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Milo Heartworth

He felt a breeze touch his face and his hands lifted to wipe the sleep from his eyes. Sitting up, he crossed his legs underneath him and yawned, stretching his arms outwards. There was a tiny burst of pain as he hit his hand against the wall. He sucked in air through his teeth and inspected the back of his hand. His knuckles were red and tender. When he touched them with his other hand it stung and he instinctively flinched. He couldn't remember how it had happened.

When he finally looked up and deeper into the room, he realized that he didn't know where he was. This room was completely alien to him. Even scarier, he couldn't remember what room he should be in. The ceiling was bright, white panels spread throughout filling the room with light. He found no windows - where had the breeze come from? For that matter, there was no door. The walls, the floor, the ceiling, it all had a very modern sleek look - industrial. The implications whirled inside his brain. Was he kidnapped? Drugged? Had he been at a party? No matter how hard he tried to recall the previous nights, the more disconcerting his current predicament became. The real worry, was when he tried to think farther back, only to receive a big nothingness. A dark void where his memories should be. There was nothing there, not even glimpses. Not even a name. He could feel the panic inside him build. It was at war with something, an emotion he couldn't really get a grip on.

As his eyes darted around the room, they landed on a coffee table at the center in front of a small modern love-seat. On the coffee table, he could see various items. A photograph caught his attention. There were two boys in it. Detangling himself from the covers, he approached the coffee table with caution and inspected the photograph. He turned it around to see if there were any dedications, but there was nothing. Flipping it back over, he noticed that the two boys in the photograph were twins, but he didn't recognize who they were. Had he known them? A birthday card, warn and dirty, had been laying beside the photograph and he now inspected it.

"Forgive me, Mom." His heart gave a thump at hearing his own voice. It was like hearing it for the first time, even though he logically knew that he wasn't just born a few seconds ago and that he must have heard his own voice millions of times before. It was odd nevertheless.

The card had balloons and a birthday cake on it. On the cake, was the picture of a clown. It might be grinning, but the eyes weren't quite right. He picked up the glasses that were laying on the table and put them on to inspect the clown in the picture farther. He jumped slightly when the world distorted and the clown seemed to have jump off the card and into his face. He took them off again and of course the clown was where it had always been. He dropped it onto the table. He felt his fist clench and he wanted to pound the card into the table, to rip it to shreds. Only he didn't know why.

After trying the glasses for a second time, he decided he didn't need them. They were definitely not his. He could actually see very well and seemed to have very good vision. This good vision allowed him to find the bear. It was on the floor, placed in front of a cracked mirror. The mirror itself had a sheet of paper written on it with he name of a university.

How can I know that it's the name of a university and what university it is, if I can't remember my own name, he thought. He picked up the bear and read the name tag, "Milo Heartworth. Something seemed to click in his brain, like the snapping of a button. That was his name. There was no doubt about it. As soon as he had read it, the name had become a part of him.

Still holding the bear, he peered at the letter. It was an acceptance letter and now that he knew his name, he realized that this letter was addressed to him. He had been accepted to a university in France. The Ecole Normale Supérieure, Paris. The words sounded French in his head and he spoke them out loud. It was perfect, with no American accent or inflection. So he knew french. Très Bien. Not that it did him any good in this door-less room. He decided to put the letter away in his sleeping-shorts pocket. The shorts were made of cotton and were likely for working out, but he didn't remember ever buying them, though by now he deduced that he did work out, based on how he felt and the feeling of his muscles and stomach.

When he looked in the mirror it was like slamming into a moving truck. His face - he was one of the boys in the photograph. His hands felt his cheeks and his nose and he waved his hand around to make sure it was him in the mirror. He went back to the photograph and sure enough, he looked like them. He was in the picture, even if he couldn't tell which one of the two he was. He looked back at his face through the cracked mirror. He had a twin brother. His fist clenched and his knuckles stung again slightly. He brought it up to his face and then looked at the mirror. He had been the one to crack the mirror. He didn't know why or when, but he knew he had done. Perhaps it was even recent, if the pain was anything to go on.

He jumped back and prepared for a fight when he heard gears turning and air releasing as a panel in the wall opposite him opened to reveal a large hallway. Voices echoed through the halls. He could see a large chamber at the very end of the hall. A few people passed in front of his room, going horizontally through the hallways that was perpendicular to the one he could see. Milo walked out slowly, turning to look around. Everyone looked panic and shocked. He made his way to the center and was about to ask someone what was going on when he saw them looking up in awe. He looked up too, and couldn't understand what he saw. Through the enormous domed window, there was space. In that vast space, was a planet. He wasn't sure if it was Earth or not, but it was definitely a planet.

