Remember Me

Chapter 1

*WARNING! THERE WILL BE PROFANITY AND INTENSE EXCERPTS IN THIS STORY. IF THAT IS OFFENSIVE TO YOU, DONT READ. OR ACCEPT IT AND READ ANYWAYS. PLEASE, NO RUDE COMMENTS. NOBODY APPRECIATES THAT SHIT. AND DO NOT COPYRIGHT THIS STORY. I WILL HUNT YOU DOWN AND HAVE AN ELEPHANT SIT ON YOU. ALRIGHT, I FEEL LIKE I AM SHOUTING BECAUSE I AM TYPING IN CAPS. OKAY. SORRY. TO THE ACTUAL STORY NOW...*

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"Time to get up, Bay," my grandma came over and sat on my bed. "Open those pretty little eyes and get that butt outa bed!" She grabbed my comforter and threw it off me.

"Arghhh Grams," I whined, "what the he-"

"Language!" She scolded me. I could practically hear her grin tug at the corner of her lips, she couldn't be that mad. I slowly lifted one eyelid and unleashed my look of death. "Come on now, it's 6 am. You know what that means!" I groaned and rolled away from her.

"No, I refuse," I stated with as much authority my sleepy voice could handle. I heard her laugh and start to get up.

"Okay then, you leave me no choice..." My eyes shot open as I realized what she was going to do. "I guess I will call for Papa to come wake you."

"NO! No, I'm up! I'm up!" I jumped out of bed and ran down to the basement to get dressed in my barn clothes. You see, I live in West Sierra, California. A small town with a population of 987. Wait, scratch that, 988. I live here now, with my grandparents and two dogs. Oh, let's not forget the 18 horses in the barn. And now that I am living with them I have to take a part of the daily chores, which is fine. I don't really mind them, I actually enjoy feeding and grooming the horses, I can even handle mucking out a few stalls. I just can't ride a horse to save my life. Apparently, according to Papa, when I was younger I was a natural in the saddle, I would ride every chance I got. We used to visit often when I was younger, we would visit from San Fransico twice a month at least. I also used to beg my parents to let me stay for the weekends with Grams and Papa after we got there, and they would let me many of the times. My heart clenched as I thought of my parents. It was only a few months ago when the accident happened. We were driving to go out to dinner, a celebration of me finishing my junior year of highschool with a 3.8 gpa. I only got one B in physics, I suck at science. There was another driver out on the highway we were on, but sadly he was drunk and hadn't realized that he was driving on the wrong side of the road. We were driving around the bend in the road, we didn't see him coming because there were trees on both sides of the road, and his car totaled ours coming at a speed of 65 mph. My parents, Sam and Kristy Cross, got hit head on. My mom died on the impact and my father died later in the hospital from internal bleeding, a few hours after the crash. I made it out with a concussion and some memory loss, bruises, and a few gashes from the broken glass. I lost some long term memories, like my younger childhood and facts about myself. When I first woke up from the hospital I couldn't remember Grams right away, but it came back eventually with the help of Papa. The doctors say that my earlier memories will slowly come back to me. They said that most of the time I won't even realize I forgot them until something triggers it for me to remember.

"Bay, come here," I looked up as my papa called out my affectionate nickname and grabbed my arm to pull me in for a hug. I was on the front porch trying to put on my boots, but my vision was blurry and I kept on fumbling on the leather. Oh, I realized I was tearing up as I felt the salt water trickle down my cheek.

I mumbled "Sorry," into his chest as I saw my tears staining his flannal shirt.

"Havin' a hard time today, huh?" he gruffed as he pushed me away and shook my shoulders lightly.