NOW LIVE! Today's the day you meet your new best friend. You don’t have to leave Wolfy behind... In 'Pets & Sidekicks' your companions level up with you!

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Message: <blockquote data-quote="James Heard" data-source="post: 3976559" data-attributes="member: 7280">The Night BeforeHe woke up again in a cold sweat, and darted his hand out to the nightstand to gulp greedily at the tepid water next to him. The dreams, always the dreams... Every night was a disaster waiting to happen, the monsters of his unknown past lurking in the corners of his mind waiting to prey upon him.What was worse, he wasn't sure if he was the monster his dreams were warning him about or if the monster was out there waiting. Fickle things, were dreams.Sitting up, he ran his fingers through his hair and stared across the bedroom at the mirror in the pale moonlight streaming through the window. Was his hairline always this high or was it receding? This place was maddening, the staff friendly but less than helpful. He couldn't remember his own name, for crying out loud.Other issues were less distracting on an emotional level, but only because of the dark shadow of lack of information cast over him because of the amnesia. Whatever else he didn't know, he was fairly certain that loss of memory wasn't normally accompanied by... spontaneous knickknacks. Sheets of paper, countless combs and cutlery, a hammer and a glass figurine - objects of his ordinary dissatisfaction fell from his fingertips sometimes, dream-like victims of his frustration.The other day he sat for four hours tapping out stacks of pennies, just to see if there were some cosmic piggy bank he were robbing that would eventually run out. He couldn't. Nor could he summon a driver's license or a high school yearbook, a picture of his mother, the address of his first girlfriend, his dog, or a pony.Not that the pony wasn't interesting, made out of who knows what and starring at him with a fixed baleful eye that any wax museum curator would jealously curse over. And once done, to smoke, to the ether, to elsewhere, where? He stared at the empty glass and watched it vanish into nothingness and then twist from that nothingness whole again and full of water.He sipped the chilled water. "Drink Me," he thought. Reflecting on the rabbit hole, he put the glass down and rolled over to try to sleep.Walking through the Looking GlassHe stared at himself in the mirror, willing memories to come to surface in what had become his morning ritual. He checked his teeth, the rings under his eyes, his profile, all to see if today was the day when something new would happen that would reveal the slimmest clue to his former life. God, he'd cut off an arm for the recklessness to have gotten a tattoo when he was younger, or perhaps to have robbed a bank. Then there'd be somewhere to start, someone looking for him. Instead, there was only this: He looked over the spare room with its polite wallpaper and lace throw tossed over the recliner in the corner. He frowned at the white sheets stained with sweat rumpled across the bed before frowning deeper as he simply...thought at them and they vanished before another push and they returned, heavily starched or something like it, crisp and laid out like a geometric design tight across the bed.There were stranger things than a house full of amnesiacs in this place, and deeper mysteries than magic sheets. He shook his fist impatiently until the razor appeared and scraped the dark black stubble from his face. A name. Everybody had a name, right?In A Pool of TearsReluctantly, he made his way out of his room to join the others. Their hosts, or gaolers, depending on how you looked at things, were already up. Even the dogs had names, he acknowledged with a nod as he passed the door where Vanessa sat reading. Maybe I should pick some pithy descriptor like the others? He looked at his empty hand, closed it, and opened it to reveal the delicate silver fork before shaking his head and closing it once more to make it vanish.Nope, The Human Fork sounds ridiculous.He continued down the stairs and toward the kitchen, pausing to nod noncommittally at the new face there while digging for food in the icebox. "Do I know you?" he asked, before segueing into "Scratch that, do you know me?" he said hopefully.He reached across the table to shake her hand, wincing when another fork appeared and fell to the table with a clatter. That's it. I'm going to be the fork guy. The #$%ing fork guy.#$%."I don't even know what day it is."</blockquote>

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