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The first thing I notice is a weird sensation of constant rocking. Nothing else matters to me. Back and forth, back and forth. It's like my anchor to reality because it's the only thing I know that will happen. It's somewhat peaceful. Sadly, all good dreams must come to an end, but that wasn't a dream. It's actually happening to me.

My eyes are still heavy from my drug induced slumber. I'm glad I don't have to look though. At least I don't have to know what my prison looks like. My nose burns every time I breathe through it. It's probably from the chemical Chris gave me. Chloroform, I think.

Even though I'm regaining consciousness, I don't want to wake up. It's like waking up in to a nightmare. The worst part is, I don't know where I am, or where Chris is. He could be watching me. I shiver slightly at the thought.

I don't move for what feels like forever. It was probably only an hour though. I'm suddenly tired of not knowing, how am I supposed to fight when I don't know where I am?

I open my eyes to a bright white light overhead of me. I squint but refuse to close my eyes, they need to adjust. When the fogginess clears and I can tell it's just a regular light and oval shade, I take in the rest of the room. It's not small, but it isn't exactly big either. A king sized bed with cream colored sheets sits against the far back wall, which is what I'm laying on. There is about six feet of moving room on either side of it. I can't see any windows, so if there are any they are behind my head. White dressers rise up from the hardwood floor on the opposite side of the room. They guard a doorway, probably the way of getting in here. On the left side of the bed is another door. The bathroom I'm guessing. There really isn't much to look at, white walls, ceiling, and an amber colored wood floor.

I rise in to a sitting position and notice something very quickly. I'm no longer wearing my white blouse and black skirt, instead I'm in a deep purple evening gown with a neckline to low for my tastes. I hug myself trying to hide my exposed body. How am I supposed to run in this? It goes down to my feet and hugs my body not giving to much wiggle room. I'll just have to hope Matt finds me-

That's when I start crying. I'm an awful girlfriend, no, was. I forgot everything that happened to him, and it happened because of me. He wasted his life on me and I'm not even grateful enough remember him. Chris deserves me, everyone else is to good for me.

I don't even try to quiet my sobs. I hear the door open and I look away expecting Chris to be there. He's probably rejoicing in my cries for Matt. And Ryan, I guess he got forgotten. I didn't even remember him and how he was shot until now. I guess I can't have friends either because I forget them like trash when things get rough.

"Please, don't cry," A voice says softly. The first thing I notice is that it's feminine, not Chris's deep voice like I was expecting. Next is that she sounded genuinely sorry for me. I look up through my puffy eyes and see a woman who looks to be about thirty. Her light brown hair is in a pixie cut and that really brings out her dark brown eyes and high cheekbones. I'm usually not a fan of pixie cuts but it looks beautiful on her. Then I notice another thing, she's not alone. A little girl, about five, I would guess, is peering out from behind her. She has wide brown eyes and her hair is a darker shade of brown, and she looks confused.

"Mommy, why is she crying?" The little girl asks.

"Shhh," her Mom says sweetly, "How about you go to your room?"

"But I want to see Morgan," she whines.

"Kara," she scolds, "Go."

"Ok," she pouts and walks out of the room.

The mother sighs when her daughter is gone, and then looks at me. Who is she? "Well I would say it's nice to finally meet you, but I guess the circumstances aren't the greatest." She sounds nice and caring, but I still don't trust her. How did her daughter know my name? And what does she mean by finally? How long have I been out? And where is Chris? So many questions are running through my mind but I don't have any answers.

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