Amnesia and the Igloo

***Writing prompt from http://www.writersdigest.com/WritingPrompts/

You awaken with amnesia in what looks to be an igloo. You have $4 and a rock in one pocket, and a toothbrush in the other. Someone is staring at you. Write this scene.

Please limit your response to 500 words or fewer.


“Who are you?” I asked, feeling eyes upon me.

It was fairly warm in the small space that I observed to also be quite dim. There was only a small fire at the center and it lit shadows of unnerving shapes that threatened to come alive.

The being only smiled and nodded to my consciousness. He sat calmly in front of the fire, refusing to take his unblinking eyes from me.

My heart pounded and I felt chills all over my body. I looked away from the man’s eerie stare, trying to ignore it, but couldn’t. As I turned, I felt something hard jabbing into my flesh and let out a groan. I rubbed my side and realized the existing objects that hid in my pockets.

I sat up, rubbing my head and took a glimpse at the man that never took blue eyes off of me, then just as quickly turned away. He seemed to have a familiar presence and yet I felt fear to be near him. I kept my distance, crawling to the farther side of the igloo where the shadows played diligently.

I let out a breath, looking down, and my long, brunette hair covered my face. Digging inside my pockets, I found a toothbrush and a rock that was wrapped with multiple pieces of paper. I unfurled all the paper from the rock and looked closer at them, maybe hoping for them to be some sort of clue as to where I was and what I’d been doing here. No such luck. The evenly shaped bills were each a dollar and only consisting of four.

Four dollars, a rock, and a toothbrush. What was I supposed to do with those?

Suddenly, I heard the shuffling of a pair of feet and a cough. The man had stood up from where he was and was putting on another sweater and a jacket. Was he planning to leave? I hoped so!

He also took with him, with my wide-eyed surprise, a shiny, metal object that he nonchalantly held in his hand. I felt a twisting in my stomach as I recognized the danger I could be in.

The man saw my reaction to what I had just seen and chuckled. “Don’t worry,” he muttered. I expected for him to say something more. To tell me that it was just a toy, but he loaded the gun in front of me, inserting the bullets into the slots.

“What are you going to do!?”

I needed an answer. I needed to hear that he wasn’t going to use it. That hopefully, whoever this man was, he wasn’t a killer who would murder an innocent living creature, human or animal.

Like the first question I had asked earlier, he gave no answer. This frustrated me, but fear clogged my throat. I was much too afraid to say anything else that might make him use the weapon on me.

I felt my hands shaking. What was going to happen to me?