today marks my 3 year anniversary on wattpad y'all

so

uh

ask questions or somethin idk

y'all want me to share a short story i wrote a few weeks ago??

i'mma share the short story

uhhh

~

Delete.

Quinn. My name is Quinn. Quinn Mercier, to be specific. Or, at least that's what everyone is telling me my name is.

I swung my head around wildly as I tried to take in everything around me. I tried to collect my thoughts. I needed to find something concrete to hold onto. The walls were a soft beige. The small TV on the wall was playing some children's cartoon, but I didn't pay it any attention. Slowly, unable to distract myself any longer, my eyes drifted down to myself.

The ugly hospital gown clung to my slender frame. An entire sea of eyes stared at me, each with varying degrees of concern and relief. I felt heavy amounts of gauze wrapped around my head, and my arms and legs were covered with bandage wraps.
"Quinn!" a woman in her mid-forties cried. Her blonde hair was partially taken over by grey, and her face was contorted with a plethora of emotions. From the way she looked at me, I felt like I should know her, but I simply knew nothing. She looked like she was afraid to touch me; I was a piece of ice, and she was afraid to shatter me.

"...what happened?" Even my voice sounded frail.

"Quinn, it was so stormy," I snapped my head to the left. A man, around the same age as the woman who'd first spoken to me. "The car lost its grip. I thought... I thought I'd killed you. You've been unconscious for three days... I thought you were never going to wake up."

I noticed the man's arm was in a splint, but he was still here.

"I..." I didn't know how to say what I wanted to say. "...Who are you all?"

There was a sharp gasp from the woman and tears flooded her eyes. I felt so bad, but when I stared at her face, nothing came to me.

"...You don't remember? You don't remember your own mother?" she choked out through her tears.

"N-No. I'm sorry."

A doctor was called. With a voice hushed to a whisper, he explained it was amnesia from head trauma. He finished his speech by saying he wasn't sure if my memories would ever come back.

I believed the story. I really did. Oh, but that was only day one.

~ ~ ~

It was really only a week after I'd gotten back from the hospital. There was so much hope in the air that being in a "familiar" environment would make me remember everything. It didn't. That didn't stop my mother from frantically tearing through all my stuff and showing it to me, asking me if I remembered anything about it.

A picture of two little kids. Both of them looked to be about seven years of age. One of them had chin-length golden hair and emerald green eyes; the other had pale blue eyes and long, ink-black waves.

I scrunched up my nose. I was at a loss. "Is one of those supposed to be me?"

"No, no, no!" my mother was almost hysteric. "It's your two best friends. Do you really not remember?" She pointed to the blonde haired child, "That's Avia. You met her on your first day of first grade."

"Where is she now? Did Avia visit me at the hospital?"

My mother let out a soft sigh, leaning back with hopelessness. "No. Avia moved away after the eighth grade to go to a private high school. You haven't talked to her in two years."

There was a silence. The tension was so thick in the air that I was certain I could cut through it with a knife.

"Please," she pleaded after a long moment, "Tell me you remember Jasper."

Jasper. Jasper? I guessed that Jasper was the long-haired kid in the picture, but it wasn't ringing a bell.

My mother took my silence as a 'no', which was correct. She wiped at her eyes, before reaching deeper into my drawer than she ever had before. She still hadn't given up hope. As she pulled her hand out, I saw she had some sort of notebook in her hand.

I heard the trace of a gasp fall from her lips, before she quickly, yet smoothly, put the notebook back into the drawer. She instead grabbed onto a locket of some sort, and held it out to me.

I was distracted, to say the less. I didn't remember the locket for sure, but I couldn't really focus on it too much. My mind was on the notebook. My mother had seen it, then shoved it deep into the drawer, hoping I wouldn't notice. I had, and I planned to investigate. Tonight.

~ ~ ~

I was satisfied to hear the small click as I locked my door shut. The house was quiet. My mother and my father had already went to bed upstairs. I slid open the drawer slowly, then dug around in the dark for a while. I felt the cardboard cover of the notebook, and carefully pulled it out. This was it. I was about to discover why my mother had hidden this from me.

I opened the cover. Using my phone as a flashlight, I read:

Quinn,

Saying what happened will put you in danger, but I'll just say that you saw something you weren't supposed to see. I don't know where you're at right now, but I have to leave you this message. Someone is coming for you. They know. I don't know what they're planning to do to you, but if you make it out alive...

Your name is Quinn Starling. Your mother's name is Elora, and your father's is Adriel. They both love you so much, they're so proud of you. You have a twin sister named Rhea. You like cats. You're allergic to freshly cut grass, but you love the smell of it anyways. You're a bit too independent sometimes, but that's okay.

I wish you the best of luck, wherever you may be, and whatever you may be doing.

Sincerely, mistakes were made, yourself.

It was all a lie. Everything I was told... was not true. I have a sister. I was told I was an only child. There was no way they were even my real parents. There was no way my real parents would ever do something like this.

I still couldn't remember anything, but I knew the truth now. The only question was

what to do with it.

The light in my room flickered on.

"I guess you know the truth now," a harsh voice came from behind me. The man I'd previously thought to be my father. "You must think you're real enlightened, huh?"

I was too terrified to give an answer. I slowly climbed to me feet, clutching the notebook against my chest. I felt a breeze, and snapped my head over to see my bedroom window was open. I knew what to do to.

My "mother" took a step forward to stop me, but I was already gone. Tearing through the grassy yard, I didn't dare look back.

I had to find someone who could help me.

Save.