47*15=? It is a painstakingly maddening process for a grasp on what you have learned to slip away from you. Understanding less and less about the world each day. Forgetting everything as though you never knew how to do it, but you knew you could.

Frustration was my only companion. I could no longer see my surroundings, no longer able to hear the sounds that are normally taken for granted. The sound of birds. The wind rustling the leaves on the trees. All that was left was the darkest of voids. I had no idea of how much time had passed or even where I was. Gradually, the hopeless dark faded into unfamiliar surroundings. My memories slowly returned, and I was once again back to my usual self, except I wasn't. Something was different, but at that moment I could not work out what it was.

I took in my surroundings - a dimly lit, cluttered garage that looked as though it had never been tidy. On one wall, to the left of me, were wooden shelves covered in clutter. In a corner, a couple of spare tyres were leaned against the wall, with some tools balanced precariously on them. Large cobwebs hung from the ceiling like paperchains at a party, and a dusty space-hopper sat near the door, a slightly deflated balloon. It was kind of fitting really. Today, five years ago… never mind.

I switched my scanner off and turned on the radio, to play some music. I needed to disrupt the quiet. Soft notes echoed around the garage creating an air of serenity. Click. The noise echoed through the garage. Unsure of the cause, I flicked on my scanner and allowed the yellow light to track lazily back and forth.

Creaking, the wooden door opened slowly, daylight cutting through the gloom of the garage and casting strange shadows on the walls. In the doorway, stood a woman no older than her early twenties. Her hair was up in a dishevelled ponytail, and a slight smile was apparent on her face. It took me a moment to realise why. The woman's eyes were fixed on my scanner. As soon as I had come to this conclusion, I switched it off, the yellow light fading to nothing. "Hello," she said cheerfully. I didn't respond. I had no recollection of this person, and I found it difficult to trust people, and I didn't let people close. It was easier that way. "I know you can hear me, so you might as well say hi," she continued.

When her statement had once again been met with silence, she spoke again, unfazed. "I'm Jessica," she told me. She sat down in front of me on the floor. She was too trusting; she didn't even know me. "I found you, pieces of you, scattered in the sand two months ago, and I've been working on fixing you ever since." She paused for a second. "It's strange… I know so much about you, yet I know nothing. I know how the circuits work, the code. But I don't know you. Your personality… I don't even know your name."

The garage returned to silence again as she stopped talking. Presumably thinking about what she had just said. After a few seconds, I decided to provide the answer to one of her questions. "I am the Knight Automated Roving Robot."

AN: What do you think? Please leave a review, and let me know of any improvements I can make to my writing. Constructive criticism is appreciated. :-)