Who am I?
My vision slowly got clearer. I started to collect images from the space in front of me. Everything was so known, so familiar, and yet, I wasn't sure for anything of them. A sense that all of them belonged to me was flickering in me, trying to understand the right and wrong. I tried to concentrate. It brought no result. My thoughts, my memories, were like playing a strange game with me and weren't letting me to define what I wanted. I tried to fear. It was impossible. I had just recovered from a situation I wasn't aware of and I couldn't feel anything about it. Not even curiosity. Moreover, a latent amnesia was overtaking me. What the hell was happening to me?
I was seated on a desk. Across of me there was an empty chair. Had I been waiting for someone? Had someone been there and left to call for help when they see what happened to me? Had someone been there and caused to me what I've just woken from? The possibilities seemed to be endless and they were coming unwearyingly in my mind. Like I was in an intellectual effusion that had risen from within me since the time I had found my consciousness. Was that someone going to come back and do more to me? No worries, neither cold nor hot.
At the right corner of the room I was in, there was a single bed. It was so narrow that it could be called "half" instead of single. For a strange reason I wondered if what I had just thought was funny. The covers were untidy thrown on it and the pillow had fallen on the floor. White, dirty walls were around the bed. Not even a single bit of decoration. At the left of the bed there was the wooden door of the bedroom. It was closed. Close. Open. Strange thought.
On the other side of the door there was a big library full of books. The pattern in which the books were placed on the selves was, in some way, algorithmic. On each self, the backs of the books were in the same color hue and the order in which they were arrayed was from the thickest to the thinnest. Odd, but beseeming, for a reason. I tried to focus my vision so as to read the titles of the books but it would get blurred in an instance. Perhaps I should have to wait for a little longer, in order to get a bit better.
Beside the library there was a big white board placed on a tripod. Thick lines of a black marker were written in it. Symbols, constants, variables, numbers, limits, integrals, all connected in tangle of equations and systems. Calculations and verifications. Circled result. Right. Wrong
I saw something moving on my left. It was fast, sudden, and my dim sight wasn't helping at all. Fortunately, it cleared quickly. It was a man. He came and sat in the empty chair opposite of me. Memory waves started to run through me. He was familiar to me. He was young, but his face looked very tired, like he hadn't been sleeping for days. His hair was messed-up and greasy. He was wearing a pair of glasses with a thick black frame. He looked at me and smiled, like he knew me from a long time ago. I was familiar to him.
"Hello", the young man said.
"Hello to you too", I responded. New memory waves at the sound of my voice.