Emmalyn's P.O.V

I'm running through a forest, I hear someone laughing as they run after me. I keep running, not knowing exactly why I was running. I came to a stop as I fell over a tree root, my legs, arms and hands grazing the ground. I my right leg getting a bad cut or two to it.

I get up and run, well more like stumble. My eyes full of panic, my heart racing, my legs hurting from running, with sweat running down my face. I stop running and look behind me, I saw someone standing there with a gun, I hear the gun get shoot.

I get hit by the bullet the bullet hitting my left leg. I pass out from the loss of blood.

I wake up with cold sweat running down my face. I pull the blanket off of me, checking my body for any sort of injury. I find that I have no injury on me at all. I don't feel any pain, so it must've been a dream, a very bad dream that is. I think about the other dream I had, what if they weren't dreams what if they were memories.

I feel a huge leap of happiness that I might have been remembering not having bad dreams. But I try not to get my hopes up. I mean who knows what they are, I just have to wait and find out if they really were memories or if they were just dreams. I lay back down and pull the blanket over me. I try to get warm and comfortable but nothings working, so I just lie there and think about everything that I have learnt over the past week or two.

I look at my bedside table, looking at the cross necklace, I sit up and grab the necklace off of the bedside table. I undo the necklace and place it around my neck and then do it up. It feels like the necklace belongs there on my neck. I feel like it had always been mine, but I just haven't had since at least a week or two before I lost my memory.

I walk over to the mirror and look at my reflexion, I finally felt like me, was it because of the necklace that I was wearing or was it because I might finally be remembering.

"But was it a memory?" A part of me asked,

"It could've just been a bad dream," Another part of me says to me. I look down at my left leg and see the scar there, it was just off the right side of my knee. It was then that I realized that it probably wasn't a bad dream.

"Who was it that shot me?" A part of me asked.

"Was it a stranger or was it your dad?

"Is that why you hated your dad?

The same part of me kept asking question after question, probably forgetting that I didn't have answers for those questions right now, but I knew that I was going to be getting my answers soon, well hopefully soon. I felt my legs starting to get cold so I get back into to bed, pulling the blanket over me and falling asleep in a matter of seconds.