As I awoke in the cold winter night, I saw nothing but winding alleyways and freezing snow on my clothes. My winter cap covered my hair. I stared at my gloves studying the brown and red colours. I saw blood. I scoured through my brain for anything I could remember.
But nothing would come through.
I looked around the area in the hope of working out what was missing. I managed nothing. Why did I have blood on my arms? What did I do?
I hoped this was normal. Maybe it’s not? How would I know?
I looked through my head for my name; maybe that will answer my burning questions. Who am I? Burning thoughts running through my head.
Think, what is my name who am I exactly? My head was aching now; I felt it throbbing. I rubbed the back of my skull and found the source of the blood.
I gulped back the pain. What hit me? And where? I sat against a wall but I felt stupid. I don’t know who I am anymore.
That’s not a good thing. I’m sure of it. Perhaps not? A simple orange backpack with red stripes was on the ground next to me. I suppose that was mine.A scarf was keeping my neck warm..
I liked the colors of my winter jacket. It was white and silver and suited my cold surroundings of white snow and dark grey buildings.
The blood on the back of my head had made a mess of my beanie.
In a few short minutes, I passed out.