It was like a picture show without sound. The sun peeked over her hair, adding a gold lining against the brown. Her head turned to the side as she lifted her chin, the shadow falling from her face. An appendage below my perspective, I would later come to realize that this was my arm, reached out and curled itself around her waist. She twirled inward, coming closer to my point of view, and, with time, the only thing left in my view were her eyes. At first, they squeezed shut as if an added feature to accompany a giggle. Soon they relaxed.

And that’s where it ended.

That’s where it all ended, my life, my memories, my everything. That was my only memory. This woman had no name. She had no history, no origin. She held no purpose. But I was unreservedly, unconditionally in love with her, and that I knew for certain.

Would you like to know where it began? I would, too. It doesn’t really begin anywhere, or anytime. It’s as if I was dropped into this character without any prior knowledge to my own being.

I will never refer to this person as ‘me’, for this is not me. This body. It’s not mine. This body’s past is not my past. Where this being’s story began, I will never know, but me? My story? One has to come to at some point in time.

My first encounter of perception transpired to me in a room. I knew I was in a room because I felt no breeze, and the floor under me was rigid and even. I kept my eyes shut, craving for some feeling of reminiscence, but none turned up.

Something unfamiliar was eating away at me, making me very arid and scratchy. Not but a minute went by and I realized this to be my skin. It seemed to be another creature, moving about me, creeping along my backside, crawling over my shoulders and finally swallowing me altogether.

I drew this body’s knees to my chest, still refusing to allow myself to witness the alien world that was trying to pierce through me. With this little movement came the discovery that, not only was this foreign casing along this body tormenting me from within, but I was not bearing any clothing. I was naked.

Eeriness crept over and chills began dripping from this skin. I suddenly became aware of how cold I actually was. I tried to back up and seek out a wall to huddle against, but even as I stood and began to run about, nothing came within my reach. I allowed myself to drop, again. I felt hopeless. Helpless. I couldn’t do anything…except…

I opened my eyes.

Looking around, I blinked a few times just to make sure. These eyes were open, and I was seeing, but everything was just as it was before, black. My features were undoubtedly visible, but that’s all there was to see. It was as if darkness clogged the air around me, yet at the same time, it pushed everything back farther and farther.

I closed my eyes.

The shadows that I witnessed in my mind appeared to be a bit more welcoming than the gloom that lie dead encircling me. Out of despair, the only thing left I could think of to do was sleep. At least with sleep came dreams, but when you have barely one memory, that’s all you see.

It was like a picture show without sound. The sun peeked over her hair, adding a gold lining against the brown. Her head turned to the side as she lifted her chin, the shadow falling from her face. An appendage below my perspective, I would later come to realize that this was my arm, reached out and curled itself around her waist. She twirled inward, coming closer to my point of view, and, with time, the only thing left in my view were her eyes. At first, they squeezed shut as if an added feature to accompany a giggle. Soon they relaxed.

And that’s where it ended.

I realized I was awake when blackness no longer occupied my sight. Instead, I awoke to see this body’s hand buried within carpeting. I shifted this body’s weight over, rolling onto it’s back. Bookshelves towered over me, lights were sprinkled along the ceiling, no window was in view and I was still unclothed.

Sitting upright, more of the room was revealed to me. I was lying between two bookshelves that were directly across a wall with possibly between eight to ten more. I peered along the wall I was up against and found it to be strikingly similar to the other. In the center of this large room were three chairs and two couches. A table, drowning in magazines, was positioned slightly crooked within the chairs. Behind each couch was a bookshelf, both were no taller than the couch they were pushed up against. One was white, the other, grey.

Walking beside the grey one, I ran my hand along this particular bookshelf, permitting my eyelids to drift shut. It was solid and smooth, everything you’d expect a bookshelf to be. The paint was chipped off in one area along the side, creating a more abrasive surface. Squatting, I inspected this tiny imperfection, but I soon lost interest in the defect, for I was now looking directly at a decent sized selection of books. A green, leather bound one was directly in front of me, titled My Life. I sat right there on the floor and slipped the book from it’s place.

A loose ribbon was tied about the book, keeping it’s cover closed. As I eased the ribbon off, the cover leisurely lifted.

I was no more enlightened on anything as I was before I glanced through the book than I was after. I only looked through the first pages but even still, those pages contained useless prattle that held no meaning to me. I considered the options that the book could have been about me, for it was all hand-written under many scattered dates, but I opted otherwise. All it told of was about an average man’s life. A man who worked, had a home, was going through schooling and was in love. I searched through the passages he had on the girl he loved, but found no specifications on her appearance, so I could extract no conclusions about it.

I brought myself to my feet, tucking the book under my arm. Surveying the room yet another time, I anticipated to stumble on some sort of way to observe the world that circulated beyond this room, but it still remained hidden from me.

I determined that, since I was here, I might as well browse through the assortment of books that kept me confined. As I ambled toward the far wall, something reflected itself into my eye. I stopped short and found this object to be a doorknob. Turning toward that general direction, I realized I not only was looking at a doorknob, but a rather large door.

