This World I Live In

Chapter 1. A Normal Fall In The Woods

(The Author here. This is one of the few times I will insert myself into the story to address all of you that this story has the following themes in it: death, blood, use of firearms, a (brief) mention of suicide, and is a relatively depressing story in some parts. Be warned with what you are reading. Now, continue at your own pace.

The first thing I feel is the sense of weightlessness. My eyes crack open to be greeted with the sight of the ground quickly approaching. I raise my hands to cover my face as tree branches whip at me as I fall. The branches tear into me. One jabs me in the side, while another hits me dead in the forehead. I let out a scream but it's as if I can't even hear myself. I shut my eyes and next thing I know... they've stopped.

Slowly, I open my eyes only to be greeted by the fact that I am still upside down. I crane my neck to look behind me and find the pack on my back is caught on a few branches. A glance upwards suggests that the branches above broke my fall while simultaneously trying to break me. My thoughts are still spinning and the blood is slowly going to my head. I need to get free.

I reach for a branch and tug on it. The next thing I know, I'm falling down the remaining branches and hit the ground with a resounding thud! The world continues to spin for a minute so I shut my eyes until it slows down. I let out a loud groan and for some reason, it echoes. Opening my eyes again, I discover why. There's a gas mask on my head. How did I not recognize that before?

"Bloody crush nosk tee fork mak key sont," I mutter intelligibly.

After a minute, I find the clasp for the mask and it comes off. Fresh air rushes in and I fill my lungs. With that out of the way, I look around at my surroundings.

Where the hell am I? Is my first thought before another, more concerning question hits me. Why was I falling from the sky? And then another quickly follows that one. Why can't I remember that?

A sudden rush of anxiety fills me as I rack my brain, trying to remember the past twenty-four hours. I come up blank. So instead, I try to remember further back... nothing. In a panic, I try to remember anything. Where I lived, who my parents are... What's my name?

For some reason, that question makes me stop dead. What is my name? I expect an inner voice to give it but instead it remains silent. No memories... no name... no clue where the hell am I. Almost as an afterthought, I wonder how I know what curse words are but not my own name.

I can feel myself on the verge of a panic attack. I take a deep breath and try to calm myself down. Okay so I have terrible amnesia-how the hell do I remember that?-and have no idea where I am. Totally nothing to worry about.

After another deep breath, I feel good enough to lift my head up. My back protests but I ignore it. A look up at the trees above show the jagged branches I fell on. It's a miracle I don't have any broken bones... I think. Moving both my legs shows that they are in fact not broken. That's good at least.

I roll my neck and feel the muscles groan. I do the same to my arms and legs. Despite not having anything broken, my body definitely feels pretty bruised. I glance down at the gas mask on the ground. It's black with two circular glass lenses that represent where my eyes would be. The left lens is cracked. A pointed tip in the middle is for my nose and below it, a large circular filter that is built into the gas mask.

I stare at the gas mask for a minute with a new stream of questions entering my mind. Instead of answering them, I push them down and take the backpack off.

It is certainly a lot more damaged. Multiple large tears and holes adorn the pack. Still, it's holding its contents well. Which are...

A few bottles of water, some food, a book that I will certainly read later, a compass, and a few pencils. Okay... I'm not hungry or thirsty so I shouldn't need the water anytime soon. Instead, I open the compass.

"Oh come on," I mutter.

The needle is spinning. Like literally spinning around like a wind gauge. For the love of God.

"This just keeps getting better."

Stuffing all the items back into the backpack, I stand up. Something weird weighs on the hip and my hand slides down to touch something cold and metal.

A gun.

I pull it out and examine it. The motion makes something jingle in my pocket.

Bullets. Just who the hell am I?

The gun is pretty small-not even the size of my hand-there's not even a hammer. It's a snub nose revolver with only five shots in it. A quick check shows that all five are loaded. I dive into my pockets and my hand brushes a bunch of loose ammo among something else...

I put out a glass lens and stare at it for a second. The glass is tinted and circular. Wait... I holster the pistol and grab the gas mask. Not knowing what else to do, I start putting pressure on the broken lens. After a second, the cracked lens pops out. I insert the one in my pocket and it fits perfectly. Okay then. With that figured out, I go to put the mask in the bag but pause.

I had it on for a reason. An important one probably. Maybe... just to be cautious. I hoist the mask over my face and tighten the straps. It fits on my head like a drum. The visibility isn't too bad and the glass it tinted to help with the sun. I take a quick breath and it doesn't fog up the lens. That's good at least.

Not knowing what else to do, I stand up and grab my backpack. I need to get out of these woods first and foremost. But which way? I look around. There's no signs of a trail or path and that compass is bloody useless. So, I just start in a random direction.