[b]Cricket Westley[/b]

A sharp gasp sliced the still air like a knife. Her sea blue eyes had opened with a start, blinking and looking up at a stark white ceiling. Her lips were parted in the aftermath of her intake of breath, and she could feel her heart rapidly racing from inside her. Closing her lips and swallowing, licking her dry lips and realizing she must have slept with her mouth open, she swallowed again to wet her throat. Strands of brown hair were clouding her vision, and she brushed them aside before sitting up. As she did, she looked down at herself. She appeared to be wearing black yoga pants, her legs twisted up in white covers, and her shirt was an off the shoulder, slouchy tan sweatshirt. She looked at her hands, turning them over and over. These were her hands? She frowned heavily, quickly looking up at her surroundings. Wait… where was she? Who was she?

Tossing the covers aside like a horse kicking sand before a gallop, she leapt from her bed and raced to the mirror in the room, seemingly connected to the dresser. She tried peering at herself through the words, seeing tanned, freckled skin, dark hair with a few high lights, blue grey eyes, and thin lips pulled across her white teeth. Frowning, she didn’t recognize herself at all. She took a step back, eyes narrowed, and read the words scrawled on the mirror in what appeared to be lipstick. [i]I refuse to give up!!![/i] it said. She blinked a few times, slowing coming to terms with the fact that she must be familiar with all this, but a head injury perhaps? Amnesia? Hmm… 

She began exploring her room, finding the teddy with her name, Cricket Westley, and a picture of a baby on her dresser. She lifted her shirt to see fresh stretchmarks, pink and shaped like lightning crisscrossing her stomach and confirming to her that this was her child. She couldn’t even remember his name… A camera next to it, which she began snapping with, and a postcard tucked under the teddy. [i]The sunsets I’ve seen since being here can’t compare to your beauty. I miss you. Xoxo[/i] She felt a stirring in her chest. A longing. But she had no idea who or what for. Sighing, she set the camera and postcard down, rubbing her temples and beginning to pull out all the dresser drawers, search under the mattress, trying to figure out anything else. She was interrupted by a sound that sounded like blasting air, turning and seeing her door open. She’d been so focused on the contents of her room she hadn’t even bothered with the door. But now she took a step towards it, barefoot and feeling the chill of the hallway floor as she looked around at others leaving their rooms. They all looked as equally confused as she did, so she frowned and just continued to look about, corralled into a central room where she crossed her arms defensively, still thinking and trying to understand. Trying to remember.