How interesting, I thought. Why hadn’t I noticed this door earlier? Abruptly, the edges of my vision began to blur, and soon all was black again.

It was like a picture show without sound. The sun peeked over her hair, adding a gold lining against the brown. Her head turned to the side as she lifted her chin, the shadow falling from her face. An appendage below my perspective, I would later come to realize that this was my arm, reached out and curled itself around her waist. She twirled inward, coming closer to my point of view, and, with time, the only thing left in my view were her eyes. At first, they squeezed shut as if an added feature to accompany a giggle. Soon they relaxed.

And that’s where it ended.

Another ceiling now occupied my view, but it wasn’t as far up as when I was in the room with books. The floor was still carpeted, the walls were still decorated with lights and there were still no windows in sight. When I sat up this time, the room around me held furniture, pictures, books and looked more of a living area than anything else. The room I was in was relatively small compared to my last two destinations, but a doorway that led into a hall was residing in the corner closest to me. With time, I decided to explore this area I was in.

The first door I came across was directly to my left, right as I entered the hall. Opening this revealed to me, a bed and another set of doors. Opening those revealed to me a variety clothes.

Upon clothing myself and checking my appearance in the mirror, something green was gazing at me through the reflection. I pivoted back around. It was the journal. The ribbon was no longer entwined around it, and once I picked it up, the cover threw itself open. Two pictures fell to the floor.

The first was an older picture of a child. The second was a more recent one. It consisted of the woman. And me.

I flipped the cover back over, running my fingers along the indented title, My Life. I opened the book up again, this time the very last pages. The first passage I read was rather bizarre.

April 2

The experimentation begins tomorrow. They say I won’t remember anything, even after the experiment is over. They say…I’ll remember what I want to remember. Won’t I want to remember everything? At an attempt to jog my memory, during the experiment I’ll be taken to buildings and areas of my past, but how will I get there? How will they transport me to these different areas without revealing themselves? I’m so scared.

They say I’ll keep one memory, they’re hoping of her. That’s what they’re aiming for…why did I ever sign up for this?

It goes on to talk about the rest of his day (my day?). That’s the last entry in the book. I tucked it under my arm again and proceeded back into the room that I had woken up in.

In the center of the floor was something rather small, but it shined. It felt cold as it rolled around in my palm. It was a ring. I was, actually, fairly certain that it was a wedding band. I now held a journal, pictures, and a wedding band, all most likely key elements that told my story.

Before I could reflect any more on my discoveries, I noticed a glowing that replicated itself within the patterns of the ring. I lifted my eyes and found myself imprisoned within a fire.

It was like a picture show without sound. The sun peeked over her hair, adding a gold lining against the brown. Her head turned to the side as she lifted her chin, the shadow falling from her face. An appendage below my perspective, I would later come to realize that this was my arm, reached out and curled itself around her waist. She twirled inward, coming closer to my point of view, and, with time, the only thing left in my view were her eyes. At first, they squeezed shut as if an added feature to accompany a giggle. Soon they relaxed.

And that’s where it ended.

More darkness took over my eyesight, but this darkness had no likeness to the first darkness I encountered. Instead, faint shadows shaped themselves in the distance and a faint breeze found its way to me. This draft, however, soon became a perilous gale and I was shivering violently. I was outside.

Surrounded by endless trees, I attempted to see past the undergrowth. No success came with this and I concluded that I should probably look around to see what type of environment I was dealing with. In doing so, I discovered that I was shockingly sore.

As I brought myself to my feet, the sunrise greeted me, as well as a tap on my shoulder.

I quickly pivoted back around to be looking down at a short, wise-looking man. He pushed his glasses farther up his nose then looked up at me.

“Sorry to interrupt you, sir.” From what? “I’m sure you already know that you just took part in an experiment, correct?”

I gave a hesitant nod.

“Well, it’s nearly over, for us. For you, however, it’s over right now!” He walked past me, “See that path over there?” He pointed over to the right and possibly thirty feet over was a narrow footpath, “Just keep following that path and you’ll be home in no time at all.” He grinned widely, his smile taking up his whole face.

I nodded again.

“Oh, and you should probably take this, as well,” he handed me a jacket and began to stroll off in the opposite direction.

“Umm, sir?” I was surprised at how vulnerable my voice made me sound. I was actually surprised simply just at how my voice sounded. I had never heard it before, that is, I had no memory of it.

He turned back around and tilted his head to one side as if to say ‘what now?’.

“What was the experiment about?”

He gave a long, tiresome sigh, looked down, folded his hands together, then looked back up at me, “That love can overcome all obstacles.” And he was gone.

I began to make my way down the footpath, none of my questions answered, when another tap to the shoulder accompanied me. I turned around.

It was like a picture show without sound. The sun peeked over her hair, adding a gold lining against the brown. Her head turned to the side as she lifted her chin, the shadow falling from her face. An appendage below my perspective, I came to realize that this was my arm, reached out and curled itself around her waist. She twirled inward, coming closer to my point of view, and, with time, the only thing left in my view were her eyes. At first, they squeezed shut as if an added feature to accompany a giggle. Soon they relaxed.

And that’s where it began.