Cricket Westley

A sharp gasp sliced the still air like a knife. Her sea blue eyes had opened with a start, blinking and looking up at a stark white ceiling. Her lips were parted in the aftermath of her intake of breath, and she could feel her heart rapidly racing from inside her. Closing her lips and swallowing, licking her dry lips and realizing she must have slept with her mouth open, she swallowed again to wet her throat. Strands of brown hair were clouding her vision, and she brushed them aside before sitting up. As she did, she looked down at herself. She appeared to be wearing black yoga pants, her legs twisted up in white covers, and her shirt was an off the shoulder, slouchy tan sweatshirt. She looked at her hands, turning them over and over. These were her hands? She frowned heavily, quickly looking up at her surroundings. Wait… where was she? Who was she?

Tossing the covers aside like a horse kicking sand before a gallop, she leapt from her bed and raced to the mirror in the room, seemingly connected to the dresser. She tried peering at herself through the words, seeing tanned, freckled skin, dark hair with a few high lights, blue grey eyes, and thin lips pulled across her white teeth. Frowning, she didn’t recognize herself at all. She took a step back, eyes narrowed, and read the words scrawled on the mirror in what appeared to be lipstick. I refuse to give up!!! it said. She blinked a few times, slowing coming to terms with the fact that she must be familiar with all this, but a head injury perhaps? Amnesia? Hmm…

She began exploring her room, finding the teddy with her name, Cricket Westley, and a picture of a baby on her dresser. She lifted her shirt to see fresh stretchmarks, pink and shaped like lightning crisscrossing her stomach and confirming to her that this was her child. She couldn’t even remember his name… A camera next to it, which she began snapping with, and a postcard tucked under the teddy. The sunsets I’ve seen since being here can’t compare to your beauty. I miss you. Xoxo She felt a stirring in her chest. A longing. But she had no idea who or what for. Sighing, she set the camera and postcard down, rubbing her temples and beginning to pull out all the dresser drawers, search under the mattress, trying to figure out anything else. She was interrupted by a sound that sounded like blasting air, turning and seeing her door open. She’d been so focused on the contents of her room she hadn’t even bothered with the door. But now she took a step towards it, barefoot and feeling the chill of the hallway floor as she looked around at others leaving their rooms. They all looked as equally confused as she did, so she frowned and just continued to look about, corralled into a central room where she crossed her arms defensively, still thinking and trying to understand. Trying to remember.

Stíofán ó Connail

Stíofán woke up, gently, as if someone had just woken him from a deep coma. His right arm moved instinctively to the side of his bed, yet fell down as there was nothing there. Stíofán didn't know why. In fact, why he thought, he didn't know anything. This room, he thought, wasn't familiar. Perhaps it's just a case of jamais vu. Or perhaps something more malicious. He got out of the bed, his movement breaking the silence. He looked round, with blurry vision, 'perhaps my arm was reaching out for some glasses,' he wondered. Stíofán looked at the Irish flag on the wall, with messages written all across it. He looked at himself, pale skin, ginger body hair. He too must be Irish. He examined himself more closely. He had low body fat, and some developwd musvles, particularly his arms, legs, and back. At least, that's what he could work out from feeling around his body, considering the current situation with his vision. Stíofán also saw what looked to be a pocket watch, he grabbed it, thinking that it may come in handy later. Suddenly, a door in the wall opened up, and Stíofán saw what looked like a congregation of people moving through a corridor. He followed, wondering what may be in tow.

Tessa Green

The first thought to pass through her mind was, "I'm late." Her eyes sprung open. The ceiling above her was steel, cold. She breathed in softly through her nose not daring to move at first as she tried to think about how she got where she was. Fear slid its way through her limbs and her mind worked into overdrive. Where am I? The girl dug back trying to remember the last thing she had done.

Nothing.

There was absolutely nothing. She could not place where she was, where she had been. Her heart beat a bit faster. She was obviously laying on a bed, it was soft, and covered in warm blankets. She lay on top of the blankets, fully dressed. She wore a thin wind breaker over a thicker cable knit sweater. She wore jeans, and a pair of black tennis, the no slip kind baristas use. Unsure of how she knew that the girl sat up. Dark hair swung into view. Most of her hair was tucked back and under a cap that matched her sweater. Other than that she had no adornments. No jewelry, though that felt weird, as if she should be wearing a necklace.

The girl glanced around the room. It was bare, minus the bed she had been sitting on, and a simple coffee table next to a large overstuffed chair. On the coffee table was a school composition book with a blue Bic pen on top of it. At the foot of the bed was a stuffed bear. It was threadbare, and ancient. Probably one of the first bears every made. There was a red ribbon tied around its neck. The ribbon was brand new. Sewed into the ribbon was a name: Tessa Green. She took a deep breath, catching the dusty smell of the bear. I'm Tessa Green.

Tessa, because there was no doubt in her mind that that was her name, stood up. Next the bear had been a small hard case. She unzipped it curious as to what it held. She almost dropped it when she saw the needle, and the vial. Her heart pounded with fear, more than she had when she had realized how lost she was. This vial was important. Very important. Tessa wasn't sure how so, but she knew that it being here was...off. Not that this whole situation wasn't off. Actually very much so off. Everything was wrong.

