There was a time when men would hide from the freezing cold, curl up inside their houses under thousands of blankets, hugging their wives and drinking hot coffee, or at least that´s what I’ve been told… What we’ve all been told since kids, the sky above us might be gray, everything surrounding us might be covered in thick white snow, but there was a time the everyday colors of life were more than white and gray, there were all sorts of green, blue, red, sometimes even purple and pink when the Sun pierced the clouds in the right angles in the early mornings of the world before the one I’m living in. No one hides from the cold now, it has been constant all the 26 years of my life, and long before that, my father, my grandfather and his father before him, they all suffered from the same cold, funny enough, we’re the ones to blame for that…

I cover mi face with my left hand as I feel cold sharp hail falling, as if it wasn’t enough having hailstorms almost every day, the hail is fucking sharp, not like I’m exaggerating, it is sharp enough to cause mothers to bring their kids inside when it starts falling or in the worst cases, sharp enough to be used as public punishment back in the safe zones. I remember seeing it once, a man stole a loaf of bread for his family, maybe in the world before this eternal winter, the poor man would’ve been just fine if he swore he wouldn’t steal again, but not in this world, of course not, here he was seized by the soldiers patrolling the safe zone, beaten almost to dead and held captive for around two days or so until the next hailstorm fell, that day they took out his clothes and tied him to a post in the center of the main square, everyone saw through their windows what this goddamned hail could do to a man, and what could happen to them if one day they were hungry enough to steal a loaf of bread…

My right side is burning with pain, and my left hand is not offering enough cover for my face but something is blocking my right hand, I’m trying too hard to lift it but somehow I’m unable to, all I can see is my left hand in front of my face but it’s almost as if it wasn’t my hand, as far as I know, it is in fact my hand but panic starts rising with the realization that there’s no feel to it. Yeah its mine, it moves when ordered and does exactly what I want, but there’s just no feel to it, and the situation just keeps getting worst cause my head won’t move either, something is pinning me down...

At least there’s a feeling right there, the feel of something pressing down on me, I try to focus my eyes in something else that’s not my hand but mobbing it elsewhere would leave my eyes vulnerable to the sharp hail, and I like my eyes right as they are, with no hail piercing it, a chuckle gets stuck in my throat as the pain in my side increases awfully, anyway I don’t know what’s worst, the feeling of not feeling anything at all, the pain, or laughing at my own jokes.

Stolen story; please report.

“What the fuck is he actually laughing right now?!”

The voice of a woman pierces through the silence, as my mouth opens to try to utter a response, nothing comes out but the feeling of something warm oozing from my mouth, which is almost impossible due to the fact that I’m… No, we. We’re in the middle of a fucking hailstorm, there’s no way possible to be feeling warmth. Blood is warm. The thought is just fired through my mind, as if it wasn’t mine at all, but it´s completely right and that sudden realization it’s enough to start driving me crazy, suddenly it all is in question as little things I haven’t noticed before start falling in place.

I don’t know where I am.

I can only move my left arm.

I’m having sudden bursts of pain.

And the most important of them all, the fact I don’t know who I am, they’re memories swimming in my head, faces of people, places, thoughts I can’t describe altogether, it’s all mine but I’m lost inside the walls of this mind, finally a scream finally pulls out from my throat, it comes along with a worst burst of pain from my right side and a lot more blood spilling out my mouth, suddenly voices start becoming clearer, still not understandable, but their tone tells me everything I need to know, they’re worried, at least four more voices echoing off the walls, that tells me we’re in a reduce space, probably a small room I have no idea why I know that, but I know.

As all this thoughts fly inside my head, a delicate hand takes mine, it’s strong but gentle, it’s trying to make me stop covering my face, panic starts rising again, I don’t know who are this people pinning me down, or why they would want me to stop covering my face from the hail, as I try to let go of the small hand, a warm tickling sensation embraces my left ear, it’s the voice of a woman, she’s too close, honestly I can’t figure out what she’s saying, but it’s enough to call me down, somehow I realize they mean me no harm, as my left hand leaves the front of my face my eyes start focusing on an awful gray ceiling stained with mold, the tiny hand starts caressing mine as a face starts to appear in front of me.

“It’s going to be alright Joel.” The woman with the beautiful face says.

“Well at least now I know who I am.” I whisper as darkness grips me tight and pulls me from consciousness.