I'd most likely become the common thief, pillaging from homes during the day, and from restaurants during the night, until I had enough money to buy dark clothing. Then, my thieving skills would increase, until I had enough money to buy pieces of looseleaf in the local 99 cent store. Then, I'd draw pictures, assuming I haven't lost my art ability, hoping for people to see them. I'd begin drawing people's faces in the street, gradually gaining money.
At this point in my life, I'd probably be homeless. Hopefully, I'd wouldn't be in a area that continually had cold weather. If so, I'd most likely steal a jacket from a homeless person, and would use this as clothing for the time-being. I would continue my face drawing career, gradually making the faces more detailed. Soon enough, I'd buy a guitar with the money I had saved [ excluding food costs ]. I would begin making music, now using the papers I had bought as lyric sheets. I'd begin singing short, love songs, collecting money at subway stations. Gradually, I'd relocate myself to the entrances of buildings, hoping to attract someone interested. Hopefully, someone would gain attention of my singing and/or artist building, and offer me a chance in a studio and/or art showings. I would then save my money to buy a suit, then go to the meeting. My art and/or music would most likely interest some viewers, and I might be asked to make a record [ I'd probably figure that art wasn't the smartest way to make a living. ]. If not, I'd be back on the street.
1. If I made it..
I'd continue my music career, most likely making only a one-hit single. At this time, I'd probably be generating enough money to rent out a one-room apartment. If I didn't, I'd at least access a computer, trying to receive my resume off my college's website [ depending on how old I am ]. I'd most likely be able to receive it, where I'd apply for the US Air Force [ which I'm planning on joining in real life ]. I'd join that, staying in there for a couple of years, then most likely apply for a commercial pilot. One night, I'd see a bar, and go in for a couple of drinks. I'd see a cute brunette in the corner smiling my way, and I'd buy her a drink. We'd hit it off, and have ourselves a "good night." In the morning, I'd call her, and in the following weeks, I'd begin taking her on dates. We'd begin dating and I'd eventually propose.
1a. She says yes.
At this point in my life, I'd realize that my parents wouldn't be joining us at the wedding. I'd begin searching for them on the internet, using any remnants of them I had in my memory as material for the search. The detective would find them, only to find they are dead, alongside with any traces of my friends, or family. My whole town would most likely be destroyed, due to some sort of extreme fire, or abandonment. The distress would tear me apart, destroying all traces of sanity I had stored up since that dreadful night I woke up in the strange place, only in a T-shirt and jeans. My fiance would attempt to soothe me, only to have me violently abusing her if she got too close. She'd flee to her family, leaving me in the same solitude I had when this story began. My house would become a mess, broken dishes and torn pillows everywhere, all results of the information learned of my perished family. Suicidal thoughts might cross my mind, but logic would obviously erase those quickly. My job would become a thought only located in the back of my mind, until the day came when my employer called to check on me. A therapist would be assigned to me, leaving me unable to fly planes for a short amount of time. Disability? Mental distress. A few months to myself, leaving me alone yet again, my mind being the only enemy.
Paranoia. Sleep deprivation. I had lost everything that I had achieved from NOTHING. All was lost, and I was the same young boy I had been not too long ago. Slowly, my mind would become sane again, no doubt because of the medication I had been assigned. My fiance and her family would be long gone however, leaving me a single man. I'd go out and buy a video game system to keep myself occupied during my break from work, the returning once my next meeting with the therapist was established.
My job, the familiar workspace, the familiar feeling of take-off. Slowly, but surely, but life would come back to order from the loss of everything I once knew, allowing me to start over yet again. I would have everything in control yet again, and I would know what to do. One night, I'd go to the local electronics store, and buy a laptop.
And then I'd post it on Newgrounds. Obviously.
