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Who Am I?

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Who Am I?


   His eyes felt heavy as he opened them, sleep wanting them to close again. He blinked a couple of times, trying to wake himself up to the best of his abilities. When he sat up his hand immediately went to his head, a pounding sensation causing him to bite harshly on his lip. Confused he looked around the room he was in. It was a classroom, or what remained of one. Desks were thrown around, a couple of them broken, chairs were turned upside down, none of them near a single desk, broken pieces of wood were scattered on the floor. The row of windows was dirtied, a few of them broken as they faced what seemed to be a forest. The blackboard had some writing on it, but it was so smudged it couldn't be made out. Could this really be called a classroom?


  He stood up, his balance faltering causing him to have to catch himself before he fell face first. His thoughts were in disarray, confusing him even more than his environment. He looked at his hands, making sure he was awake and this wasn't just some messed-up dream. But it wasn't, he was awake, and this, this was actually happening. He looked around the room some more before he locked onto a broken mirror that was standing against the back wall. Carefully, trying to avoid the scattered pieces of wood. Trying his best to make out his reflection through the dirty mirror he could tell he had navy blue with a purple tint hair, his clothes looked to be a school uniform, but it was ripped and there were spots of dark red, his white sneakers were scuffed up, looking like he ran through the woods. 


 A school uniform? Maybe he was a student? He frantically checked his pockets, hoping to find even a sliver of identification. He felt something in his breast pocket, it seemed to be something thin and made out of plastic. Maybe it was his I.D! With a smile filled with hope, he took it out and rubbed some of the dirt off it. That was when his smile turned to a frown. Everything that could be used to identify him was crossed out, no, more like scratched out. Maybe with a car key? Or perhaps a knife? He let out a sigh as he looked at the picture of himself from before he couldn't remember anything.


"Just who am I?" He asked as he stared at the card. He couldn't remember anything, nothing at all, and here he is in an abandoned classroom. "And why did I wake up here?" 


  He sat on the teacher's desk, needing a moment to gather his current thoughts. What could he do? If he has no memories there's no way he'll be able to find his way around. He was already confused enough just being in this school, he didn't know what laid beyond that door. The entire building could be abandoned, or maybe it's just this room. But why would they let just this room get this way? As he sat on that desk he looked around the room, even more, he was hoping that if he looked more he would find something. Anything! He just needed a sliver, it could be something as measly as his age, or the first letter of his last name, he just needed something. And he did, he got something alright, maybe not what he needed or wanted, but he got something.


  With a look of horror on his face, he got off the desk. He slowly made his way to the back of the room, no longer caring about the broken pieces of wood that made a loud sound as he stepped on it. He was focused on one thing, and that thing wasn't exactly pleasant. The closer he got the more he crouched down, until he was at a height where he could identify it. What he saw was a knife... a knife with the same dark red substance that was on his clothes. That's when it clicked, the substance was blood, dried blood to be exact.


"Holy fucking shit!" He yelled as he frantically crawled away from the object. "Did I... Did I kill someone?" He asked himself as he brought his hands to his face. Now the boy, the boy with no memory of who he is, what he loved, who he loved, was crying. 

"No... Nononono!" He said, the words colliding together as no break was made. "I couldn't have! There's no way! I wouldn't have done that!." He tried to tell himself, just as a deep coarse voice crept up behind him, as of it had hands that were firmly grasping his shoulders.

"But do you know that?" The voice said making the boy freeze. "You have no memory, you don't even know your name, where you came from, and you expect to believe that you wouldn't harm someone? Don't make me laugh." It cackled, it's invisible grasp tightening as it moved to the boy's neck.

"You could've enjoyed it you know, taking someone's life with your own hands. You could've laughed while doing it..." The more it talked the more the boy was questioning himself, it was right, he couldn't know, if he enjoyed it... or if he did it.

"But- But- There's no way- I couldn't! That's just-" He stuttered as his sobs became harsher, hiccups interrupting every word.

"Look at you crying over something so trivial. So what if you're a murderer? If you had fun, that's all that matters." That's when he noticed something in a broken mirror shard by his feet. There was a black blob of scribbles next to him, tight hands around his throat, with a wicked smile. When they locked eyes, he felt every single bad feeling enter his body at once.

"No! I'm not- I'm not a bad person!" He shouted as he harshly stood up, the pressure around his neck leaving as he did. "No matter what happens! I'm not a bad person!" There was conviction in his voice as his tears slowed, eyes now red and puffy. His voice was tired, strained from his crying but that didn't stop him. 

"I don't know who, or what you are! But you're not going to convince me I'm some messed up monster!" He said as he pointed in front of him, he didn't know if that... thing... was really in front of him, but that didn't matter right now.

"Oh? This is an interesting turn of events." The voice laughed, making the boy that stood there perplexed, his eyebrows knitting in confusion. "Such a strong conviction, let's see if it lasts." It said and just as it finished that sentence, for a split second the boy saw it's smile right in front of him.


  Startled by the sudden image he backed into the window behind him. However, this was one of the broken ones, which made his torso lean over the window's trim. His heart was beating as he strongly gripped the window frames beside him. He gulped as he turned his head slightly to see what was underneath him, and that's when he found out he was on the third or fourth floor. Quickly, or as quickly as he could, with a heave he pulled himself up, making him stumble a bit as he placed his hand where his heart was. He was breathing heavily, both from adrenaline and the fact he could've just died there. 


  Now was the time to think about what he would do. If he took in all the facts, he very well could be an assaulter, or at the very worst a killer. Just the mere thought of it made his stomach turn. Maybe he should look around the school, see if it's abandoned. It looks like it's around late afternoon, if this place isn't abandoned only people in a club should still be here. Bracing himself he stood in front of the door, taking a deep breath he slid the door open. 


Now was the start to finding his memories.

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