Be Brave

Awake

Am I dreaming right now? Am I some tangible form of thought that only exists to question its own being? Or am I a complete idiot that wants to find any excuse to not focus on my massive headache?

Probably the latter. Most definitely the latter.

I take a deep breath and open my eyes.

Ouch.

The room I'm in is dim, with no furniture but a small table and the lamp that illuminates the room. But even with so little light, my head is pounding and I find myself gasping.

What's going on?

I push myself off the ground using the table to steady myself. I have to turn away from the light, but this gives me a good look at the room I'm in. The floor and walls are concrete and a large drain resides in the middle of the floor. A suspicious amount of oddly colored stains surround the drain and I can only imagine what those fluids might have been. A door is to my left, but there is no handle on the inside and it's not the kind you can push open. I look down at myself.

Crap. I'm naked.

I should have noticed this earlier, but all of my nerves are screaming and are in over drive to compute what is happening. 90% pain, 5% confusion, and 5% boredom.

What? Why am I bored?

I don't know why, but nothing about this situation is particularly surprising to me.

What kind of messed up life do I have?

Oh that's right. I have no freaking clue. I slide down the wall, trying my best to cover up what I wouldn't want my grandfather to see.

Do I have a grandfather?

I can't remember anything about my life. I know what life could be like, generally. I know about holidays and family members and cultures and food. But I don't know what I celebrate or where I'm from or what I like. I'm pondering this when my headache gets so severe that I pass out from pain.

What have I gotten myself into?