Miss Me?

Chapter 1 - The Morning After

I wake up to the feeling of being suffocated. I lean over the scratchy sheets on the lumpy bed that definitely isn't mine and cough, struggling to catch my breathe. Gasping for air, I struggle to breathe for a minute before my breathing slowly returns to normal.

Once I have recovered from whatever kind of attack that was, I sit up and observe my surroundings in confusion.

Where the hell am I? I think to myself. The room I am in is small, with a tiny window revealing that it is morning. There is hardly any furniture except for a chair, a tv, and bed that looks strangely familiar and I furrow my eyebrows while trying to place it.

It comes to me suddenly. I am in a hospital.

Why am I here? I think silently.

A shrill cry pierces the stuffy air that smells slightly metallic, and I look over in shock.

"Mom! Why are we here? What's going on?" I question frantically, but she ignores me.

I turn to the figure beside her and gasp.

"What is he doing here?" I ask her while shooting the man beside me a generous glare. I haven't seen my father since do was eight years old, and I am seriously confused as to why the bastard is here.

She continues to sob and I shake her shoulder, but my mother doesn't even flinch. I roll my eyes at her behavior before turning to the figure lying on the hospital bed.

This time, I'm the one who screams because the girl lying motionless on the bed is me.

I shakily walk towards the bed, sure that this is some kind of mistake. That simply can't be me. Maybe I have a long lost twin I had no clue about, but there is no way that is me.

But she looks exactly like me. The same blonde ringlets that falls to the waist and are soft to the touch. The same button nose and full lips, though hers have a bluish tint. Even the same curvy figure with long legs, however while I am tan, her skin looks discolored. She even has the same big green eyes with flecks of gold framed by dark lashes, but hers are glassy and stared at nothing.

I whimper as I take in the full scene. There are bandages covered with drying blood wrapping around my lookalike's stomach, and her arms are slightly bruised.

I can't bring myself to look at her a moment longer and I make the mistake of looking down. I slap a hand over my mouth in shock at what I find.

I am wearing torn, dirty clothes that are also matted with blood. I begin to feel the cold floor underneath my feet and realize I'm not even wearing shoes.

I race to the attached bathroom and look in the tiny mirror. My skin looks eerily pale and my ringlets are also soaked with blood. I rip off my shirt to check for a stab wound but find none. I hesitantly place a hand on my chest, but there is no beating of my heart.

There is no denying what has happened, and I begin to sob. I hold onto the cool marble of the sink as my body continues to be wracked with sobs.

My pity party continues and I slowly slump to the floor. My sobs have lessened, but I can't find the will to do anything.

"You know, crying won't help anything," a strange voice calls.