Amnesia Ch.1

    A 17 year old boy awoke, bleary-eyed and confused. It was dark in the room he was in, save for the small sliver of light that tried to break its way in through a crack in the blinds that concealed a window. The intruding light made the boy get up from the bed he was previously laying in and open the blinds to let the bright morning light illuminate the room.

    Where am I? the boy thought as he got a good look around the room. The walls were so white that it was almost blinding, the carpeted floor a soft gray-ish color, and all of the furniture were different tints of brown. It seemed to be a hotel room, of sorts.

    The boy wandered into the just-as-blindingly-white bathroom and went to the sink. He stared at himself in the mirror, giving himself a once-over. He was wearing a black tank top along with a matching black collared jacket. His long hair was a golden color, much like his eyes, and he had a faint bruise hiding along his hairline. It was barely noticeable, but it was there nonetheless. He sighed and switched on the faucet putting his hands under the running water to splash some on his face, only to stop and freeze when he saw a steel contraption in place of his right hand- no -his whole entire arm, in fact. He moved some of the fingers on the steel arm and realized it WAS his own arm. Upon further inspection of himself, he found a much similar device in place of his left leg.

    Just as the boy was about to panic, he heard the door to the hotel room open then close. He stood silent as he listened to the footsteps of the person who had entered the room walk a few paces, then stop. "Ed? Are you up?" An unfamiliar voice rang out.

    Ed? Who's Ed? the boy wondered. When he did not answer, he heard the person walk over toward the bathroom door until they stood a foot away from the entrance.

    "Ed, why didn't you answer me when I called?" A boy with dirty-blonde hair and caramel-colored eyes asked, his eyebrows furrowed and his bottom lip stuck out in the form of a pout. This boy did not look familiar in the least.

    "I'm sorry, but do I know you?" The golden-haired boy asked, trying to recall ever meeting the stranger standing in front of him.

    The boys stared at each other until the caramel-eyed boy let out a chuckle. "Good one, Ed. You almost had me for a second there." When the golden boy didn't speak or give any indication that he knew what the other was talking about, the dirty-blonde haired boy began to sport a worried look. "You're kidding, right? I'm Alphonse, your younger brother. You can't have forgotten. Stop playing around, Ed. This isn't funny."

    "I'm sorry, but I really don't know who you are... And why do you keep calling me Ed? Is that my name?" The golden-eyed boy asked.

    "Yes, that's your name." The boy known as Alphonse, replied. He gave a sigh of exasperation and rubbed his temples with his fingers, telling himself to calm down. "We need to have you checked out at the hospital."