You awaken in a strange room with amnesia. The only lead to your past is a piece of paper in your pocket with a grocery list written in what appears to be your handwriting.

I sat bolt upright, like a jack in the box.<br>My eyes spun wildly around the room but I have no idea what I was looking for. I didn't even know why I was scared. I didn't even know *who I was.*<br>I frantically patted myself down for some sort of clue, ID, anything. My palms ran over my shirt pockets, which were empty, then my jeans, which were the same. My hands moved to pat my front pockets, and my eyes widened ever so slightly as my fingers passed over a small piece of paper in my right pocket.<br>I reached in and pulled out a piece of notebook paper that had been folded in half once, then again. I unfolded it and read the words which were scribbled in handwriting I didn't recognize:<br>Banana<br>Pear<br>Apple<br><br><br>I stared at the simple list for a moment, then flipped it over, hoping to find an address or phone number or something. It was blank.<br>What kind of person carries around a grocery list?<br>A *normal* person, a voice in my head responded.<br>I crumpled the list in my fist and stood up. *Where am I?*<br>I looked around the room. It was small, with cream colored walls and a single window that was covered by a white curtain. My eyes were drawn to that window, and I felt an overwhelming urge to look outside. I approached it at a run, ripping down the curtain as I went. It tore, and I felt a wave of guilt wash over me before I realized it was probably my fault the curtain was there in the first place. I reached the window and yanked it open.<br>A wave of cool night air wafted through the screen, carrying the sounds of crickets and a distant car driving by. I stepped closer to the window, pressing my face against the screen as I looked out at the street.<br>I was in a residential neighborhood. The houses were all slightly run down, but well kept. I saw a few cars parked in the street. A man walked down the road, glancing my way every so often.<br>My eyes stopped on the man, and my heart skipped a beat. *Who is that?*<br>I recognized him. I knew his face, but I had no idea of his name, and I couldn't tell if he was a friend or enemy. His presence was familiar and comforting, but the way he kept glancing up at me, his eyes narrowed slightly, sent a wave of fear through my body.<br>My eyes darted back and forth between the man and my own hands as they grasped the windowsill. My fingers were shaking, and they were also unfamiliar. I turned them over, studying them as if I had never seen them before. In a way, I hadn't.<br>My fingers were covered in small calluses, and my fingernails were bitten down almost to the quick. My fingertips were stained a deep yellow, and I could tell by the smell that I was a heavy smoker.<br>I dropped my hands and stepped back from the window. My eyes wandered the room again, this time taking in details I had initially overlooked. There was a large closet in the corner, with the door cracked slightly open. A dresser stood opposite the window. The door I had apparently come through to awaken was just behind me, and there was a small desk in the corner opposite the closet.<br>I ran to the desk, yanking out each drawer to examine their contents. The first drawer was filled with pens and pencils, receipts, random pieces of paper with partial phone numbers written on them. No full names or addresses were among the papers. I ran my fingers through them, hoping something would be familiar, but nothing stood out to me.<br>I slammed that drawer shut and yanked out the second one. This one was filled with a stack of notebooks, each filled with handwritten pages. I pulled out the nearest one and flipped through the pages.<br>The handwriting was the same as my grocery list, and I recognized it as my own. I stopped flipping through the pages at random, my eyes locking onto a passage. It was the start of some sort of entry:<br>Dear Diary,<br><br>Tom and I got in a fight again today. I can't believe him. He's such a dick.<br><br><br>I shoved the notebook back into the drawer, the name Tom echoing in my head. Tom. I recognized that name, and my teeth clenched at the mere mention of it.<br>I slammed the drawer shut and turned away from the desk. The closet was my next stop. I yanked open the door and stepped inside, flipping on the light. I was greeted by the sight of clothes, a few pairs of shoes, and a full length mirror on the back of the door.<br>I approached the mirror, and my eyes locked onto my own face. I studied myself. I was young, probably in my mid-twenties. My eyes were green, my hair was dark brown, cut short. My eyes were bloodshot, and a small cut ran across the bridge of my nose. I reached up to touch it, and my fingers came away covered in dried blood.<br>I dropped my hand, my eyes trailing downward. I wore a black t-shirt and jeans. A gold chain hung around my neck. I reached up to touch the pendant hanging from it, and my eyes widened as my fingers ran across a small silver cross.<br>*What the...?*<br>I stared at the cross in horror. What *was* this? Had I been a Christian? How did I know I wasn't still?<br><br>I dropped the cross and stepped backward, out of the closet. I had to get out of there. I ran across the room and threw open the door. A wave of dizziness washed over me, and I felt my stomach twist. I stumbled backward, realizing too late that the dizziness had been caused by a set of stairs. I fell down the stairs on my ass, sliding until I reached the landing. I sat up, rubbing my head, and stumbled down the rest of the stairs.<br>I reached the bottom and found myself in a long hallway with three doors. One, to my left, was open. A light spilled out of it, illuminating the hallway. One, to my right, was closed. One, straight ahead of me, was closed as well, and sported a keycard lock. I recognized the door as the front door, and my heart leapt at the sight of it.<br>I ran toward the front door, stumbling slightly as I went, and reached out to grab the handle and wrench the door open. I stumbled backward slightly as I realized the door was locked, then reached into my pocket to search for a key. Again, my palms ran over my empty pockets, and my teeth clenched in frustration.<br>"Hey," a voice said behind me.<br>I spun around, and my heart leapt as I saw the man from outside standing in the doorway of the door to my left. He held a keycard in his hand.<br><br>"Hey," I repeated.<br>The man's eyes narrowed as he stepped toward me. He didn't hand me the key.<br>"Want to talk?" he asked.<br><br>"No," I answered, holding out my hand. "I want that key."<br><br>"You sure you're ready to go out there?"<br>"Yeah, I'm positive."<br>The man sighed. "I'm not sure that's such a good idea," he repeated.<br><br>"Well, it isn't up to you," I snapped back. I was starting to lose my temper, and I could tell he was too. His nostrils flared, and the grip on his key tightened.<br>"Listen, I don't think you understand the-"<br>"I understand that I have amnesia, and I need to get out of here," I cut him off. "Now are you going to give me that key, or not?"<br>"I'm not going to give you the key," he said. "And if you try to take it from me, we're going to have a problem."<br><br>"Oh, I'm *shaking* in my boots," I said sarcastically.<br>The man's face twisted in anger, and he took another step closer to me. I held my ground, even as a voice in my head screamed at me to run.<br>"Why are you being such a bitch?" he spat.<br>"Me? *You're* the one holding me here. I want out of here, and I'm not leaving until I have that key."<br>The man raised a hand to hit me, and I ducked. His fist whizzed through the air above my head, and I reached up to punch him in the face. He stumbled backward, clutching at his eye. I took my chance and grabbed at the key, ripping it from his hand. The man roared and reached out to grab me, but I was already running. I reached the front door and slid the key through the reader attached to it. I yanked the door open and stumbled out into the night, gasping in the cool air.<br>I spun around, looking wildly back and forth. I was standing in a parking lot. It was small for an apartment building of its size, and it was surrounded by woods and a high stone wall that went almost out of sight.<br>I studied the wall for a moment, then spotted a small section near the gate where a few of the stones had been removed. I made a beeline for the wall, the man's shouts echoing behind me as I climbed through the hole in the wall.<br>I tumbled out onto the sidewalk on the other side, landing with a thud on the pavement. I sat up, panting, and ran my hands through my hair. I didn't know who I was, where I was, or what was going on, but I was going to figure it out.