The fog encompassed the coastline that stretched for miles until it become blurred with the gray, uninviting sky. I awoke in cool, damp sand as my vision lazily focused , and suddenly I sprung into reality. The mist was chilly on my bare face and I couldn't feel my toes, that where now as red as the blood that covered my hands.
OKay, why is there blood on my hands? What did I do?
Where was I? I turned my neck and instantly felt a pain that jolted me to a stop, not that I was walking very far, or with purpose. I could see tall, green oak tree's looming over granite cliffs and the song of bird and wildlife could be heard not too far from where I was. If I knew where I was I would consider this breathtaking, but in that instant I needed to know where I was. My eyes adjusted to my surroundings and suddenly I felt my primal senses shift into gear; WHERE AM I? And more importantly, WHO AM I? And why was there dried blood on my hands and clothing?
I ran. I ran and ran until my knees buckled and my toes felt like they where on fire from the cold sensation of the ocean kissing the bottom of my feet. It had to be winter from the fierce winds that where spraying salty mist, drenching my clothes. I searched for a way up the cliff, not even a hidden ladder or stairway, and quickly I felt the paranoia seep into my being as the world circled like the drain of a sink. I was barely holding onto my reality. Quick, even breathes couldn't keep me anchored, and I felt so weak.
And that's the last I remembered before the darkness took over and I passed out.