The first thing that registered when I opened my eyes was the smoldering landscape and the burning in my lungs. The dizzying disorientation teetered on the verge of gagging as I reeled from the debilitating pain coursing through my body.

"Shit, I can't believe I survived that fall! All I remember is falling like a sack of hot potatoes when I woke up mid-air."

I mumbled as I sat on my sore ass, trying to gauge my injuries. I first focused on making sure my extremities stood in good working order. Balling my wrist, I checked every single tiny bone to ensure nothing hurt or shifted in a funny way. 

After releasing a pent-up yet invigorating puff of breath—after confirming my hands remained intact—I inspected my forearms for any damage. Satisfied with the state of my arms, I moved to my legs. While rolling my ankles, I probed my lower limbs for any broken bones.

"Either I'm made of rubber... or my boobs dampened my landing... or landed on something soft?!"

Not long after, I spotted the obnoxious human tracks down a sandy hill. The lifeless trees and charred terrain harshly embraced my awareness.

"I'm glad that mound helped me cushion my fall. But holy shit! My face's on fire. At least I broke nothing but a sprain... that's a whole different story. I can't check that?! I'm fucked if I'm not careful."

My all-consuming mussing distracted me from my misery, so I stuck a dirty finger in my mouth and checked my chompers and every nook and cranny of my mouth. A soothing exhale escaped my lips, and I thanked my lucky stars for having all my pearly whites intact.

Other than some minor cuts and the feverish contusion on my left cheek, I was somewhat... okay.

"I think I'm good for now, but I need to get my bearings and..."

The realization loomed over me like the sun on a desert as I stared at what used to be an outfit. 

Sure! 

I was quote-on-quote 'fine,' but my clothes were not. 

"Fuck! What remains hardly covers my boobs and crotch?! Did I fall from space or something?! There's no other reason for them to be scorched to smithereens. This..."

Cough, cough!

The head of the blistering flames parched my throat as a violent fit of coughing. The sulfuric landscape became a devastating murk for my poor lungs as each spasm increased in intensity.

Desperately searching for a vigorous inhale, I scoured my surroundings for a whiff of clean air. But then sinister whispers carried by the scorching winds forced a pause to my tortured spasms.

I hurried behind a boulder as the ground trembled beneath my feet. Shadows converged around me as a gray cloud moved closer to the spot.

Then, a deafening exploding consumed my reality as I covered my ears and huddled, making myself a smaller target.

It didn't take long before a torrent of scalding pebbles pelted my flesh and singed my scant clothing. 

"Maybe this is how my clothes became ruined. But... wait?! My skin didn't blister at all. Interesting!"

Although filthy as heck, my body remained flawless, unmarred by the heated natural disaster.

"Who am I?!"

Lightheadedness plugged right into my vision as vertigo kicked in full force. No matter how hard I tried to remain calm, panic clogged my throat as I attempted to make sense of my current predicament.

Then...

My perception unraveled before me! I possessed no memory of my life. "What the fuck?! I can't think straight now?! Stinking shit!"

No time to entertain modesty. Perhaps showing more tits and ass than I care to deem acceptable. I crawled everywhere, looking for any clues of my identity. 

"Now, I'm pissed. How the hell did I get here?! I can't believe I just woke up in this hell! Damn it... I ought to find a way out of this mess."

Twisting and turning, I spotted nothing that could help. 

"Puñeta, that's right!"

A sense of accomplishment set my heart on a gallop as I looked up at the dune.

"My body tumbled down, so my stuff must be just over that mound."

A triumphant elation propelled my steps as I started my unsteady climb. On my hands and knees, I slithered up the unstable hill, my progress similar to that of a snail, but after many slip-and-slide attempts, I reached the top.

"Fuck yeah! I found a bag. Huston, I found a stupid bag."

I fumbled to my feet, but my torso ignored my walking commands as I lunged forward and landed head-first in the same crater I crashed into. With sand shoved all the way down my mouth and nose, I experienced a close encounter with the sandy delight of this place—wherever it was.

