Lost

by Anybraginski

Sanderson's life consists only of nine months, the rest forgotten. Each day feels like some kind of slow dragging nightmare and he looses a little more of himself. The answers he needs simply aren't there. But as winter comes around, an old friend finds him. Will Sanderson see the answers he's been looking for?

October 11th, 2014

5:30 am: Bedroom. The alarm goes off. It rings three times. He hits the button on top of the device. The world goes silent. He rolls out of bed.

5:33 am: Bathroom. Crest toothpaste. Plain white toothbrush. Brush for two minutes. Rinse. The toothbrush goes back to it's place in a white Styrofoam cup, the toothpaste right beside it. He turns off the lights and quietly closes the door behind him.

5:36 am: Bedroom. White collared shirt. Khaki pants. Brown belt. Three pens go to the breast pocket of his shirt. A small notepad to his pants pocket. In the other goes his keys. A wallet wedges in the back pocket. The red vest he has to wear for work hangs on the back of the closet door. He grabs it on his way out. He turns off the lights and closes the door behind him.

5:42 am: Living area. Breakfast. Two Eggo waffles. A cup of coffee - three spoonfuls of sugar, no cream. The newspaper. It's a Monday. The town high school is in the paper. The cheerleading squad won a competition over the weekend. He's going to need a cup of coffee for the road.

5:57 am: He puts on the vest, then a light jacket over that. It's beginning to get cold outside. He checks all the windows to make sure they're locked. His other cup of coffee is in his hand. He turns off the lights and shuts the door behind him. He locks the door and begins to walk to work.

Sanderson had been living like this for nine months. Every morning was the same. Every day was the same. Every afternoon was the same. Every night was the same. Everything was wrong. This was not what he was supposed to do. This was not the world he was supposed to partake in. He knew that. But for the life of him, he couldn't remember why he knew that. Every moment felt like nothing more than a dream to him. Or rather- a Nightmare.