♡ Flawsome First Meetings ♡ "You never know what you have until it's gone."
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If you've ever had amnesia, you'd know that things seem very quick.
You were Y/n Wachowski. A sassy, quick-witted teenage girl with a love for speed and a sharp tongue. Parents? Unknown. Distant relatives? Undiscovered. Hometown? Who the fuck knows. You were sent to live with the Wachowski's as your permanent foster parents after you were discovered wandering around the woods by a couple of hikers. They said that they found you wearing a ripped and dirty jumpsuit with pastel colors that looked like it was ten times smaller than your size. When they had tried to confront you, it was almost as if you couldn't hear them, your mouth open and unspeaking. Eyes wandering, glossy and unseeing.
You couldn't remember much about your past. Most of the time it was like looking at a blank sheet of paper, ready to get into the printer but it's out of ink. After being diagnosed with a concussion and severe amnesia, you were seen as unfit to take care of yourself, so that was how you ended up with the Wachowskis. But just because you were lucky enough to have loving and patient foster parents didn't mean that you had an answer to every question they asked. You had no idea what your favorite color was, what you liked to do in your free time, or even if you were a night owl.
It was like you didn't even remember who you were. Like you had just been born, only you weren't a baby and were instead a teenager. It got incredibly lonely being a child with no memories, and the kids at school found you very creepy. But it was okay. Tom and Maddie made sure to give you as much love as was humanly possible, and when the bullying at school got to the point where they would follow you home, they switched you to homeschooling.
It appeared that you not only had no existing memories of your past, but you also had barely any idea how things on earth worked. Whenever someone mentioned examinations, vaccines, bucket lists, and even governmental agencies, you had no clue what they were talking about.
Not everyone was as patient as Tom and Maddie were, unfortunately. Most people would assume that you were kidding when you asked them what a protractor was or why people ride animals. It all seemed so strange and new to you, like Tarzan when he was visiting the human world and not the ape land he was familiar with. But out of it all, there was one thing that you became absolutely fascinated with.
Cars.
The faster, the better. You seemed to have an unchecked need for speed that tickled at your mind every time you got behind the wheel. Whenever Tom allowed it, you'd take the truck or his old squad motorcycle out for a spin in the abandoned corn fields where you could do as many tricks as you wanted without putting anyone else in danger. One of your favorites was driving backwards.
It's during one of those days where our story finally begins. The Montana sun was high up in the sky, beating down its scorching rays onto the untouched pavement. A flock of birds fled for the telephone polls in an attempt to escape from the ever increasing sound of revving coming from the abandoned corn field near Crazy Carl's traps for the supposed "Blue Devil." In the midst of the dead and crusty corn stalks, there sat a young girl on a very old squad motorcycle. Her hair fluttered gently in the slight breeze running through the air, a pair of sunglasses perched delicately atop her nose in the absence of a helmet. Before her stood a makeshift riser composed of some old wooden slabs she had "borrowed" from an old tree house a little ways south. A smirk played across her lips as she kicked up the bike's kickstand and revved the engine.
