Darkness.
That's all I remember before I was birthed a second time on this God forsaken island. Born naked (or optionally wearing PJ pants), just like the first time, with nothing but a bandage, a torch, and a rock that strangely fit perfectly in my hands.
Where did I come from? Why am I here? Why do grown men run at me while I go about my business, shouting things that would make most men cringe?
I don't know. What I do know is I don't have time to ponder these things, as every moment I spend surviving. Smashing rocks like the prisoner I am, gathering wood like when I was a young man. This is now my life.
At night, I hear strange noises, moaning outside the shack I hastily put together. I also have heard gun shots. I suspect I will need one soon, or I will eventually become like the many I have seen on the side of the road, thrown out like yesterday's garbage.
Maybe tomorrow, I will look for answers. Today I have to survive.
That was beautiful.... thank you
Edited:
any other story ideas?