The first thing she knew was snow.
Fluffy white flakes were just beginning to form as the girl wandered down the abandoned lane. Her feet had lost all feeling hours ago, so she didn't mind when her feet sunk into a particularly large pile of snow.
A chill wind blew under her white gown, sending shivers up her body. She hugged her arms to her torso and took one more look at the object in her hand.
22 Crowfield lane. Faircult OH
She crumpled the paper back up and furrowed her eyebrows. Her head felt foggy and heavy, and like she was trying to see through a sheer curtain. But no matter how much she wracked her brain, the address still meant nothing to her.
She couldn't figure out when her memory started and when it stopped. All she knew was that she had no idea where she was, and that all she had was the address in her hand and the clothes on her back. If you could call half a nightgown clothes.
The road she travelled on didn't seem to have an ending and it was almost completely blocked in by tall, spooky trees that would have given her nightmares as a child.
The numbness had slowly travelled up past her feet to her legs, causing her to walk with a slight limp. She winced as the paved road faded to sharp gravel.
She spotted a large tree at the side of the road, so she decided it was time to give herself a break and figure out what to do next.
The trip over to the tree was painful and slow. Her feet were numb but the areas where she could still feel, felt prickly. She let out one final grunt as she slowly lowered herself to the ground, resting her back against the trunk.
The tension in her chest lifted slowly as she caught her breath. It felt like hours since she'd last sat down. In fact, she couldn't remember ever sitting down in her life.
Of course she knew she must have at some point. She could remember all the human basics, like how to speak and how to walk and how to fly a kite. But she couldn't remember anything personal. She knew that people had families, but she couldn't remember her parents' faces, let alone their names.
A hoot of an owl sounded, bringing her out of her thoughts. She pulled her knees up to her chest and buried her face in them. Hot tears began to trickle down her face.
She was confused and tired and hungry. And there seemed to be no answer to any of her problems.
Her eyelids fell heavy over her stinging eyes, and she struggled to keep them open.
Maybe it wouldn't hurt to shut them for a couple minutes.
Suddenly, a strong gust of wind hit her, causing her to fall sideways. Her cheek scraped against the rough gravel, waking her up instantly.
She pushed herself back up to her feet and wiped the blood off her cheek. The wind howled again, as if it was laughing at her misery. First the cold and snow and now even the wind was out to get her? as if she was going to put up with that. She had had enough of mother nature making fun of her pain.
"Shut the hell up!"
What felt like a shout came out as a quiet whisper. But it was only met with another gust of wind that threatened to topple her over again.
As it grew quieter, it sounded less like wind and more... mechanical?
The girl whipped her head around to find the source of the sound, but all she saw was trees.
Until one of the trees about a hundred feet down the road began to move.
She squinted her eyes to make out why the tree was moving. But as it got closer, she realised that it wasn't a tree at all. The sleek metallic body and roar of the engine was unmistakable.
It was a motorcycle.
YOU ARE READING
22 Crowfield lane
Science Fiction"So let me get this straight, you woke up in the middle of nowhere in a nightgown, you don't remember your own name or where you came from and the only thing you have to go off of is OUR address that you had on a crumpled up piece of paper?" She no...