Tessa picked the bear back up, after closing the case and replacing it at the foot of the bed. Her fingers ran along the seam on the back, it had recently been re-sewn. Unlike the rest of the thread on the bear it was still white instead of yellow. Tessa pulled at the string slightly, curious, too curious. Tessa was a curious person - Curiosity killed the cat. The thought made her pause, but the thread was already mostly undone. She could see something off white in the stuffing. Tessa pulled at the stuffing a bit until the odd white thing was more visible. She dropped the bear as she realized what the item was. Her heart was in her throat. "Oh my God that's a rib." She choked on the words, as vomit tried to escape.

"Let me out of here!" Tessa yelled at the room. She was on her feet and pressing against the walls. Panic fully set into her now. Her eyes burned with tears threatening to fall, but not actually falling. It took her a while to calm down. She sat down in the chair, as far away from the bear as she could get. Her throat still burned from the bile. Tessa wrapped the wind breaker around her. As she did she realized that there was something in the pocket. Out of her left jacket pocket Tessa found a cloth bag with a complete set of dice. She wasn't sure how she knew it was a complete set. The writing on the dice, other than the numbers, was gibberish. She replaced the dice back into the bag. She knew what each of the dice was called, without counting the sides. There was the d20, the two d10s that were used for percentage checks, a d4, two d6, a d8 and the nearly useless d12.

Wondering if she had more stuff in her pockets Tessa emptied them. In her left jean pocket she found a card, bent and slightly blue from the color transfer of her pants. The card was an Ace of Spades, that caused Tessa to think The card of death. The shape of the spade was made from a raven with its wings up. There was a small diamond cut out of the card. Tessa couldn't think as to why that would be there.

In her front right jean pocket was a mostly empty packet of matches. The packet was dark blue except for a yellow stamp, of whatever manufacture made it, or place sold it. Tessa had no idea what it meant other than a thought that pineapples were a symbol of hospitality in some cultures.

In her other jacket pocket was an old photo. It was of a girl, maybe 8, sitting on someone's lap. The adult's face was burned away.

Before Tessa could contemplate the photo any further the sound of gears caught her attention. The room had no windows or doors, but now there was a hole in the wall. A few people were moving down the hallway immediately outside her room. She joined them curious about what was going on. The people stopped in front of a huge window looking out and down, or maybe it was really up, at a planet. Tessa's eyes widened, she was in space. How had she gotten there? Or was this fake? Was this really a window? Had she been taken by aliens? Or was something else going on here?

Everyone around her was mumbling surprised, and fearful, just like her. No one knew what was going on.

Jake Colton

I opened my eyes and I discovered myself in a white room.The room is not empty at all but there are 5 things put in the room.First I saw a music box and I opened it then a melody plays.As the melody plays, it made me tear but I don't know why.Wait,Why am I here? How should I know? I don't remember anything.I looked around the room and saw a window.In the window,you can see a dark void with countless stars with a blue planet on the middle.Am I on space? Why am I on space? How should I know? I don't really remember even a thing.My name is Jake Colton that is all I know.I closed the music box then proceeded to the other stuff.Second, I saw a tarot card,Lovers Arcana to be specific.There are 5 names scribbled on the back of the card and they are Matt,Amy,Jake,Luke,and Mary.I know Jake because that is me and I don't know other 4.They could be my friends or my family,I just simple don't remember,I then saw a folder full of sheet music.I don't remember anything but I am able to understand the music sheet but the problem is the composer's name is not written on it so it is unknown who made them and then the paper saying "Goodbye! Jake!".Did I go somewhere? I don't think this is the type of place that I will go.Last but not the least, a grand piano? I don't why but as I hit one note then an another one followed by an another one.I produced a random melody.I think that's enough and I should go outside.I exited the room to the corridor hoping for a sign of life except for him.

The gathered people stare down at the planet, or is it up at the planet? Spacial differences being subjective in space that is unclear. As they watch, Tessa having pressed forward to see the planet to where she could touch the glass if she desired, the planet lights up. It looks as if all the lights on the planet are turned on simultaneously and then the light spreads. A part of Tessa knows exactly what that means, another part tries to deny it.

Just as suddenly as the lights came on, it is all gone. The planet shows no lights now. A shiver runs down Tessa's spine. Those around her sound panicked. One lady starts hyperventilating, she collapses to the ground and begs a god that is not listening for mercy. Tessa wonders "Is this not a mercy, we are alive on this... space station, and not below on the planet that is gone." A young man tries to comfort the crying woman, but she is inconsolable.

Tessa glances around the gathered people, hoping for a face that triggers something. There is of course nothing. Maybe that is even more of a mercy. The faces of loved ones are unrecognized in the gathered crowd, her heart twists, that means they were on the planet. Tessa spins around and touches the glass. It is cool and unyielding, though being released into space now would be no mercy.

She's just about to say something when a PA system crackles on.