Forgotten l.h

Chapter 1

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*Prolog/that night*

I was walking down a path I didn't recognized in the woods. Something cold and sticky was running down the side of my face, and every step I took was a struggle to breathe. Beams of light cascaded through the opaque tree top over head which gave the air a mystic feel. Then a old man probably in his early 70is late 60is came walking down the dirt path. "Hello little girl, why are you walking down this path this late in the night, are you lost?" he questioned me. "I don't know" I responded, he then gave me a questioning look " I can't remember."

A Jane Doe is is brought into the hospital and she can't remember anything, from that night or any day for that matter. All she knows is that after she was released from the hospital she was checked in to Freshwater Institute on July 15th, that she has amnesia and she has to figure out what happened. Using the name she has come accustom to, Jane, she tries to uncover the truth about who she is and what happened to her. As she gets closer to finding out the truth, a troubling past comes back to haunt her.

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Entry #1

I don't really know why I'm keeping this diary but the doctors think that it will help me with my memory. I would introduce myself, but see that's the problem. I don't know who I am, you see I'm a Jane Doe. Everyone just seems to call me Jane which seems to work just fine. I don't know much but I'll write down what I do know. I have dark brown hair which looks almost black. I am 19 years old and a girl, well I guess that part was kind of obvious. I currently reside at the Freshwater Institute for mental health.  I was checked in on July 15th by Tyler Conner after I was released from the hospital. I have a cut on my head and one on my arm which I've received stitches for and bruises all over my body, most of which have healed, and I have amnesia, being the reason I'm here. I learned most of that from the sheet of paper posted to the foot of my bed and from the doctors here.

I live in room 105, it's a small room with a twin bed with cream white sheets. There is a small window on the right side of the room and a small desk right by it. The walls are painted the same colour as the bed spread, but I took some painted from the lounge room and painted a big mural on the wall behind my bed of the the path that Tyler Conners found me walking at 12 o'clock in the night. I have been her for almost 5 months and since then most of my flesh wounds have healed and I've made some friends. My closest friend here is Ariana. She has dyslexia, anorexia and a hyper active imagination and besides what people says she is really nice. She has almost platinum blond hair and pale skin making her blue eyes pop, and she's come a long way with her eating disorder but she still struggles with it especially sine she's started eating small amounts again. Then their is Matthew, he's the doctor who takes care of me the most. He typically looks after my mental health and gives me my medicine. He's been sort of a father figure for me since I've been here, always checking in on me and bringing me some art supplies from the store down the street. He does father type things that I would imagine a normal dad would do, at least that's what I think.

Since I've been here I've been able to remember some thing's like Tyler finding me on that path and a image of a old wood cabin but most people say that was just my imagination. Most days I feel like I'm going insane, I feel as if no one understands me. God I barely understand myself. I've been pushing myself to remember something, just something, about my past. Even pushing too hard sometimes. I had to be put in isolation a few weeks ago from nearly driving myself to the point of insanity after a massive breakdown induced from being in the psych room for too long. The psych room, as we like to call it, is this pitch black room that cuts off every single one of your senses as you lay in a bath of water containing almost 100% salt so that you float. My psychiatrist thought it might help jog my memory, needless to say I've been cut off from going back-