Okay, so I'm going to try to finish all the stories I've started. I'm not sure if I'll succeed, though. I decided to start with this story.
Eventually I left the park, heading for an unknown place that my feet were carrying me, hopefully out of the memory I was missing. People stared at me as I walked, but I ignored them. I kept walking until the sky slowly grew dark. As raindrops began falling from the sky, I sat down on a bench, angry, confused, and with not a clue as to who I was, let alone where I was.
Then, a question wormed its way into my thoughts, slowly spreading like a plague, until I was in tears and with only one thing on my mind: Why hadn't anyone found me yet? Didn't anyone care about me? Did anyone love me?
I desperately tried to fight the thoughts of suicide that were trying to wound themselves around my brain, knowing that they would just slowly suffocate me until I finally gave up. I tried to think positively, tried to tell myself that I did have a family, a family and friends who cared and wondered where I was, who wanted to see me safe. Maybe I even had a girlfriend.
Just then, I saw an image in my head of what I can only describe was the most beautiful girl I had ever seen. She looked Latino, with lustrous raven-colored hair and lovely emerald eyes. I reached out desperately, trying to grab a hold of the memory and never let it go, but soon it faded, and became swallowed in darkness. A few minutes later, all I knew was that I had seen a girl. I didn't even remember what she looked like. I sighed in pure frustration.
I didn't realize that someone had sat down next to me until I heard a voice ask, "You get beat up by some gang or something?"
The guy was tall, about six feet, if I was guessing correctly. He was dark, really dark, and his eyes weren't much difference. He had a mass of curly hair on his head (which was unsurprisingly black) that looked like it hadn't been combed too well. He was dressed a bit casually, in a camo hoodie, jeans, and Converse sneakers.
"Do I know you?" I asked cautiously, because I honestly didn't remember ever meeting this guy.
"Nope, I'm just your typical stranger, trying to start up a conversation," he replied, and then grinned, revealing a set of pearly white teeth that were in stark contrast to his black skin. "Name's Harley."
"Like the motorcycle?" I asked, not knowing what else to say.
He laughed, saying, "Everyone asks me that! You know, one of these days I'm going to get me one of those motorcycles. Then I can say, 'Hi, I'm Harley, and here's my Harley!'" After a few minutes he stopped, and looked at me strangely.
"What, you didn't think that was funny?"
I shook my head. "I'm not in the mood right now."
"You really need to lighten up. Hey, what's your name, anyway?"
I didn't answer. I didn't know what to answer.
"Okay, then, I'll just guess until you tell me," Harley answered flippantly. "Hmmm, Bob? Jack? Dick? Tom? Harry? Simon?" He continued rattling off names until I finally sighed and admitted, "I don't know."
"Your name is I Don't Know?" he asked. "Well that's an interesting name! Nice to meet you, I Don't Know!" It was clear he was trying to be funny, but I wasn't in the mood for any kind of humor. All I cared about was remembering who I was.
"I mean I don't remember my name," I replied irritably. "Or anything else, for that matter."
"So, what, that means you got amnesia?"
I nodded. Then I told him about how I woke up, feeling like absolute shit and with absolutely nothing on me but the clothes I was wearing.
Harley was silent for a while. Finally, he said, "Well, the nice thing to do is to introduce you to a guy who will do nice guy stuff for you. You see, my boss, Mr. Parnell, is a real good Christian-y guy. He can probably find you a job and maybe even a place to stay, for the meantime. Just make sure not to do anything that will earn you a lecture. Not only is he the king of those, but he always manages to wiggle something about Jesus in there."
"I don't care," I insisted. "I just need a way to survive until I remember everything."
"Alright," he answered, then looked up as a bus pulled up. He checked his watch, then told me, "I'll be back here tomorrow morning to show you where I work. Don't wander off, okay?"
I nodded, and he got up to board the bus.
I was in the living room, and scared for my life. I'd already cleaned up all the bottles of alcohol that were normally strewn all over the floor, and I already bought my father (aka The Monster) some more. Nonetheless, he had found something to blame me for. Apparently, I hadn't bought enough.
"YOU WORTHLESS LITTLE BASTARD!" he screamed. "That's what you are! I ask you to buy me my whiskey, and you can't even be bothered to buy enough!" He raised his hand, but before it descended onto my face, the scene disappeared into darkness.