Nobody

What? Where?

The sun was high in the sky as I sat on the fender of the rusted car with a cigarette in my hand and a big can of energy drink between my thighs. My head was killing me and I squinted against the light. With a start I realized I didn't remember how I got there. For a moment, I wasn't even sure where I was. I was out back of a house with three sheds behind it, not including the small little shed that I figured was for a well pump. There was a decent sized back deck off a sliding glass door that had a set of blinds hanging inside, and a smaller one from a back door further back. There was gravel paths marked by little lights that I could see solar cells on the top off that led to all three sheds.

I got up, putting the cigarette in my mouth, and walked around the front of the house, shading my eyes from the sun.

I looked around, frowning.

The road leading to the clearing the trailer sat in had been trimmed. The grass of the clearing had been cut, the cuttings nowhere in sight. The house was brick red with white trim and white gutters, the front door oak panel with a bronze framed frosted window that was inset slightly to the house. The windows had flowerboxes underneath with fresh planted flowers bobbing in the breeze. The front porch was a large thing, with a railing, and wide steps. There was a powder-blue 60's Ford F-150 sitting next to a red with a white stripe 80's Ford F-150 with a toolbox in the back, both with brushguards and winches. They were both sitting in gravel. The tailgate was down on the red and white pickup, a sleeping bag in the back with two dufflebags bracketing it. It was mussed, with a pillow half visible. There was a slate square path from the gravel parking area to the steps of the front porch.

Had I done all this?

I looked around slowly, squinting in the bright light, my head pounding.

Where was I?

Who's house was that?

Did I know them?

I field stripped the cigarette and walked up to the door, knocking on it. I pressed the button and heard the doorbell ring.

There was a piece of wood attached next to the door.

"ENGLISH" it read.

My head was killing me.

I was stripped to the waist, wearing denim pants, desert combat boots, and a pair of dogtags.

Pru wouldn't like that. She didn't like when I wore my dogtags since I was put out.

I had spots in front of my eyes as I walked down the steps of the front porch, calling out to see if anyone was home.

Everything went sideways as my vision went white.