Forgotten

...Who?

When they came after me they expected me to run. I didn't respond to them until they shoved me to the ground and dragged me into this place of death. I cannot add to the situation so I have done nothing but observe. The air is thick, even in the room I have been thrown, there is still a tint of sickness from outside this building of death. A gruff man whips the door open. He stares down at me. I don't even uncross my legs, I observe.

"Get up!" He scoffs, I slowly stand. I turn, facing him. He looks funny in his city outfit. An official jumpsuit with various weapons seemingly connected to his waist. They all look the same these official people do. At first glance I thought all the ones who brought me here actually were one in the same. But if you watch, there are differences. This one's broader than the others with a flat face and square chin. He squints a little too.

"You're new arrangements have been made" He speaks briskly and drops some folded material near me. I catch it as it falls. It's rough, most likely clothing. Near the same as what I wear, but with its differences. A brighter blue than the deep navy I wear. Thicker material, stronger too.

This official man dosn't like how long I'm taking to inspect the new cloth. Obviously impatient, as were the others.

"Follow me and don't lag behind."

As I step out into a new corridor of doom the light in the windowless cement room flickers, and dies.

...

They all expect me to do something, say something. They must not realize I remember nothing. Not of the face I wear or the light of last morning. I only observe, through a stranger's eyes. They must be mine though, I am the stranger. The stranger and I walked through many places to get here. Then the official ones took us and now we walk to somewhere new. As this official man leads us to a new door he puts on an air mask, then a helmet over that. He seals the visor and helmet then shoves the left door open. He holds it while he waits for me to file through. Once outside the air is so thick wih death it makes me cough. The thick red smog attacks and burns the eyes. The difference from the building to out here is strong.

We head down streets where the buildings streach skyward and there seems no end to the smog or the grease caked streets. At last we come to the massive place. The place might be big, but the smokestacks streach even higher. Belting out a viriety of colors into the red sky, only to be snatched up by the wind overhead. We enter through a small door that's on the bigger ones that travel halfway up the building. Once inside it's darker, but the air is much cleaner.

A tall lean man walks out of the gloom and approaches the official man with me. He still wears the air mask, but without the helmet. The other man wears an air mask, but more compact. They converse in a corner while I stand where they left me. I stand in the center of some dark foyer with two darkly light tunnels stretching in an unseen direction. I take the snatches of the conversation I can hear from my left side and devote the rest of myself to observing. The only peices I obtain from the conversation are meaningless to me, conditions, assignment, relocation, but, place, streets, meal, started, orange, lots. All of the things I hear have some merit, but none I can clearly see. I observe, so I resort to ignoring the two masked people. I don't get far into taking in the dark room before I am jolted and the second man leads the official man down the second tunnel. The official man barks at me again. "Keep up!" And I scurry into the right tunnel to catch up to the two darkening figures.