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chapter one
People were yelling outside my door, it tended to happen at least once a day since I'd woken up. No one would tell me why, no one would tell me anything to be completely honest. The yelling would stop and then in...
Three...
Two...
One...
The woman would come in, smiling, acting as if nothing was wrong. No, not just the woman. Christina. My guardian, my family, the woman who would be taking me home in a few days if I could keep it together. And I had to get out of here. Just under three weeks was too long to be in a hospital for, not when there was nothing physically wrong with me. So I had to keep it together.
Christina was my guardian. She took care of me. Irving was Christina's son, so unofficially... My brother? They were taking me home. They were my family.
There were so many questions I wanted answered, so many inconsistencies with what I had been told. So many scars littered my body, some fresh and some that seemed years old. What had happened to me that had affected me so much that I had lost myself completely. That was the one thing you were meant to be sure of. Yourself. Your identity. Your name. Yet here I was, constantly forgetting to respond when someone calls my name.
"Sweetheart, are you okay? You're looking troubled" Christina questions, her concern furrowing her eyebrows. "Do you want to speak with Madam Grimworth?"
Madam Grimworth. Even the mere mention of her name made me cringe. She was a short, grey -haired, falsely cheerful, woman. She was the reason I was still in this godforsaken hospital. Every other of my healers had signed my release papers, but the damned woman had it in her head that I wasn't 'mentally well enough' to leave. She made me sit with her once a day and discuss my feelings about my memory loss. It sucked. Of course it sucked. But sitting in a hospital watching the same white walls for the rest of my life wasn't going to help my memories return. Irving called her my shrink. Apparently, it was a muggle thing. (Muggle, a non-magical person. I was a witch. At least, that was what they told me. Had I performed magic at all, no.) Either way I didn't care what she was called, I needed out of this bed.
"I'm okay, just ready to get out of here." I do my best to smile at her, despite the frustration that's slowly building.
"I know Elora," She sighed. Elora, that was me. "The healers are just being cautious. You were asleep for so long, nearly a month, for no reason. Sweetheart, they just want to be sure your memory loss doesn't have some easy fix that they're missing."
"When in my life have things ever been easy," I saw, rolling my eyes and slouching further down in the bed. Christina turns to me with eyes wide, a question on her tongue. "Not that I know for sure, I just... assumed." I wave my hand at her, the palm facing myself and the back facing her with the words 'I will not break school decrees' glaring up at her. It was the first scar I had found and it made me wonder, was I really the type to break school rules? And what sort of barbaric school did I attend that allowed students to be punished by carving lines into their skin. Irving had told me about the school. Hogwarts he had called it. He had said it was magical, a brilliant school where people learnt magic and went on fantastical adventures. It sounded questionable to me when I stared down at the scar.
