You repeat your question: What happened?
Angry at her seemingly purposeful ignorance of your question, you
lividly bombard her with questions because of your own fear and
confusion.
"What happened to me; did you see anything? What was I doing;
where am I? How did I get here . . .? When -"
The girl cuts you off, clicking her tongue in disapproval.
"You can't remember anything?"
You notice that she is wearing rough jeans and a thick brown sweater,
which matches her long brown hair.
You are about to reply that you do not remember anything in the least
when she interrupts you.
"All right, at least you can tell me that you remember your own
name."
