Rewritten

The girl woke. She groaned from the uncomfortable ground she had awoken on, and rubbed her eyes free of dust, whilst blearily peering around the gloom and trying to get her eyes accustomed to the lack of light. Darkness was indeed covering the whole of the room, except for the floor, a result of the hole that sat above the girl’s head. Through the hole a blinding light seared, and the girl squinted her dark eyes as it illuminated her paled skin. The wooden floorboards formed a musky scent, which lifted the girl’s nostrils. It mingled with a salty smell that protruded from some unknown place, but mainly just lingered around the girl’s whereabouts.

Except where exactly was the girl’s whereabouts? She looked around, more panicked now, and growing more so by the minute. She saw no sure signs of where she could be, or what she had been doing exactly before her late state of unconsciousness.

Then it suddenly hit her, like a punch in the stomach. The girl couldn’t remember a thing. She didn’t know where she was, what she had been doing, where she lived, whom she knew.

She couldn’t even remember her own name.

The girl searched her memory, frantically hoping to find anything in there. A name, an item, a place. There was nothing, except for two numbers, that of 14 and 23. The first was her age, she was aware of that much. But what was the other?

One important question suddenly came to her, and she needed an answer. It was this: how did she become at a loss to her memory? An accident, perhaps, or maybe…something else. All these things needed to be answered. And fast. The girl needed to find a solution, before her life could be rewritten…