[ WP ] All individuals receive the memories and knowledge of one of their randomly selected ancestors on their 21st birthday . Yesterday was your 21st birthday .

There's a game online called Geo-Guessr. You get dropped somewhere in the Google-Map-world and have to find clues to figure out where you are. I was warned my memory would be like that when I woke up this morning and, sure enough, it is. 
 
 I'm still in my bed. Memories are flooding my brain and I ca n't get them sorted. There are flashes of women, men, and cities I've never seen. A dilapidated old cotton mansion that looks like it's either in Georgia or a movie about the Deep South. The inside of a prison. A VERY large prison guard. Handcuffs, fuzzy and cold steel, both. Woodstock, maybe? 
 
 *This sucks. * Taking a deep breath, I sit up and look around my room. It's still mine, I still recognize everything. At least my life is n't wiped out by this flood of mostly useless information. But, I'm curious. What else will I know? And, frankly, who the hell do these memories belong to? Everyone knows it's coming, so everyone does their level best to find out everything they can about their entire lineage. It only makes sense to be as ready as you can be. I thought I was ready for this, but *man*, it's tough to have all these images and sounds flashing through my mind. 
 
 I get dressed and head downstairs. Now 21, still in university ( I was doing a BSc in Engineering - wonder if I'll still want to do that? ), still living at home. My mom has breakfast ready and her and Dad are sitting at the table, along with my two younger sisters. Everyone is watching me. Not sure what they expect, exactly, but maybe I look different, too? 
 
 I pass a mirror on the stairs and give myself a quick glance - nope, still me. 
 
 `` So, honey?'' My mom asks, without really asking anything. Y'know - how moms do? 
 
 `` Well,'' I start in, `` It's *really* weird. I have no idea who any of these people in my head are.'' 
 
 `` Yeah,'' says Dad. `` It takes a while to get it sorted. I'ts far easier once you know who the stuff in your head belongs to.'' 
 
 `` I guess that's the thing, right? Who is in my head with me?'' *Man, this is weird. * 
 
 I begin to relate some of the memories, leaving the explicit ones alone. Everyone knows that's part of the deal, but no one talks about it. For all you know you'd be staring at your great-grandfather's dick. There is no gender requirement - I could have woken up with my grandma's ability to sew and can vegetables or a distant cousin's ability to be a whore and make money off it. At this point, at least I'm fairly convinced that my memories are that of a man in my lineage somewhere. 
 
 `` I was sort of hoping for sword fighting or metallurgy or something cool. All I see so far is prisons, some old house that looks to be an Old South mansion, random cities, and not much in the way of abilities. It all looks to be not-that-long-ago type memories. Some people get Dukes and Kings in their heads. I get someone from 20 years ago.'' 
 
 My mom slowly turns to look at me with a look that is part dread and part curiousity. `` Tell me about the house.'' 
 
 I explain it to her - old, wrap-around porch, surrounded by fields on all sides, broken down pick up in the front yard. 
 
 `` Can you see anyone there?'' she asks, more dread than curiousity this time. 
 
 `` Why are you being weird, Mom? Do you know who this is in my head?'' 
 
 My mom asks my sisters to leave. Dad gets up to go and she snaps, `` Sit down!'' 
 
 He plops down, as disinterested appearing as one could possibly be, given how my mom is acting. Mom repeats her questions. `` Can you see anyone?'' 
 
 I close my eyes and think. Trying to remember something you've never seen before is hard work. 
 
 `` Yeah, there is someone there. Obviously I have no idea who she is.'' 
 
 `` Describe her.'' 
 
 `` Mom. this is weird. What's the deal?'' 
 
 `` Describe. Her. To. Me.'' *Okay, she's serious. * 
 
 `` Skinny, gaunt even. Smiling, but missing teeth. Brown eyes. Would have been pretty if she had eaten more.'' As I'm describing her to my mom, I realize that she is my mother. Not my mom, but the person inside my head's mother. `` Mom, it's my... mom. Not you, but...'' 
 
 `` I know.'' She cuts me off and turns to my dad. `` Fuck.'' My mom NEVER swears. 
 
 `` What in the world mom? What is going on? Who is in my head?'' 
 
 My dad has been silent the entire time. His face reddens and he sinks into his chair. I start to shake. My hands tremble, my heart races, my chest is tight. 
 
 `` WHO IS THIS?!'' I yell. 
 
 My mom turns to look at me, tears welling in her huge blue eyes. `` Your memories are from your father.'' 
 
 I turn to look at my dad. `` What is she talking about - that's not your mom in my head, and I sure as hell hope I do n't have memories of you and mom doing... stuff running through my head!'' 
 
 My dad looks like he wants to die. My memory flashes and I see my mom, not the person in my head's mother, but my mom. She's walking down her high school hallway. She turns and looks at me in my memory, and smiles. 
 
 `` Mom? I just had a memory of you in high school flash into my head. You *liked* this guy?'' Incredulous is putting it mildly. 
 
 `` Son, please sit back down.'' It is my dad's voice. It is eerily calm. I had n't even realized I was standing. 
 
 My mom is crying, my dad is as steady as I've ever seen him, and I am absolutely freaking out. My sisters, who were supposed to leave, are sitting at the top of the stairs, eyes wide and totally silent. I sit back down and wait. 
 
 One minute. 
 
 Two minutes. 
 
 `` Who. Am. I?'' 
 
 `` You see, son,'' It's my dad's voice, but it conflicts with the voice I am hearing attached to the memories in my head. It does n't feel like my dad's voice at all. `` There is no way to know whose memories you would get. It could have been anyone. There was only one we hoped it would n't be. It is rare to get the memories and knowledge of someone so close in age, but it does happen.'' He paused, and I hear my mom choke on a sob. 
 
 `` I'm sorry, honey. I'm so sorry.'' She is openly weeping now and my dad looks like he wants to crawl in a hole. 
 
 I am now 21. I thought I knew everything about everything. Arrogant as only a young adult can be. I now realize that the life I thought I had was a lie. *How could they not tell me the man I called Dad for years wasn't* actually *my dad? * 
 
 `` I would ask you to tell me about him... but I already know more than you, do n't I?'' Secrets are hard to keep in a world where things like memories being planted in your skull happen. 
 
 My mom nods and collapses into a chair, her body wracked with sobs. My dad puts his hand on my shoulder. 
 
 `` We still love you. *I* still love you, son.'' 
 
 *Son*.
