Welcome to South Park (Gender neutral)

Cottage

"So, let's go over this one more time. You remember waking up on a bench, you know your name, you know your date of birth and your age which means you also know what year it is. You don't know what a hospital is or what it even looks like yet your subconscious knows and that's how you're here." The doctor repeats back to the teen for the fifth time. Y/n looks down, and their anxiety spikes as the knowledge the doctor likely doesn't believe them runs through their mind.

They did brain scans and checked for possible trauma/brain damage, but apparently, nothing was wrong with Y/n. Well, apart from the fact they can't remember anything. The doctor sighs, clearly becoming frustrated. This worsens Y/n's anxiety and the feeling they should run starts to prick at their skin.

"Well, there's nothing more I can do for you. The cops can access your government documents and house you while they figure out what's going on." That word, Y/n knows they've heard it before. An ache stabs at Y/n's temples as the flash of a short-lived scene plays in their mind.

"Get down on the ground!" Screams fill the hallways, cries from children as gunshots blast into Y/n's ears. "Grab the kid!"

Y/n doesn't know what that scene was or why it flashed through their mind, all they know for certain is their body is telling them to fucking run. Now.

Y/n jumps to their feet and books it down the hallways, running down the path they memorised earlier. Not questioning why they felt the need to memorise it, not questioning why they're running, there's no time for that. They need to run and they need to run now.

With the exit in sight Y/n bolts for the door, "STOP THEM!" The doctor hollers from across the room, security lunges at the teenager but Y/n manages to dodge it. So focused on reaching the exit they shoved past the person in their way, their elbow making contact with a freshly fixed broken nose.

"AGH!" The boy screams, grabbing his nose with his hands, "ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME RIGHT NOW?!" The scream makes Y/n want to turn around, to check if he's alright but their instincts tell them not to. Keep running.

They do. They keep running as fast as they possibly can where they're running to is unknown but they trust their instincts will take them to wherever it is they need to go.

Eventually, they start to slow to a walk. The poor teen's lungs ache with fatigue, and their legs burn begging for them to lay down but they can't. Not yet.

As the sun begins to set and the night grows cold Y/n finds themselves on the edges of woodland, keep going. Their body begs for rest, for food, for warmth. Keep going.

Their steps are slow, their feet barely leaving the ground causing the dirt beneath them to drag slightly. As Y/n is seconds away from collapsing a small cottage comes into view. There.

Without wasting a moment Y/n uses their last bit of energy to walk swiftly over to the cottage, they feel that if they don't at least try to power walk, they won't make it. So step by step, Y/n draws closer.

As their hand reaches for the doorknob they swing it open, shutting it tightly behind them as they step inside. Within seconds, they collapse. Their eyes strain, trying to stay open, it's okay... You can rest now... Sleep.

Their eyes flutter closed, trusting the knowledge that lingers in their subconscious. Allowing the teen to fall into a deep, but disturbing sleep...

"Grab the kid!" Gunshots continue to echo through the room as a small child is pulled from their mother's right embrace. As they cling to each other, desperate to stay together, a loud bang fires. The mother's arms grow limp, the grip that held her child falls and as the child is ripped away they look at where their mother's face should have been... The last time they'd ever see their mother, the woman who they believed was the most beautiful person on this planet...

Y/n awakens in the cottage to the sound of piercing screams that seem to echo through the empty walls. They sit up, their heart pounding in their chest as they try to remember what they were dreaming about. But it's all a blur, with no images or memories to hold on to, leaving only the feeling of terror that lingers within them. It must have been nightmare, one that left them with tears streaming down their face and a deep sense of fear. The teen clutches at their chest, trying to calm their racing heart.

As they take a deep breath and try to calm down, Y/n feels a deep sense of hunger and thirst that makes it hard to focus. Their body aches in protest, but the teen manages to push past their stiff joints, slowly rise to their feet and force themselves to get up and move around. The cottage is small, with only two rooms and three doors. One leads to the outside, another to the bathroom, and the third is likely a storage closet. Y/n heads over to the kitchenette and finds a stack of dusty plastic water bottles on the counter. They grab one and take a long drink, feeling the cool liquid soothe their parched throat.

Looking around the small cottage, Y/n can see that it hasn't been inhabited for years. Despite this, the place is still stocked with supplies like water, canned food, and toilet paper. It's clear that whoever owns the place intends on coming back at some point, but for now, Y/n is alone in the cottage.

The space is sparsely furnished, with only a couch, a dining table, and a kitchenette that are all in a state of disrepair. They then open the door to a small linen closet and pull out a sheet to cover the couch, so they can sit down without getting their clothes dirty.

Opening a can of beans they start eating, but their mind can't help but wander. They think back to the nightmare they had, trying to recall the details and make sense of the fear that still lingers. But all they can remember is the pain and the sense of loss that the dream left behind. It feels like a wound that will never fully heal, a reminder of all the things they've lost and the dangers that still lie ahead.

Sighing the teen finishes their beans and water and rinses out the can before leaving the rubbish on the bench as there is no bin to dispose of it all properly. Y/n then stands there, so unsure of what to do next. What can you do when you're in a strange town with no memories and a fear of "cops"?

Find the boys. They will help you.

The boys? There is only one boy that comes to Y/n's mind. The boy they elbowed on their way out of the hospital. Recalling the memory Y/n remembers seeing two, possibly three others with him. Having interacted with no one else Y/n figures it'd be best to start there.

Hopefully, he'll forgive them for hurting his nose...