The last thing you remember was running. Bare feet treading the rain in a desperate attempt to escape your life in that kennel. The storm seemed heavier with each step but you continued on anyway, desperate to flee. And then, when your body couldn’t carry on anymore, darkness. You awakened in a new kind of cage. One with peeling paint and fluorescent lights that hummed in a maddeningly monotonous tune. Your memories were gone, washed away in the storm leaving nothing but your name. The doctors there promised to heal you, and yet their tortuous experiments only seemed to drag you deeper into your madness. Now you were nothing more than an amnesiac patient.

Escaping was one thing you learned you were good at. Whether by a stroke of luck or a bit of medical intervention, the doctors meant to treat you seemed to have underfed you your daily dose of sedatives. Using your short bout of consciousness, you managed to climb over the hospital walls and escape the confines of your cage once again. But now what? Where would you go when it seemed like there was nowhere you belonged? No place offered a dangerous vagrant shelter. You had no home, no safety, not even a memory to call your own. So you began to wander until you fell into a deep sleep once again.

When you awoke, you found yourself with a roof over your head except your hands were covered in blood. The stinging sensation suggested it was yours. Looking around at your unfamiliar surroundings, you figured you weren’t in the asylum anymore. And just when you turn your head around you freeze, face to face with a large wooden stick and a very angry looking man.

“Don’t move,” He said firmly, laced with a heavy accent you didn’t recognize. “or you’ll regret it.” The stranger eyed you cautiously, giving a small grunt as he took a step back while still holding the weapon to your face. “Tell me who you are and why you’re in my house.” Abruptly, he pointed to an empty wooden pane behind him, his voice rising. “And why did you break my window?!”