AMNESIA

Your eyes open slowly.

Blink.

Blink.

You come to your senses- cozily blanketed in a soft brown quilt adorned with fancily stitched yellow patterns. Sitting up on the firm mattress, you stretch a little and look around with a yawn. You are all alone in a small room. Brown wooden walls with golden trim are decorated by large neatly hung paintings of natural landscapes in elaborate frames. A lit fireplace made of black stone straight ahead, a wide beige book shelf to your right, a small gray table, and a blue area rug right by the rustic silver framed bed on which you are seated. Natural sunlight pours in from three glass windows in the ceiling. Recognizing absolutely nothing around, you wipe your eyes, trying to remember why you are here-- and where exactly here is.

Nothing.

You search your brain harder and harder, but can’t seem to remember a thing. You can’t even remember who you are. Looking at your hands, your breathing increases. You rise to your feet in confusion and begin to explore the room more deeply. There is a tall golden oval mirror standing beside the bookshelf. Slowly walking over to it, a familiar figure comes into view. Your own self. The only person you seem to have even the slightest memory of. You search your own eyes, thinking--

Who am I?

What happened to me?

When did this happen?

Where am I?

Why can’t I remember anything?

How did I get here?

Suddenly, you hear a thump sound behind you. Turning abruptly, your eyes meet the empty bed. Nothing new in sight. An even stronger feeling of fear falls over you. Are you really alone? “Hello?” you call with a weak voice, as if you haven’t spoken for years, “Is anyone there?” Receiving no response, your breathing intensifies at an alarming rate. You look around the room again, searching for a place someone could possibly hide. In doing so, you notice that there aren’t any windows or doors along the walls. Are you trapped? The panic sets in. With a deep breath, you lunge for the poker by the fireplace. Shakily clutching it as a safeguard, you inch towards the bed, and prod the quilt onto the floor, revealing a small golden pocket watch. Staring at it, you don’t know why, but something about it puts you in a trance. It’s smooth elegant beauty, sophisticated design, and antique nature can’t seem to shake your gaze. You uncontrollably grasp the trinket. Its weight in your hand is somehow calming. After a moment, you shove the watch into your pocket, snapping out of the spell.

You must escape.