Direction

"You call yourself an abomination! Who are you!?"

"Who? what is Who?"

"ah...I'm not sure it just...seems like the thing to ask..."

"You ask questions when you do not know their meanings?"

"I think...I think it's what we call things. Like sand, or glass, or ice."

"I think I get it, so you want to know what I am called? I think I told you already, I have been labeled abomnination."

"But that's not a...name?"

"Name?"

"Yeah! It's a thing we call...people? Yes! For example mine is...er...mine is...."

You try to remember but it seems to elude you. As though a great fog surrounds you, an endless obscuring cloud. You try to push through it, but the harder you try to remember the denser the fog seems to get. A sharp pain breaks your focus. A sharp stabbing pain shoots through your arm, as though it had been stabbed through by a shard of molten glass. You scream as it burns up your arm.

"Agh!? Stop that! Stop that sound! It's horrible! Why are you doing that! Stop PLEASE!"