Missing

Most people think the worst part was the accident. They imagine the sounds of metal tearing as the car flipped over the asphalt, the acrid smell of burnt flesh and gasoline that permeated from the wreckage as the car went up in flames. They picture the thick pools of blood that flowed from the shattered windshield and onto the shards of glass that littered the ground and the prone, limp body of the nineteen year old girl dying in the drivers seat. So yes, most people think the worst part was the accident. But they were so, so wrong.
It took a total of two gruelling hours to pull the dying girl out of the wreckage. She was so far gone that the paramedics were sure that she wasn't going to make it to the hospital. The girl was so pale and ashen, a brittle leaf in Winter so fragile even the slightest breeze could cause it to wither away. They shifted her onto a metal gurney, as icy as her skin, and carted her away on an ambulance to the hospital, praying to God she didn't die on the journey.
There was so much blood, painting the girl a deep crimson, dripping from her clothes and onto the stark white linoleum floor of the hospital. So much so that the doctors struggled to identify her injuries, buried under the dark stains of the trauma. A severe concussion they said. Swelling in the brain.
They poked at her with steel instruments and cold, lifeless machines for a good six hours, trying to fix the damage. All the while, the girl remained unconscious, a crimson silhouette on the metal table. Their results remained inconclusive and the doctors had no idea the outcome of the head injury, so they kept her under strict supervision until she woke up. That was if she woke up at all.
In the end it took thirteen hours. Thirteen hours for the near-corpse to rise from the dead and into the living. Thirteen hours till the doctors could determine her mental state, and thirteen hours for the girl to come back to her senses.
In total, it took twenty one hours. Twenty one hours from the time of the accident for Thalia Grey, the confused girl lying in the uncomfortable hospital bed to realise she didn't know who the hell she was. Twenty one hours for her to realise all her memories were gone. Twenty one hours for her to find out that everything she once knew about who she was, where she belonged, was missing. That girl was me.