Foreigners Of My Childhood

.:Chapter 1:.

.:Your POV:.

I awoke to the cold salt water washing up against my feet. I immediately stood up, afraid if it was some type of alarm of attack of some kind. But once I was aware of my surroundings, I relaxed a bit and my shoulders felt a little less tense. Just a little. I still had no idea where I was, when I had arrived, or who I was with, but if I had to know, I hope any following companions will be loyal to me (as if). But then a strange feeling overcame me, overruling my negative thoughts about this island. I felt... safe. I felt secure. I felt as if this was my home. Yet I can't confirm that this is my home. Strange.

My thoughts were soon interrupted when I heard the sound of something growling. Or grumbling. It sounded as if I were coming from below me! I looked down, felt my stomach, and realized that another feeling was overcoming me. Hunger. I was hungry. I was hungry and had no clue of where any source of food was located, but I was determined to find some.

I then began to walk around the strange, yet large island for the first time and took in my surroundings for a while while looking for a source of food. I then decided that it would be a smart idea to get to somewhere high, elevated. I then looked around, spotted a pretty tall hill, and began to climb it. Considering the fact that I had combat boots on, I succeeded in climbing up easily to the very top. Once I reached the top, I was astounded by the scenery surrounding me. Beautiful plants, tall trees, and what seemed to be a small town right in the middle of the landmass. Though, I felt like I shouldn't be heading in the direction of the small town. In fact, I felt as if I was a spy of some sort, watching over these people, and somehow keeping peace throughout the land.

I concluded that it was best for me just to turn around and head back from where I "originated" from and start off fresh. I then looked down, and for the very first time I took notice of what I was wearing. A black cut-off shirt (crop-top) with camouflage jeans as well as the combat boots I mentioned earlier. Then it hit me.

Where did I come from?

Do I even have parents? A family?

I tried to forget these thoughts by counting the amount of seagulls I see, but like any other normal human being, I couldn't. I couldn't stop thinking, trying to figure of my past life. Unless my mother gave birth to a 19 year old and made a pit stop to this tiny island to get rid of her daughter. Oh I wish it was the truth. But deep down inside, I knew it wasn't the truth. I knew that I probably didn't have a mother, and I probably just came out of the sky, lying down in a white cloth hanging from a crane (the bird smartass). But one thing, that stupid little thought that always gets brought up at the worst times was brought up.

Who am I?