Who Am I

Chapter Two; Hello, I'm...

I'm sorry that a pre-written chapter took so long to get up(this is the second, and last, of the chapters the owner of this idea wrote). I'm going through some hard times and haven't been motivated, even just to hit the publish button.

"Call Owen." The doctor swept his eyes over the other two boys after giving the command before returning back to me. My muscles tensed, my eyes wide as fear swept through me.

"Who's Owen?" I asked, biting my lip.

Kota shared a look with Nathan before turning back to me, Nathan turning and pressing his cell phone against his ear. "He's a friend," Kota said, "but he's got some connections. We thought that he could help you. More than we could, anyway."

I snort, forcing my anxiety into amusement. There was obviously more to the story.

The doctor sat back, his finger extending to point to the wound that held most of the pain for me. "Pookie, I'm afraid you're going to need stitches."

I shrugged, unmoved. Stitches didn't mean much to me. "Can I do them myself?" My question was met with horror filled expressions that had my eyebrows furrowing. Was something wrong? "What?"

"You can't give yourself stitches!" Nathan exclaimed, putting his cell phone away. "Doctors do that!"

I furrowed my eyebrows even more as I bent slightly to examine the wound. I used my index finger to prod it. "Then.... then why do I know how to give stitches?"

I was met with silence as I straightened back up, the guys all staring at me. A knock sounded at the door towards teh friont of the house, drawing my attention as Nathan left the room. I stood up and grimaced as I felt my bones stretch before turning around to let the doctor look at my back.

"Jesus Christ," he muttered before he began working there as well. I stayed still for a moment, but spun around when I felt the air shift, my gaze connecting with a pair of steel eyes hidden behind black frames.

Something flashed across the newcomer's face before he blanked his expression, his eyes wandering over the clearly displayed wounds. I cocked my head to the side slightly, trailing over his charcoal suit and maroon tie.

"Hello Miss," he says, his voice as smooth and perfect as he looked. "I'm Owen Blackbourne." He took a step forward, holding up a hand, and I flinched back a step. I glanced down at my torso, covered only with an old sports bra, and vaguely wondered why I wasn't worried. Why wasn't I demanding a shirt?

"Hi. I'm..." I trailed off, biting my tongue as tears sprung to my eyes. I was... who was I? Why didn't I remember?!

I felt like I was watching from outside myself as I sank to my knees, a tugging at my ribs making me wince. I sobbed, choked strangled sobs that I could do nothing to stop. I couldn't remember anything- not a single thing about who I am or what I was. I could have children, a family, but instead I'm here, injured, in a stranger's home.

I raked my fingers through my hair, curling them into fists when they got stuck and tugged. A weight dropped on my arm and I jumped, my eyes, which I hadn't even realized I closed, opening. I looked up into molten silver eyes, feeling utterly broken. "I-I don't..." I choked on another sob. "Kn-know who I am..."

Owen nodded to me, reaching behind him before presenting a soft, white button-down. He handed it to me, my trembling fingers unsure in their grip as another sob wracked me. I had calmed slightly, the tears slowing, but I was terrified.

How do you forget who you are?

"Miss, is it okay if we let Doctor Green here finish? Once your wounds have been taken care of, we can start with age. It's a start to figuring out exactly who you are." His voice was soft, a strange tone coming from someone that looked like a polished diamond with eyes of steel.

I barely had the energy to nod as I leaned against Owen on shaky knees.