I awoke to silence. I groaned and rolled off the mattress I was laying on, the only comfortable thing in my room in my house- it's not really a house though, more a room- and made my way to the door, it was the first of May, which meant a large box filled with supplies arrived on my doorstep out of the nothingness that surrounded my room. I opened the box, expecting to see the usual: canned food, water, cereal, fresh fruit, toilet roll, shampoo and potatoes but instead was greeted with a compass, green hair dye, extra water, a bracelet with my name spelled out on it and a letter. I was relieved to see the usual supplies beneath.

I opened the letter and started to read:

'Sam Taylor,

I hope this letter arrives to you in good health, as well as everything else we sent, I should introduce myself, I am someone from your past, from before most of humanity was locked away in those little boxes to be 'protected' from the virus that plagued earth 10 years ago.' I frowned. Who was this person and how do they know who I am? I have no memories from before this place, I just assumed that I was born here- I read on, curious as to who this mysterious person and the virus they spoke of was. 'You are actually in a huge building that covers the majority of what once was Spain. Anyone that goes outside will most likely be killed by the air pollution if the virus doesn't kill you immediately. However, we can get you out of there and you can be free of the box that has trapped you for a decade. I am Swift Taylor,  one of the few left for dead after being diagnosed with the virus, I survived and left Europe to join the few survivors in the US. We can help you if you let us. On the back is a map, change your appearance as much as possible before taking the contents of this box and follow the map, use the compass. I have to leave but follow the instructions to a t.'

I was silent. How was I supposed to respond to that? I was just told that my whole childhood was a lie and I lived outside my room until I was thirteen- I grabbed the bracelet and  studied it: it was knotted string or rope with beads spelling out 'Sam Taylor' it looked old and worn, as if I had it before I came here, I slipped it on and gasped as my vision turned black and voices and flashes of memories came rushing into my mind:

'Unhand her villain!'
'Never!'
'...' 
'Fine...'
'That's the last time I'm letting you play with Mrs Fluffybottom!'

That was me and someone else...

'Mom can I cut my hair?'
'Honey don't you like your long hair?'
'No! It's too girly and I'm not a girl!'
'Baby of course your a girl! I think I'd know since I gave birth to you!' The older woman laughed.
'No, mom I'm not a girl!'
*slap*
'YOUR NOT ONE OF THOSE DISGUSTING  THINGS!'

I gasped, blinking back into the present in horror- was this horrible person really my mother?

Right- the dye I wondered why I had to change my appearance, I guess they wouldn't expect anyone change appearance much in my small room with nothing to change it with.  I got to work In the small mirror until I was satisfied with the forest green colour the top of my hair was. I examined myself in the mirror:
dirty blonde hair cropped close to my head, longer and a deep green on the top. Moving down, my eyes were hazel, streaked with the same green as my hair. My features were round and my face was sprinkled with freckles. I looked away. I didn't like the way I looked but I knew I couldn't change it. I looked down at my pyjamas and sighed, I forgot to get dressed before I brought the supplies in then was distracted by the letter and everything else.

I got dressed in a black pullover hoodie with the word 'sleep' in a white box in the front and blue ripped jeans with my worn black combat boots before packing a bag with food, water, the compass, and a change of clothes. I grabbed the letter and slipped on the bag before stepping out the door into the darkness outside.

Thinking back- this isn't the response most people would have to this letter but I guess I fell into a sort of trance- I felt a sort of numbness that lasted till I was far away from home.