THERE WAS NOTHING MORE FRIGHTENING THAN WAKING UP, NOT KNOWING WHERE YOU WERE OR HOW YOU GOT THERE.

Timothy learned this from a first-hand experience.

It wasn’t as frightening as, say, waking up and remembering you were kidnapped and imprisoned by a serial killer. But it was the fact that many horror movies began very much the same way as Timothy: cold, confused, and creeped out. The part where he’s kidnapped and tortured would come shortly afterward, and Timothy was not looking towards it.

Timothy did not have amnesia. He remembered everything, up to the point when he applied for a job at some fast-food chain. He couldn’t remember which. He also had a vague wisp of a dream about a plane. Flying on a plane, to be exact. And there was an Australian that was somehow connected to the plane as well.

Timothy shook his head. Dreams would do him no good at this time. He could ponder them once he had gotten out of these eerie woods. He didn’t like this place at all, but maybe it was just his hatred against pine-smelling things. These woods were almost completely consisting of pine trees stretching to the sky. Their deceivingly green leaves annoyed Timothy. Why couldn’t these trees be affected by the cold Timothy was suffering?

Something vibrated. Timothy jumped.

After a bit of investigating, he realized it was his phone. How nice of his captors to give his phone back to him.

What? Captors? Where had he thought of that? It was more likely he ran off somewhere in these woods by himself. Maybe he had been especially drunk that night, though he didn’t feel any trace of a hangover. However, he may have been in the forest longer than he thought. Rough stubble had already grown around his chin and mouth.

Again, Timothy shook his head. He couldn’t have been out here for too long. By now, he should have caught early stages of hypothermia. Timothy quickly pulled out his phone to see why it was vibrating so hard.

It was his calendar application, reminding him that his dog is now healthy and ready to be picked up.

But wasn’t that on Wednesday? Timothy checked the date. It was Wednesday, three o’clock pm.

But wait. Timothy clearly remembered that last night was a Sunday. Was he really out in the woods for two whole days? What was he doing here? And what was the last thing he could remember?

Was it McDonalds? He remembered there was a sign about drones. And then, he remembered feeling like he’d quit or something, but that wouldn’t be a surprise. Somehow, he got outside of McDonalds. And then…and then what?

Was it light? Was it an explosion? Was it a girl in the woods? Was that the woods he was in now? Maybe he had gone chasing the girl and ended up here? But then, where was the girl now? What had she done to him? Or was that all a dream?

So he did have a mild case of amnesia.

Well, that’s great. What can he do now? He needed to get out of the woods.

“Oh, that’s right. I have my phone,” he realized. His phone still had a good 30% left of its battery. Timothy opened a navigating app.

He wasn’t in the woods next to McDonalds. He was actually surprisingly close to the doctor’s office.

As he walked, Timothy shouted out as much as he could remember about himself.

“My name is Timothy Blake Fletcher. I am twenty-nine years old.

“My favorite ice cream flavor is raspberry sorbet. I am an archeologist. I recently discovered further evidence that dinosaurs have feathers.

“I am secretly afraid of touching chewed gum. I have perfect vision. My dog got sick recently.

I’ve broken my right ankle five times and my left ankle four times. I hate papercuts. My largest bruise was five centimeters in diameter. I am of average height and slightly below average weight.”

Satisfied that he knew enough about himself, Timothy continued on his way out of the woods. He wondered, for a moment, whether or not he should head home and change, as his face camera showed that he looked far from presentable. But then again, he doubted that many of the doctor’s patients looked very presentable anyway. And his home was a long walking distance.

It almost seemed like an awful lot of work for a dog, but Timothy needed something to do for the time being. Besides, he wanted to check if he had caught a cold in the woods. It was a good thing that he had built a tolerance against back cramps. He’d surely would have gotten one if his life’s job didn’t include bending over to study the ground all day long.

The trees were now getting sparser and more separated. They no longer clumped together and blocked the sun. Timothy’s vision was clouded with dark spots and a green fog. He blinked them away.

Then he heard the cars. In no time, he arrived at the edge of the road. Drivers shot him dirty looks as he crossed the crosswalk. He supposed they had a right to. Timothy must look like he was homeless. After all, it was a McDonalds uniform he was wearing now.

He reached the large building that housed many other medical departments. On the second floor was where his doctor’s office resided.

A bell system alerted the doctor that someone had arrived.

“Donna? Donna? Where are you?” the doctor called from another room, “who just came in?”

The red-haired nurse rushed forward. Timothy had gotten used to this doctor’s habits. The doctor used Donna more of a secretary than a nurse. Two more nurses milled around, going over paperwork and whatnot.

“Ah, Timothy, here for your dog?” Donna said, reading from a file, “Just come this way and—oh, are you quite all right?”

“Yes. I may have a cold though.”

“Donna?” the doctor called again, “I asked, who is it?”

Donna didn’t have time to answer before the doctor stomped out of a room, enraged. “Donna! I told you—oh, Timothy. Good lord. What happened to you?”

“Well, I’m not exactly sure.”

“You can start with why you’re dressed in a McDonalds uniform!”

“I think I was hired,” he recounted slowly, “because I wanted to take my mind off my dog for a while. I worked there for two, maybe three days? And then one time I got out, and I think something happened because I don’t remember anything else. I think it was two days ago.”

“Wait a minute,” the doctor said, “Donna, Donna, wasn’t there that big news about a gas leak two days ago?”

“Yes, it was at McDonalds.”

“Timothy, you wouldn’t happen to have worked at the McDonalds off highway 23, would you? The McDonalds that is nearly hidden behind these big trees?”

“Actually, you’re right,” Timothy replied, “What? What happened? Gas leak?”

“Do you seriously not remember anything?”

“Well,” Timothy tried to think harder, “there was…um…light? I’m not sure. It may have been a dream. And—oh, there was this really loud noise.”

“Oh, boy.” The doctor uttered this with a bit of scientific malice. “You know, I think you can help me. You’re an archeologist, right? You should know about rocks and stuff.”

“Well, that’s correct.”

“There’s something I want you to take a look at. I pulled it out of a tailor’s finger a few days back. In exchange, I’ll fill you in on what happened a few days ago. I’ll also need to run a few tests. Purely for your health and memory, of course.”

“Well, I really think I should be heading home…”

“You’re also, I’m presuming, missing a car. I could drive you to your house.”

“I can take the bus…”

“I’m also holding your dog hostage.”

Timothy sighed. “I really don’t have a choice now, do I?”

He followed the doctor into exam room four.