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No progress has been made on my identity. I guess no one that knows anything has taken notice yet. Or maybe that's exactly what whoever is responsible wants the world to think. I'm starting to get scared now. Have you ever walked through busy city streets, unsure if one of the people walking along is going to grab you and take you away? My time on the ice is the only time I get away from the paranoia of not knowing. And it is bliss. It reminds me of my dad's smile, and it keeps me sane. 

 

Maybe I've been watching too many movies since I woke up. Too much free time. One thing is certain though; you dont just wake up with a scarred face and amnesia without someone or something else being involved. I spend my days going to the local ice rink in the small college town I've been living in. Rolla, Missouri. There isn't much else going on here except the school, which works for me. It's quiet. Then I go home and I watch movies and some news, try to catch up on the world I don't remember. After a few weeks of my routine of mind-numbing fear and solace, there was a box on my doorstep. There was no address, from the sender or my own. It wasn't sent through the mail, someone left it there. And they know where I live which means they know who I am. Or was. 

 

I brought the box inside and cut the tape carefully. I figure there isn't anything inside that would hurt me or I'd already be dead. I unfold the flaps and inside is a stack of about 12 cassette tapes. None of them are labeled, but there is a cassette player at the bottom of the box. This must have to do with my accident. There is no other possibility. Already I can feel the blood rushing to my neck and my throat closing up. I can't think over the sound of my heartbeat. The reality hadn't set in until now: If someone was after me I wasn't safe from them. The tapes can wait for now, I need to find out who left them here. I rushed outside and looked around. Obviously there was no one. No footprints, not that I'd be able to make use of them, and no gas station security camera to go look at. I really gotta stop watching those movies. 

 

Inside I calmed myself down and thought long before I went back to the box. What was I expecting to find there, really? Overwhelmed by fear, I sat down with the tapes. The plastic cases aren't labeled but inside, each is marked with a number. The numbers must be a play order. I pop tape number one into the player and listen, hoping to get the answers I'm looking for. I'm hanging off an edge with only one hand as it is, if I don't get some grip soon I'm going to fall. 

Edited by WeaponX
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