Preface

Preface:

My eyes flickered open. I looked at the ceiling. White tiles, a black vent, and a grey fan. I sat up in bed. There was a pain in my head. I looked over at my arm, and saw a needle and tube sticking out of it. I followed the tube, and saw a bag of fluid dripping into it. An IV. I was in a hospital. The door opened, and I jumped. There was a man in a white coat, a doctor. He came up to me.

"Good morning," he said cheerfully. I didn't answer him. "I'm here to check your vitals today. It's not everyday that someone gets shot in the head and survives." Shot in the head?!

"What do you mean, "shot in the head," I asked him. He just looks at me.

"Do you not remember?" he says. "Do you remember your name, or age, or anything?" I just stare at him. Of course I know my name, and age. Who wouldn't?

"Of course I remember," I said, annoyed. "My name is… my… my name is…." I knew I had one, but every time I tried remember it seemed to slip away from my grasp like wet soap as soon as you grab it.

"Well, any way, I know my age, I'm… wait a second, I'm… I'm…." Wait. How do I not know my name or age? Who am I? Where am I?

"You don't know?" he asked. I was still trying to remember. Who am I? He wrote some stuff down on his clipboard, then got up, slid the door open, and left. I pressed a button on the arm of my bed that made it come up into sitting position. I leaned back and thought. Suddenly, I felt ill at ease. I don't even know what I look like. My room had a bathroom in it, so I got up, even though I was a little dizzy, and went to the mirror. I looked in the mirror, but looking back at me was a stranger. Who is that? Is that… me? The girl staring back at me looked no more than 20. She was pretty, but looked very somber. She had long brown hair that curled and fell past her waist. She had a heart shaped face, and straight facial features. Well maybe I should say, I. I have a straight nose, and large eyes. My eye color is green blue, with shimmers. My skin tone is in between pale and tan, I guess you could say "fair." I had a slim figure, but this hospital gown was not very flattering. I guess you could say I was what you would consider as "beautiful," but this term makes it seem like I am vain. I am not. However, I did stand in the mirror for a good thirty minutes, inspecting and scrutinizing this face of mine. I liked it, but it didn't feel like mine. It was like a stranger's, who used to live in this body. It was not mine, but I would have to borrow it for the time being.

Everyday, I wake up to the same thing. Cold air blowing in my face. My eyes blink open. I rub my eyes, and look at the ceiling. I see the same grey fan, and same black vent. I have already been at this hospital for 3 months. I wake up, eat, watch TV, and sleep. I have countless doctors trying to help me remember everything, but nothing is coming back. The doctors say that I have to leave the hospital so that other patients can be here, but I have nowhere to go. I've been waiting for some I knew to come get me, or just someone who recognized me. No one has come though.

I think about my situation a lot nowadays. I used to feel sorry for myself, and I would sit in my room, pitying myself. I have no one, and nothing, and I knew that no one was coming for me. Now, I just think about how I can get out of this place. The doctors told me that they would help me get an identity. I'm going to the courthouse with them tomorrow to get a name. I think that Maria Rose Blueross would work for me, so that will be my name.