And it was nasty!

Not even the word foul came near to describing the offensive quality invading my chops. I found it intriguing that my gag reflexes refused to make any sudden move to dislodge my last meal. 

Oh! But my gut insisted on punishing flips and flops on whatever my belly held inside.

Cough, cough!

My desperate attempt to force out the grainy annoyance from my windpipe turned into a mad dash to inhale and not blow chunks at the same time.

Cough, cough!

Ultimately, I savored the precious air filling my starving lungs—although the still rancid stench made my stomach lunge and heave with displeasure. With an excessive gritty crap down my gullet, I thanked my lucky stars that dizziness flooded my mouth with much-needed slobber.

As I doubled over, my body writhed and convulsed as I tried to purge as much sand as possible. 

With my ass standing high in the heavens and looking ready to be humped by anyone. My perverted mating calls for breath echoed through the sky, inviting danger to come and play.

The coughing and spitting contributed to my indecent display of my southern regions and a sight to behold to anyone with the guts to look. My well-groomed bronzed petals, barely contained by my synched clothes, stood at attention as my back arched for an unintentional invitation.

Maldita sea! Carajo! I need some fucking water.

My brain chanted a pitiful plea to the rest of my body to stop this nonsense. My lungs refused to acknowledge my dire situation as they continued to do their own will. 

Only after a long and insufferable fit of unladylike behavior did my windpipes clear the grainy gunk. As I settled for deep gulps of air, I searched my surroundings. 

"EUREKA! There's my bag."

A shower of gritty spit rained on my face as I dived—narrowly missing another sand munching—for the designer backpack. In a curious turn of events, the pack appeared intact. Untouched by the scorching kisses of fire.

"Oh, I'm glad you're okay."

A bulge pressed against my breast, filling me with wetting excitement. My mouth went dry with expectation as I reached for the stone-hard girth of my massive...

Water bottle.

Thirsting for the metal shaft, I shoved the tip past my wanton lips and took a small sip.

"Shit, that's good."

I chanted as a euphoric shiver fluttered through my body. 

However, lusting after water wouldn't produce any solutions. My memory loss and forgotten identity compelled me to seek an explanation.

As I scanned through the jumble of things strewn about, I realized something. The answers to my questions lay within my grasp. All I needed to do was reach for them.

While I scrambled through the stuff, a pink monogrammed wallet drew my attention.

"Fuck, yeah!"

An unhinged laughter ripped through my throat and reverberated through the area. I transformed into a wailing banshee, announcing my victory over an uncanny foe—finding a clue of my past.

Before opening the wallet, I paused. Hesitation invaded my mind as I was about to expose its contents.

"I feel nervous. What will I find?"

The questions about myself surrounded my thoughts as my trembling fingers unclasped the tiny belt to reveal a driver's license tucked in its holder.

"Kayla Rodriguez-Anderson..."

I scanned the rest of the card for more details.

"Utah! I... live in Utah?!"

My unrecognizable croak reverberated all around me as I continued absorbing the little information on the identification. Besides the overkill amount of exclusive credit cards, the wallet left much to be desired. As I looked around, I discovered more scattered things that could be important.

On my hands and knees—showing my ass and my not-well-covered lady parts for sure—I hurried away, placing my dirty claws on whatever I could find.

After my desperate scavenger hunt, I examined my gathered treasure for more clues. I spotted a shaded spot behind a boulder to escape the punishing desert-like heat. I planted my sweet, round bootie on the hot surface.

"Argh! Sand is getting in my crack," I moaned at the rough texture on my delicates—like it wanted to be a part of me.

My findings:

A Puerto Rican birth certificate.

One baggage claim receipt.

A pretentious-looking cellphone.

And a crapload of unimportant rubbish.

I dump all the worthless stuff in my bag, not bothering with it, as I spread my treasures before me. Hoping to find more information on the pompous phone, I go for it first.

"Oh! This is interesting..."