that kid?
I should get out of the bed
There’s the kid
She’s a girl
And she calls her mother
Okay!! I get it
But who am I, what am I to you people?
Don’t panic, observe.
She asks me to get a shower
And go out to fetch my father
Well, the characters
Seem to pop up out of nowhere.

Now I have a father too
Great!
The fog’s clearing now
That middle aged woman
She must be my mother then
Going by the zeal with which
She orders me to do the things

My God!!
What has happened to me?
Why can’t I remember anything?
It’s like I have been born just now
But how come I can do all the chores
Why do they come so naturally to me?
These are the most basic things I guess
Taught and trained to the subconscious
But I’m afraid
If I sleep I may be re set
I need to figure out something
The art of subconscious illusion