"Oh! This is interesting... Junk! It's all useless trash."

I kept mumbling as I fidgeted with my recovered treasures. The thought of exposing my past left me questioning if my emotions would handle the truth. 

"Did I ever carry anything important?! By the looks of it, I seemed like a walking garbage bin with a handful of noteworthy knickknacks."

It appeared sassiness became my defense mechanism during moments of stress. At the moment, I craved to be sarcastic about my dire situation, but no one was around to bitch about my predicament.

"Argh! I'm just realizing all I found is rubbish. My only hope is this stupid cell."

More complaining demanded to blurt out of my mouth, but I stopped myself prior to getting too carried away.

I stared—really hard—at the haughty-looking apparatus dubbed a phone for quite some time before I reached for it. The blasted thing won over my willpower when I became curious about what secrets it held from me.

"You... spawn of the devil. You better contain some facts about my past. I must beat this memory loss, and you're the only item standing in my way to some very important information. By the way, this bling is annoying. It looks like I only cared about myself. Let's see..."

But my fortune was not that bright at the moment. An access pin screen greeted my investigative attempts, trumping all shots at gathering details of my life.

"Shit! I can't remember the code. Fuuuuck! Why can't I recall a thing? Did I smack my head that HARD?!"

Then, the silliness of my statement hit me silly in the face. I fell from the sky and struck my head on the ground. It didn't matter if I landed on the sand. 

My. Head. Took. A. Beating.

"I should be glad I didn't splatter all over the place."

The mumbling assertion didn't help in my predicament, though. I either needed to concentrate and pray if, by sheer stupid luck and utter stubbornness, the six-digit pin would pop into my head or...

I punch in random numbers until I figure out the code.

"Damn it! I can't go with the second option. I risk wiping the device with too many failed attempts. Then, I'll get no clues. Think! What can I do to unlock this dumb thing?" 

I stare at the cell, willing it to spill its secrets with pure stubborn willpower, but nothing happens. I didn't possess a single clue about how to overcome my current predicament. During a slight instance of weakness, tempted to smash my idiotic piece of demonic technology, I stopped and reconsidered. 

New strategy!

At that moment, the void of the unknown made me vulnerable.

Like sailing without a destination.

A futile endeavor.

I ought to tune my bearings before it gets too late. So, abandoning all previous hope that amounted to nothing, I set aside the phone to fetch the small purse. 

"Maybe I can salvage some information buried away inside that could help me. You never know what kind of hidden crap someone can find in these things. Man! I'm the master collector of trash. What use does a stinking gum wrapper have that needs folding and tucked into a pocket? I don't get it!"

It seemed my complaining became both empowered and unstoppable. With all traces of my memories gone, one factor remained true—clutter inundated my existence.

As I opened the expensive wallet to scour its content further, I quickly realized the phone might be a loss cause. A shadow of despair clouded my thinking as the possibility that my previous life would forever remain a mystery.

"Fuck this shit! I will not be a wussy and just belly up. I refuse to give up. Now, where can I find a clue to the code?"

Starting with the driver's license, I meticulously examined both sides, hoping to recognize any hints. My birthdate caught my attention, and an idea slapped me with ill-placed confidence.

Using such a blatant piece of information as a passkey seemed illogical, but I was desperate enough to try it. I pick up the cell to put my half-assed plan into motion.

"Let's start with my birthday. I know it's dumb to use that as my pin, but it's worth the shot."

As I punched in the code, the hellish apparatus denied me entrance to my own domains. Once more, I reeled in my desire to smash the phone and end my misery, but I stilled. I needed to calm my unruly mind and exercise patience to accomplish my desires and live through the day.

"Maybe if I try the date with the year first."

Again, I entered the numbers, this time with the year first.

But, nada...

The ostentatious device from hell refused me—again. My muddled thoughts filled with desperation as something so innocent-looking held my life in its tiny little circuits. I tried a different way to enter the date, but it resulted in yet another failed attempt.

Mission Failed!

