Parish: Killing Me Slowly

Chapter 12

Again, same with this one. If I put Annabelle on accident, I meant Leigh and if I put Miranda, I meant Amanda. sorry again!

Chapter Twelve

I look at my brother for a moment, studying his features. Shock is written clearly on his face but there's a deeper emotion hidden somewhere. Worry? Fear? I can't quite place it and it scares me a little.

"I-I'm sorry. Should I know them?" I feel my eyebrows knit together in concentration as I try hard to think of who these people might be.

They certainly look like people I would be friends with. It's possible I could even crush on the boy. He's cute enough and the girl seems like we could be best friends someday, but I'm not still not sure. If they know me, shouldn't I know them? Right now, I have no clue.

I turn to Greg. "Why do they know me? How come I don't know who they are?" My voice is desperate and I grab onto Greg's arm.

"Leigh, calm down." He sits on the bed next to me and pulls me into his arms. I rest my head against his shoulder like I've done so many times before. "First I need to ask you a few questions."

I nod my head weakly, afraid that I may not be able to answer them.

"Alright. First question. What's the last thing you remember?" My eyebrows furrow and I think about his question for a minute.

The last thing I remember? Greg was holding my wrist and looking at my cheek where my father cut me with his ring. He was furious that my father could do something like this. The next day...

Oh! I remember. I went to school and everyone was asking me how I got my cut and Miranda...

Oh my gosh!

"Amanda!" I shout and leap out of Greg's arms and into Amanda's, no matter how much pain it causes me I want her to know I remember her. "I can't believe I forgot who you were! I'm such a bad friend!"

Tears stream from my eyes and she hugs me gently. I cringe and she takes me back over to the bed and sets me down. She takes the place near my feet like we always used to do when we would get ready to spill about our days or talk about boys or just plain talk.

"Leigh it's okay!" She laughs a little but I know it's forced. I look down, ashamed of myself.

"All I can remember is the day after dad gave me the cut on my face. Everyone kept asking why it was there and I told them I..." I pause for a moment, thinking. "That I fell in the street?" I nod as if to assure myself that's the right reason.

"What else can you remember, Leigh?" I look up at Greg and his features look sad. I know I'm the reason he's sad and I wish I weren't. I wish I could make everything better.

"Nothing. Everything after that is a blur." I look around the room, searching for answers. I look at Blade (that's his name, right?) to study his features, hoping they'll tell me something I'm missing! Nothing rings a bell.

"Why don't I remember?" I whisper to no one in particular. Warm hands encompass my own and, amazingly, I feel a little better.

I lift my head up and come face-to-face with Blade. His eyes are smoldering and I know this boy would do anything for me and I have no clue why.

"You'll be okay, Leigh." His voice is deep and rich with an accent I can't quite make out. Latin? Italian? I'm sure it's Italian. Maybe.

"How do you know that? You seem to know me and I have no idea who you are!" More tears roll down my face and he gently wipes them away.

"You will. In time. I have no doubt about that. Maybe once you're healed up and good to go, you'll remember who I am and if not, well, we'll get to know each other again. The most important thing is that you remember who Amanda and Greg are. I know they'd be devastated if you didn't remember them. Amanda was." I nod and sigh. I pull my hands away from him and lay back against the pillows.