So, this is my first story. Stick with me, and some constructive criticism is good. I just really don't want people saying this story sucks without anything for me to go off of. It's annoying, so please don't do that. The rating is M, because there's some violence and swearin'. Thank you for reading this.

As I lay on what I think to be an operating table, I remember how the man in the checkered suit had shot me. He had said to me that from my point of view that my package run must have seemed like an 18-karat run of bad luck. All the while I was thinking 'Yeah right, it was rigged from the start,' which he then proceeded to say that it was, proving me right. I felt triumphant for about all of two seconds as I was shot in the face just about then. I have to say, it really hurt, and now my head is ringing.

Enough about my death though, I should tell you about myself. I don't remember my age or name, just my job. I'm a courier, the mailman of the Mojave. I know what you're thinking though, great memory from someone who's just been shot in the head and is pretty much undead. I also want to find the guy who shot me in the face and skip rope with his entrails. But, for now, I'm stuck in a doctor's house. In the Mojave Wasteland, that's life.

As the doctor came in I got up and asked him where I was, he didn't answer for a second. I asked, "Hello?" and he snapped back to. He just said, "Amazing," and I looked at him with a puzzled face.

"What?"

"You stood up without any help when you were just shot in the head."

"Oh. That. How does that matter?"

"You may be as strong as the Lone Wanderer."

"The Lone what?" I asked completely clueless.

"The Lone Wanderer, she's a hero from Vault 101 in the Capital Wasteland."

Somehow I knew that place, "Oh."

"Sorry, I've just been rambling on, I'm Doc Mitchell. Do you remember your name?"

I thought for a second, "No."

"Sorry 'bout that."

"It's okay."

"So what should I call you?"

"Just call me courier, where's the graveyard?"

"The graveyard is just down one of the dirt paths, on a hill. But, first I need you to take a test."

"What is it?"

"It's that Vigor Tester over there. It will show your abilities."

I thought about how much I hated tests, "I have no idea how to do this, sooooooooo-"

"Don't worry 'bout that, all you have to do is grab the handle and squeeze."

'Damn it' I thought "Okay." I went over to the big faded machine that said Vitomatic Vigor Tester on the front. "Here goes," I said to myself. I grabbed the handle and squeezed, it said: strength, 10; agility, 10; endurance, 3; intelligence, 3; charisma, 10; luck, 10; perception, 3. "Once again, amazing," Doc Mitchell said. "How?" I said.

"You just got four tens. I didn't even know that was possible."

"Oh, look at that."

"You're not surprised?"

Well considering that I don't really know anything anymore, I said, "Nope."

"Well, that surprises me"

I sighed, not trying to be rude, but out of restlessness, so I asked, "Can I go to the cemetery now?"

"Sure," he handed me my things and said, "here are your things."

"Thanks."

He pulled out some strange mini-computer, "And here, take this."

He handed the strange device to me, "What is it?" I asked.

"It's a Pip-Boy 3000, a wrist computer with a few other features."

"Like what?"

"I'll leave that to you to figure out."

"'Kay I guess."

He opened the door for me, "Well, goodbye, and do me a favor by not getting shot in the head anymore."

When he opened the door I was blinded by a bright light, "That's some bright light, how long was I out?"

He said with a grim look on his face, "Six months, I'm sorry." When he saw the horrified look on my face he laughed and said, "Hold on there, I'm just kidding with ya'."

"Whew," I said, feeling really stupid.

"Well, goodbye, and feel free to come back if you need my help."

"Bye," I said, and I was off. Well for about two seconds, AGAIN.

He yelled after me, "Go see Sunny Smiles, she'll make sure you remember how to survive out in that Wasteland."

So, my first chapter, feedback would help. Just hopefully with something to help my writing. Still, not sure about my writing ability. Thanks for reading!