"This is getting me nowhere. I need something else—something with more substance. Time for a change of plans!"

Nothing seemed to hold any significance as I sifted through my credit cards.

"Mierda, carajo! This is useless."

The frustrated mutter escaped my lips unrestrained and unfiltered—an unchecked remark that carried greater value than the plastic taking up space in my belongings. From the start, their uselessness became apparent. Using arbitrary numbers sounded like the worst idea ever, so I skipped those. 

"No point in even bothering with those."

Then, as luck reared its curious head, I opened the coin compartment. Rather than coins, I discovered a treasure trove of brief memos. Like a pirate salivating for its booty, I admired my stash—my raison d'être. 

However, as it may seem, hope surged through my veins, heating my core in a weird turn of affairs. In my feeble attempt to appease my raging libido, I squeezed my legs shut but rubbed my precious nether bud instead in a delicious, unintentional caress.

"Why am I getting so hung up and horny over notes?! Fuck, I'm a to-list junkie, am I?! It's just a piece of paper and scribbles. Nothing else... Geez! Calm down, Kayla, get over it."

I allowed a few seconds to settle my frayed nerves with a careful inhale and exhale. A pleasant mantle of calmness blanketed my thoughts while cold tentacles of composure spread their frigid finger down my spine. My mind felt empty but ready.

Like a hawk, I scanned each note's contents, ensuring I didn't miss a single bit of useful information. I found a lot of digits, like phone numbers and dates, but nothing meaningful or attention-grabbing.

Suddenly, the startle of my life shook me to the core. My heart skipped a beat as a loud shriek pierced through the air, leaving a stormy ringing in my ear.

Out of pure panic, I huddled closer to the bolder and made myself smaller. The wailing seemed to last an eternity, and at some point, I screamed along. Frustration ripped off my chest as tears streaked down my face. Desperation consumed me as I covered my ears while the screaming persisted.

I will not survive the night if I don't find shelter. Coño, maldita sea!

The shrieking pierced through the air, blending with my despair to create a cacophony symphony of agony. A few minutes later, my raw voice gave up as the screams continued—unchallenged. Left with no other choice, I waited as I let the screech take the lead on its goal. Its purpose: to scare the crap out of me.

Then, as soon as it started, all went still. The sudden silence that followed allowed me to recover—somewhat. Trembling, I dared a quick look to check my surroundings.

"Fuck, I must find a shelter... now. I don't want to die again and end up in a place worse than this."

Hesitation slowed my progress, so I stood and looked about. The plains seemed deserted but with plenty of unobstructed space. I stood out from afar—an easy target to pick for anyone, anything searching for blood.

"Ok! After I'm safe, I'll crack this phone. But where can I hide? There's nothing around..."

Before daring the open space, I looked about to make sure I was still alone. Not a single soul in sight for miles. Fortune still smiled down at me. Standing on shaky legs, I trekked down the sandy hill. After almost tripping several times, I made it to the bottom.

I prepared to plant an indebted kiss on the ground, but the lingering, gritty sensation of sand in my mouth halted my gesture of appreciation.

Although relieved to land on a solid floor, I desperately needed a hiding spot. I twisted and turned, spinning in circles as my head filled with dread. The place was barren—only grainy and annoying red desert!

"Fuck! Can I just get a break? I just need shelter. That's all! I want a..."

Just when I was about to give up, I spotted a ledge poking from the ground.

And the best part...

The place seemed hard to spot and not far away from where I stood

"Perfect! I can hide there."

Lunging my bag over my shoulder, I took one step, then another. 

But then I stopped. 

"What if there's something dangerous living there?!"

I strained my eyes for a better look, doubting my decision. But with the sudden burst of doubt came a daring impulse to survive. Planning became overrated and long overdue. A seething anger started from the pit of my stomach and boiled its way up to my head. Purpose clamped my head with a vise-like determination as one foot moved forward and the other followed.

"I'm claiming that place on my own. I'm done being a sissy."

The sheer perseverance gave me a pep as I ran, tripping once every few steps as I made my way to my new haven.