Jonas woke up abruptly. He reached sleepily beside him, but the bed was empty. Strange, he thought, Lisa never got up before him. A glance at the clock showed seven in the morning. Surely she was making breakfast for the kids. He dragged himself to the kitchen, but no one was there. The apartment was quiet, so quiet it made him shiver. No laughter, no murmuring—just him.
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He called out for Lisa and the kids, but there was no answer. His heart began to race as he hurried through the rooms. The children's room was empty—no toys on the floor, no pajamas on the chair. As if no one had ever been there.
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Panicking, he grabbed the phone and dialed Lisa's number, but an automated voice told him the number was not in service. He tried again, with the same result. He stared at the screen, unable to comprehend what was happening.
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Jonas left the house and ran to his neighbors. "Have you seen Lisa and the kids?" he asked breathlessly. Mr. Schmidt next door looked at him in confusion. "Lisa? Kids? What are you talking about, Jonas? You've always lived alone."
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"No, that's not true," Jonas objected. "We just had a barbecue together last week, you were there!"
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Mr. Schmidt shook his head. "You must be mistaken. I've known you for years, you've always been alone."
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Jonas couldn't believe it. He ran through town, searching for his friends, colleagues—everyone told him the same story. No one knew of Lisa, no one remembered his kids. His life, as he knew it, seemed to have vanished into thin air.
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He spent the day investigating. He went to the police, but they only gave him sympathetic looks. There were no records of his family, no birth certificates for the children, no marriage certificate. It was as if they had never existed.
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Despairing, he returned to the empty apartment that evening. He sat down on the couch and buried his face in his hands. "What is going on?" he whispered. Tears stung his eyes as his mind spiraled in confusion and pain. Finally, exhausted and internally torn, he fell into a restless sleep.
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When Jonas woke up the next morning, he heard a familiar sound. Children's laughter. He snapped his eyes open and saw Lisa next to him, sleeping peacefully. In the hallway, his kids were playing and giggling.
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He jumped out of bed and rushed to the children's room. There they were, just like always. Lisa came up behind him and placed a hand on his shoulder. "Everything okay, honey? You look like you had a nightmare."
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Jonas stared at her for a moment before hugging her tightly. "Yeah," he finally said quietly, "a terrible nightmare."
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Lisa smiled at him. "It's all good; we're here."
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Jonas nodded, but a sense of unease stirred inside him. Whatever had happened yesterday, it felt frighteningly real. But how could that be? He decided to spend the day with his family and forget this fright. As he watched the children play and held Lisa’s hand, he felt whole again.
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Yet deep inside, the question remained: What had really happened? Was it just a dream, a cruel joke played by his own mind? Or had he caught a glimpse of another reality, one where his family had never existed? He didn’t know. And maybe, he thought, it was better that way.
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