Banan-chan
Previously QueOne
George woke to a gentle breeze on his face and the delicate fragrance of flowers. He blinked groggily and sat up, as his surroundings began to register.
It was night, and the sky was glowing dark blue with stars. In the bright moonlight, George realized, perplexedly, that he was lying in a vast meadow. As far as the eye could see, there was nothing but tall grass and wildflowers swaying rhythmically in the wind. The gentle moonlight and cool breeze put George at ease, and the soothing floral scent beckoned him to return to his slumber. However, he had an overwhelming feeling that he wasn’t meant to be here, and began fumbling around in his pocket for his phone. As George finally managed to fish the dingy device out, he found that it was out of power. “Damn,” he said to himself quietly. “How am I supposed to call…”
He trailed off. Who was he about to call? His heart sank as he tried to remember where he came from, coming up with nothing. I was probably going to call my mom, he reasoned. That’s what anyone would do in this situation. But he realized, uneasily, that he didn’t even know what his mom looked like. George got to his feet, brushing the dirt and grass off his pants. Maybe a little walking would get his brain to stop blanking out. As he stood up however, George felt a piercing pain at the back of his head. He reached a hand towards the source, wincing as his head continued to burn. His hand recoiled almost immediately. In faint moonlight, George could see fresh blood dripping off of his fingers. As he suspected, there was some sort of injury there.
Huh, George thought to himself, as he used his sweatpants to wipe off the fresh blood on his hands. This injury might explain my amnesia. Perhaps he had been beaten up by some gangsters, and they dumped his body in the middle of nowhere. Or maybe he had come out here on his own volition, and was ambushed by some person or Pokemon.
George looked out upon the seemingly infinite meadow dancing silently in every direction. In any case, he was here now. An amnesiac in a completely unfamiliar place, with no clear path back to civilization. “It’s not the worst,” George mumbled to himself absentmindedly, looking up at the sky, the cool breeze wafting through his hair. “This place is peaceful as can be.” He closed his eyes as, for a moment, the burning at the back of his head seemed to become more intense.
It was night, and the sky was glowing dark blue with stars. In the bright moonlight, George realized, perplexedly, that he was lying in a vast meadow. As far as the eye could see, there was nothing but tall grass and wildflowers swaying rhythmically in the wind. The gentle moonlight and cool breeze put George at ease, and the soothing floral scent beckoned him to return to his slumber. However, he had an overwhelming feeling that he wasn’t meant to be here, and began fumbling around in his pocket for his phone. As George finally managed to fish the dingy device out, he found that it was out of power. “Damn,” he said to himself quietly. “How am I supposed to call…”
He trailed off. Who was he about to call? His heart sank as he tried to remember where he came from, coming up with nothing. I was probably going to call my mom, he reasoned. That’s what anyone would do in this situation. But he realized, uneasily, that he didn’t even know what his mom looked like. George got to his feet, brushing the dirt and grass off his pants. Maybe a little walking would get his brain to stop blanking out. As he stood up however, George felt a piercing pain at the back of his head. He reached a hand towards the source, wincing as his head continued to burn. His hand recoiled almost immediately. In faint moonlight, George could see fresh blood dripping off of his fingers. As he suspected, there was some sort of injury there.
Huh, George thought to himself, as he used his sweatpants to wipe off the fresh blood on his hands. This injury might explain my amnesia. Perhaps he had been beaten up by some gangsters, and they dumped his body in the middle of nowhere. Or maybe he had come out here on his own volition, and was ambushed by some person or Pokemon.
George looked out upon the seemingly infinite meadow dancing silently in every direction. In any case, he was here now. An amnesiac in a completely unfamiliar place, with no clear path back to civilization. “It’s not the worst,” George mumbled to himself absentmindedly, looking up at the sky, the cool breeze wafting through his hair. “This place is peaceful as can be.” He closed his eyes as, for a moment, the burning at the back of his head seemed to become more intense.
