[Warning: graphic gore]
"For what it's worth, I'm sorry I tried to shoot you," Victoria spoke gently after a long period of silence. She'd brought me to sit on the guest bed, waiting patiently for me to snap out of my trance. I had been trying to rearrange all these newfound fragmental memories into a more linear pattern, mostly unsuccessfully.
I shouldn't have this problem. System should be here, helping me sort the memories so it was like watching a movie before consciousness. Not scattered so bad I had to fight mentally just to retain them.
I waved my hand dismissively, "I don't blame you, I should be dead."
Her eyes nervously glanced at the door at my words, "they'll start to worry soon, you ready to go back?"
I nodded, standing up to feel more self-conscious at my nipples poking through the thin fabric. It was the middle of winter, and though not as cold as the last country I'd lived in, it was cold enough.
