"Where am I? It sure stinks. I need to get home. But where is home?" I thought, as I yawned. I didn't want to open my eyes, I had a bad feeling that I wouldn't like what I saw.
And I was right. It turned out that my accommodations were a cardboard box, hidden in back of a dumpster. The dumpster was in a filthy alley. Carpeted with broken glass and splinters of wood from smashed pallets, this particular alley was a perfect hideaway. Nobody would dare to brave those hazards unless absolutely necessary.
I crawled out to greet the day, and was soon walking on a sidewalk. People in smart business attire stepped aside when I passed, and a lady with two small children crossed the road in heavy traffic when she saw me coming.
"I need to get home," I thought again. "That would be a lot easier if I could remember where it is - and who I am," I muttered, earning a wary glance from a middle aged man, as he switched his leather briefcase to his other hand.
It was an odd sensation. I could remember general knowledge, such as how to read, the names of objects, even popular sayings. But I couldn't remember anything about myself or my life.
I knew this was most likely a result of the rather large bump on my head, but I didn't remember how I got that either. "If only I had something on me to give me a clue," I mourned.
"Maybe if I walk around a while, I'll recognize something," I thought desperately. My stomach was rumbling, but I wasn't hungry.
"This is so unreal. I don't think I live on the streets. But how else did I end up in that cardboard box?" I wondered. Seeing a "Help Wanted" sign on the door of a small shoe store, I stopped.
"At least until I figure out where I belong, I need to earn some money, and get a place," I thought to myself. Knowing that I didn't have a chance in my current state, I went on.
"I need to find a bathroom and get cleaned up," I said to myself. Idly I wondered if I always talked to myself aloud.
Soon I located a fast food restaurant, and confidently entered. It was busy, one more customer wouldn't be noticed.
"Excuse me, but this is customers only," said a lady in the company's uniform, just as I was putting my hand on the restroom door.
"Please, I just need a few seconds," I pleaded.
"I'm sorry, but there are no exceptions," she replied firmly.
"Alright Ma'am, I'm sorry I bothered you," I said. Sighing, I left the building.
"Where can I get cleaned up?" I wondered.
"Maybe I should go to the hospital?" I think, wondering why I hadn't done that first.
The Stinkiest Weekend Ever
After trying to get directions from several pedestrians, I gave up and just kept walking. Then I saw a police officer.
"Excuse me, Sir. Could you please give me directions to the nearest hospital?" I asked.
"Sure. But if it's for rehab, they'll only take you if you're arrested and brought in. Would you like for me to take you?" he offered.
"Oh, it's nothing like that, I just need some help to get my memory back," I replied, then quickly explained the situation.
"They won't admit you unless you have ID," the officer said thoughtfully.
"If I had my ID I wouldn't need to go there. I'd just go home," I replied.
"Sort of a catch 22," the officer agreed.
"Do you have any suggestions? I have a lump on my head, and I don't know who I am," I said desperately.
"I don't know... I can take you in, but this is New York. Finding out who you are is sort of like finding a needle in a haystack," he replied doubtfully.
"Thank you. At least it would give me a chance, and I could get cleaned up," I accepted gratefully.
After six hours at the police station, I was no closer to knowing my identity. I left, at least knowing which city I was in. I had a general knowledge of it, but no personal memories.
"Central Park or the homeless shelter?" I wondered. The alley wasn't happening again, I couldn't live with the stench.
I opted for the shelter, and another officer helped direct me there. "At least I can shower before I go out, then maybe I'll find work," I thought with a little hope.
"Sorry, we're full. Come back earlier tomorrow," advised a large man, his face calm but determined. I sensed immediately that no exceptions would be made.
"Alright, thanks," I replied as I turned to leave.
Locating Central Park, I decided to avoid the benches. Instead I hid under some bushes. Just after dark, it began to rain. Instead of exposing myself to extra danger, I decided to stay put.
It was a cold, hard downpour. I didn't get any sleep. Cold, wet, and miserable, I waited until the grey dawn slowly began a new day. Then I stiffly got to my feet.
To get warm I began walking, then jogging as my muscles loosened up. "Is that the sun?" I asked, as the clouds parted, and the day began to heat up.
I stretched out on the soft grass and dozed. Maybe I did a little more than doze - I slept like a log actually. Until I heard something from far away.
"Hey, buddy! Are you alright? Hello?"
I struggled to wake up, my exhausted body fighting me every step of the way.
"Sorry. I'll go on in a minute," I said groggily.
" 
"I don't remember anything. I just want to know who I am, and where I belong," I said as relief flooded my entire body.
This is a work of fiction for [Week 122] Weekend-Engagement concept. But it could easily be any one of us, at any time. Please remember that the next time you see someone in need.
Cover image made in Canva using their gallery