Charcoal: Pilot

>you are
>you’re
>your name is
>
>why don’t you remember your name?
>you rack your mind for details
>nothing
>wait
>nothing? at all?
>you can’t recall a single thing
>you attempt to sit up, but you get a throbbing pain in your head and slump back down
>looking all around you, you appear to be on a sidewalk
>why is it covered with snow?
>sidewalks are cleaned pretty often
>is it that early in the morning?
>where are you, for that matter?
>you roll over, onto your stomach, and push yourself up
>the migraine continues, but you refuse to fall over again
>you hobble down the sidewalk, trudging through the snow
>you call out, but there’s no answer
>in fact, there’s nobody on this entire street
>and judging from the look of these houses, there hasn’t been for quite some time
>the houses are sagging, crumbling, or just generally run down
>you’re not finding any help here
>so, you continue walking
>you pass countless abandoned homes
>your legs grow more and more tired
>but you press forward
>you'll find somebody
>eventually