Memories, lights, noise, and images flash through your mind.  Memories of earth, of writing, and even some you cannot recognize or even put a finger on as to what it could possibly be.

As you open your eyes, you realize that you're holding the knife you had killed yourself with and the rest of your belongings were where you had left them.  As you look around the area, you see dozens of large wooden crates strewn around a relatively dank room.  The smell of saltwater wafes through your nostrils, and a rather disgusting looking ladder is the "centerpiece" of the room.