Snippet #1338687

It had been ten days.

Ten days since everyone had their memory wiped.

Ten days since everyone he loved, couldn't even remember who he was.

Rowan lay sprawled on the ground with his head propped up against a rock, watching the gray clouds cave into the sky. Trees surrounded him like a bowl, branches swaying and colorful autumn leaves rustling. Peace and stillness was all around him, a good slice of nature making him feel serene and lazy. It was so quiet here, out in the hidden meadow under the trees. Away from the camp. Away from all the people scattering around like confused ants. He loved that feeling of it being him against the rest of the world. No one knew who he was. No schoolwork. No pressure. No one to care about. There was no complications any more.

Ever since the day of memory loss, everywhere Rowan looked all he saw were blank stares and blank pages. Trying to communicate with one another, not knowing any language. It was utter madness back at the campsite; everyone seemed to be arguing and there was this silent look in everyone's eyes. Emptiness. And ever since day one when he saw the campsite, he knew he would never want to go back. It was probably better this way. Now he wouldn't have to pretend to be a cave man, or, even worse, act normal and speak English. It would only be so long before the scientists would find out.

Unlike most people would if they were in his position, Rowan didn't ask what-if's or think of could be's. He was more than happy to forget all of that, banishing all those questions and facing forward with his new life here. Yet... there was one question that etched at him every now and then; he wondered if there were any like him. That still have their memory. Scientists screw up all the time, and he couldn't have been the only one. Whenever this thought came to his mind, Rowan often tried to push it away; deciding long ago that if there were any like him, he wouldn't go looking. They would have to find him.

Thankfully Rowan had savored a few things before the memory wipe-out. A couple of his favorite books he always carried around, a pen and notebook for his sketches, a bottle of water, some cash, a butterfly knife and some chalk for when he was away from home. Of course, since all the roads and buildings and houses had been burned, they weren't of much use. For the past nine days Rowan had only been observing the animals and environment around him, taking notes to himself that would probably be found thousands of years from now when humanity builds itself back up. He loved it all, being so surrounded by the environment. So close to earth.

A soft breeze sucked the air around him, and a black hawk swooped down out of nowhere on the branch of his tree. The bird's yellow eyes watched him, sharp and not missing a beat. Rowan longed to communicate to it somehow, no longer feeling that intimacy with animals that he used to. Is this what the city's done to me?

A high-pitched shriek suddenly amputated Rowan's thoughts. He leaped up from the ground, legs wobbly from not getting up for so many days, and bolted towards the scream, the black hawk flying ahead of him. He followed close behind. He ran and ran and ran, trees passing him in blurs of brown and green, until his legs were about to give out from under him. And the sight before him made him stop abruptly.

There, walking into the forest towards the campsite, were two female silhouettes that seemed strangely familiar.

Maybe I will find them after all.

[Ugh. Sorry, this post was incredibly drone-y. I'm never good with beginnings]