Who is Johanna?

Who am I? It's not a question someone should ask themselves. There are deep black crevices in my memory, shards that I can't seem to grasp. Ghosts that linger within every nook and cranny of my memories. Nightmares that cling to a child.

It was like one day I woke up, and realized, I'm not who I believed I am. I'm not the Johanna I once knew. Things are different now that I've woken up. No one is who they say they are. Not me. Not you. Not the person you love the most. So, the question still stands, who am I? And who are you?