Wake up!
Immediately boy!
Sharp pain fills the boy's head jolting him awake.
"Ahhh!"
In a cold sweat he sits up, rubbing his face he scans the room with his adjusting eyes, the floors covered with medicine bottles, scratches stretch out from the walls as if used as a scratching post for a lion, and the darkness no windows made it difficult to tell what time of day it was.
Where am I?
Standing up he walks towards a mirror, a sense of dread fills the air, stinging the back of his throat.
Stood in front of the mirror chiming bells fills the boys mind shrouding his thoughts... What!? Wh-what am I...! Staring back in the mirror is a shattered amalgamation of glass, each piece showing an eternal void filled with eyes staring back at him.
"No!"
He falls back the cold floor stinging his hands, the boy closes his eyes tight, this isn't real, this isn't real, its not real!
Oh its very real boy.
The voice echos within his skull, the echoing voice pushing his mind to the brink, before it stopped.
"Hes up! Get the doctor, quick. "
A warm voice of a women speaks near his ear. A slight beep slowly becomes clearer with the mumbling of people afar. What? Struggling to open his eyes hes bombarded with sterile lights above.
"Where am I?"
His voice barely escapes as a slight raspy breath.
A colorfully dressed nurse rushes to the boy's side, checking the vitals monitor.
"He-hey"
"Shh, don't speak just yet, you need to rest."
The nurse's voice was soft, she was older but understood the distress the boy in front of her must be in.
A nurse. Where am I?
Parsing his mind he realized there's nothing, no family, no home, no idea of where he even was, but one thing was there... A name, his name
"Henry?"
The name was yelled by a older mans voice six foot, and ruffled the man in a doctors coat rushed to his side.
"How do you feel, any pain, a headache?"
Do I know him? How does he know my name?
Henry thought of the possibilities, was he just a doctor, or did he know something about him?
He mustered a weak rasp,
"How, do you know... my name?"
The doctor looked at him with a face of confusion, the nurses smiled a bit before the doctor made a grin.
"Well, you my friend, have a habit of talking in your sleep"
The doctor chuckled
"More-so screaming in your sleep. We had to move you to a closed off wing so the other patients could sleep."
That explains why its so hard to talk, but then why am I here...
Mustering a difficult final question Henry sputtered out
"What happened?"
The doctor's smile fell as he looked into Henry's eyes.
"Well I was hoping... you would know."
The doctor stood up from Henry's side.
"Around a week ago you were found in the rubble of a apartment complex."
The rubble? Henry went to ask the follow up before the air in his lung's seeped out, causing an intense coughing fit.
"Are you okay?"
Henry slowly nodded his head before attempting to speak again.
"What, do y-you mean rubble?"
The doctor slowly stood up,
"I don't think I can help you Henry. Were going to run some more tests on you, and if everything's alright... you'll be discharged."
As the doctor walked away Henry tried mustering some final words, anything that would get him any closer to why he was here,
"Whats wrong with me!"
The doctor turned around and looked at Henry, and without a second thought replied,
"Nothing that's why were worried."
As the doctors footsteps became fainter, and fainter. Henry stared at the ceiling of his room.
Who am I?
Often, your name is the closest thought to who you are as a person. If you know your name you know who you are, but what we take for granted are the memories that decide the meaning behind your name childhood birthdays, early morning holidays, arguments with friends, and of course the memories you share with your family. However as if it never mattered until now, Henry realized that no matter how much he parsed he could not remember having a family, or how long he had been alive.
Besides some basic knowledge on math, language, and oddly poetry. Henry didn't even know what year it was, and if he knew anything about the world he was in it was split up into fragments, some as simple as how to use a toaster, and some being faint looks at an old war documentary.
Trying to make sense of it was near impossible, besides there was something much more confusing on Henry's mind. Why did no one acknowledge his lack of a face.
After awakening from the nightmare Henry was confused whenever catching glimpses at his reflection in the shiny equipment. His face was distorted multiple fragments of it floated around showing nothing but darkness, it made him uneasy to look at after a while. The nurses, and doctor however didn't seem to notice.
***
After what felt like hours, of tests Henry was brought to the front office and given a backpack.
"Whats this?"
Henry felt weird hearing his voice, it was alien he didn't remember hearing it before waking up. At least he could speak instead of wheezing now.
"Just whatever you had on you when you got to the hospital. Of course we didn't pry but I did pack your clothes in there. Feel free to change in the bathroom."
So this is mine?
Rushing into the bathroom he opened the bag and started rummaging through its pockets. There was a pair of clothes and shoes filling up most of it, but besides that there was a shiny square shaped trinket, a mini notebook, and a couple dozen ballpoint pens. Very helpful. Pocketing the square Henry peeked inside the notebook, but he realized all the pages were blank besides the first.
***
Property of H.P
33 DEAD IF YOU FOUND THIS FUCK YOU
Well I guess I'm into the dramatics.
There was a small engraving on the front of the notebook that Henry could feel, not quite read but running his fingers over it he realized it was two words.
"Good Luck"
Henry chuckled got dressed, and walked out to the hospitals reception before coming to a realization. What now? With all the mystery Henry forgot that he was essentially homeless, broke, and an amnesiac. What could he possibly do when he walked out those doors. He ran to the young receptionist who had given him his belongings.
"Hey!"
The receptionist jumped.
"Where do I go?!"
Puzzled the young man pulled out a file, and peeked through it glancing at Henry.
"Well, it says here that you had sigil for the academy when you came in. Is it not in your bag?"
A sigil?
"Its not in my bag what do I need it for?"
The receptionist made a worried face to Henry.
"Its how you get into the acceptance ceremony. Oh, but don't worry you should be able to just prove your identity with the administrator's... if you don't have it."
The young man had now become visibly uncomfortable, so Henry moved to a cushioned chair near the exit.
Rummaging through the bag Henry found nothing new besides some trash for a candy bar.
Prove my identity?! I barely know my first name let alone my own identity.
Looking out sunlight was slowly dimming. Henry had to get somewhere safe or he would be out in the night, alone.
Slamming into the receptionist's desk for the third time Henry asked.
"Wheres the academy?"