TW: Mentions of Self Harm
Unknown POV:
I woke up to the stale scent of cigarettes. For a second I thought I was home, but when I properly opened my eyes, the ceiling above me was unfamiliar, it was yellow and cracked. The sheets felt cheap, and scratchy. My throat is dry, "Ah..Ah" My voice came out hoarse, unfamiliar. I turned in the dark room in hopes of finding water or any liquid. I sat up slowly, blinking in the dark, adjusting my eyes to the dark. A red glow pulsed from an alarm clock on the nightstand. 3:12 a.m. Motel? Maybe, I don't remember checking in, I don't remember much really. The air was cold, I rubbed my arms for some warmth.
I got up from the bed, the floors creaked as I stood and walked towards the bathroom, I washed my face and drank some water from the tap, when I looked at the mirror, I stumbled backwards "That's…that's not possible." I walked towards the mirror again, touching my face, the reflection staring at me was someone else, I touched the mirror slowly, almost like it wasn't a mirror but someone else, my fingers touched the cold object. "That's really me?" My reflection stared back at me, messy black hair, sharp jawline, high cheekbones, eyes which probably were once bright, but their light dimmed now to a dark green, dark circles underneath them. Handsome but hollow.
I stepped out of the bathroom, the bedroom now illuminated by the dim glow of the bathroom light, I looked around my surroundings, clothes strewn across the floor and bed, a jacket, shirt, a single sock. A wallet with the cards half slipped out on the bed along with a small picture. Small white pills were engulfing the floor, along with a prescription bottle which they probably came from. I crouched down, and picked up the bottle, reading the label. "Sleeping pills." Involuntarily looking at the pill bottle made my stomach turn, and made me want to empty out whatever contents were in there. I looked around the room, if not for the pills, it would look like someone broke in. I walked over to the bed and picked up the wallet, I looked at the small picture, a picture of the face I have now, and one of a older woman, with the same eyes and hair. "It's probably this guys mom." I slid out a license, Leo Augustus, "Leo huh" D.O.B: 07/08/1985. "22 years old."
I sat on the edge of the bed, holding the empty bottle of sleeping pills in my hand. I assumed whoever owned this body probably took all of them. The silence pressed in my ears as I got lost in thoughts I couldn't quite catch. I was missing my own memories. I didn't know why, or who brought me here, or why I was in this body. I stared at the mess around me—the clothes, the pills, the unfamiliar hands gripping the bottle. I swear I could hear my own pulse.
"What do I do now."