world inside the wall

Landed

I wake up on a patch of wet grass. I can hear birds chirping and wind rustling the leaves. It smells beautiful, like newly cut flowers. My head aches, but not as much as before. Before what? I want to just lay here, and feel the damp grass beneath me, hear the beautiful songs of the birds. I open my eyes, causing my head to ache even more. I’m staring at the sun, bright and burning my eyes. I close them again, as pieces of light dances behind my eyelids.
I sit up, and instantly groan. My whole body aches almost as much as my head. It feels as if an elephant was sitting on me. It would be easier to move if I was buried alive. I feel numb so I test my arms and legs, making sure they’re still there. And they are. I just want to plop back down on the grass and lay there. I open my eyes again. It’s easier this time, since I’m not looking directly into the blazing sun.
I gasp. I’m staring at a beautiful forest, where the sun hits the trees and plants so perfectly that it casts a green glow on the ground below. Wildflowers are in bloom at the thick bases of trees. Ferns grow in sunny patches of light where a gap in the green canopy made by leaves lets sunlight escape onto the forest floor. I see birds flying in and around the trees and squirrels playing and chasing each other. There are clouds in the sky, big, puffy ones that are whiter than newly fallen snow.
But that’s not what catches me off guard. Behind the forest is a huge wall, about forty feet tall. The wall is made of a pale cement with cracks and small whole littering the sides. Sitting on top of the wall, each fifty feet apart, sat huge poles, much like telephone poles. The poles reach nearly another hundred feet into the air. They’re made of metal, a bright silver that reflects sunlight into my eyes.  Wires are strung between the poles, making the look even more like telephone poles. But they’re not telephone poles. I don’t know how I can tell, they just look different in some way. I can’t really explain it.
I stand up, body groaning and stretching, as if I haven’t stood up and a decade. I arch and massage my back, trying to work out he knots. I flex my fingers and shake them out, along with my feet and legs. I’m trying to get feeling back into them, and it’s not really working. As I look down the wall, trying to see an end. I begin to realize, with horror, that the wall doesn’t end. It goes in a complete circle, entrapping me inside. I am trapped.
As I complete a half turn, I notice a small town just about half a mile away. No, not a town. More like a village. It’s very small, with no tall building and only a few big houses. The big houses look more like barns, and all the other buildings and very small, one-to-two-people-houses. The town looks small, like only about a hundred people live there. I look past it, staring at the wall on the other side. It seems at though the town is in the very center of the circle. With the forest surrounding the town, and the wall surrounding the forest.
Is that where I live? I panic, realizing that I don’t know where I live. I can’t remember anything about my family or life before I woke up here. No, that’s not true. I remember a falling sensation, then a splitting headache, and passing out only to wake up here. I can remember everything I’ve ever learned, but I can’t remember where or who I learned it from. All I can remember from my past is my name; Alexis Bullen.
        I squeeze my eyes shut, and hold my head in my hands, trying to remember something, anything else. I can’t, and it only worsens my headache to try. I drop to my knees, defeated, alone, and scared.