>!Just ([Forget]) It!< [ArrowChaser]

Sunlight filtered through the closed, gray curtains of a bedroom. The thin ray of sunlight landed perfectly on the face of the small girl sitting on a chair with comfy, but torn, arm rests. Her red lips parted slightly, her orange hair falling in messy waves over her face. Her hand fell limply over the side of the blue chair, her white cheek pressed delicatly against the top of that arm. The other hand was crossed over her lap, a piece of paper that was crunched into a ball laying infront of it as if she had been reading it until sleep overwhelmed her. She was still in the clothes that she had worn the previous day, the outfit consisting of a simply t-shirt with torn skinny jeans, but there were no shoes on the soles of her feet. It looked completely normal and peaceful how she appeared, despite how hectic and... peculiar her days went.
The sound of a crying baby jolted the girl awake, sending her jumping to her feet in a spastic fashion.
"W-what the heck?" she mumbled, her hand reaching up to scratch her scalp. Her brown gaze traveled to the crib in the far corner, where the strange sound was coming from. The sound was completely unfamiliar, the sound of it sending a empty feeling through her. Her head seemed eerily clear, the only sound being her thoughts that bounced off of the quiet walls that confined them. The only thing that awakened her from her confusion was the continuous cries that emitted from the crib.

Without thinking, her feet brought her closer to the crib with the consistent cries. She did her best to take delicate and careful steps, trying her best to not make a sound. As she reached the edge, her head peeked over slowly, her eyes meeting the brown eyes of a baby. It looked about a year old, with red little hair falling over the top of it's head. The cries immediatly stopped as it spotted the girl, it's hands reaching out as if asking to be lifted up out of the confines of the bed, but the girl did not understand. She took a step back, trying to figure out where this baby came from, and what it was doing here.

As if on cue, a lady bursted into the room, a frantic look appearing on her wrinkled face. She was a cute old lady, with little spectacles on the edge of her nose, and white hair falling a few inches above her shoulder. As the lady's eyes fell upon the girl, a nervous expression appeared. "Oh Pindula, I see you've woken up already!" she said, anxiety easily sounding in her tone. The old lady quickly shuffled to the chair that... Pindula... had just awoken from and picked up the crumbled paper. "Uh, here, take this and read it please" she said calmly as she approached. Pindula took a few steps back, bumping into the crib behind her where the baby was still waiting to be held "W-who are you... and that baby? Where am I?" she asked shakily, taking the paper from the lady's hands quickly.

The old lady gaze warily at Pindula "I am Esmee, your gaurdian, and that baby is yours. Her name is Flora" she said calmly, though her lips trembled as if she were about to begin crying. "That piece of paper there explains everything, and I think it'd be best if you read it somewhere else" she murmered.

Pindula's eyes widened, the statement not clearing any confusion, but she listened and began to move to the door, stopped in her tracks by Esmee's voice. "I think you should bring Flora with you" she said camly. Despite the uneasiness, Pindula nodded and took the baby from the crib, no smile appearing as the baby tugged at her ear lobes.
It took her a while to find the way out of the small house, but eventually she was walking out of the front door and out onto the old and ragged street. Flora rested securely in her arms, her eyes resting on the eyes of her mother. "So I guess I'm your mom, huh? Wow...I'm kind of young to have a daughter, aren't I?" she asked, as if waiting for Flora to respond to her and ease her confusion. Pindula was on the verge of tears as she traveled to the District Square, a empty feeling surfacing as she sat on a bench. Why did she not remember anything? Why was she holding her daughter, one that rang no bell in her empty thoughts?

Pindula wiped her eyes with a few shaky gasps, staring at the paper that supposedly explained what was wrong with her, and probably explained why she was getting sympathetic and pitying looks from by-passers. With a few glances around, she opened the paper and began to read, a few tears dripping onto the crumbled material as hopelessness crashed through her.