You awake, alone, cold...maybe cold. It's hard to tell, it's hard to hear. There is no sound here, no light, and it seems it's just you. Alone. Maybe, you have your thoughts. Your subconcious is screaming...or maybe it's just quiet enough that you can hear it. It's words are strange, mixed, and mashed up. Do this, do that. You aren't sure what it wants you to do yet. You. Who are you? Who were you? You remember your home, it was peaceful. Then that is when it happens...
You awake, or maybe you were always awake, inside a home. Is it your home? Feels like it, smells like it. You know these wooden floors and they know you.
(You may play that tune now.) A soft tune plays, hard to name it, maybe you never heard it before. Maybe. In the end it helps you feel at home.
Looking around the room you can see the radio which the song is playing on, old school. Homely. Maybe you can turn it up, help drown out this ominous feeling in the back of your head. Speaking about that radio though, it...is located on the counter too your left. Next to the fridge...you are pretty sure you are in the kitchen. Before you is an island, some unfolded clothes are laying upon it. You remember that you were going to have guests over...and oh no! The state of your home is a mess. There is a lot to do. But. What are you going to do? Your subconscious seems to be arguing with itself. It's hard to move because of the headache it's giving you.
(Sorry for leaving so much stuff to be decided by you all, but hey the beginning is the part where we always have the most questions.)
YOU ARE READING
This Road We Travel
AdventureA story written by the readers, what our hero does is based off what the readers want them to do. (Though From Time to Time I will take the wheel har har!) The setting takes place in a peculiar world known as Pickwickian, how we got here is unkno...
