I left the hospital a few days after I woke up. I associated faces with names now instead of the sound of their voice or how their hand felt, and Harry hadn't made another appearance. Niall did, though. As did the other boys, but Harry hadn't. They all chattered on about stuff that made little to no sense, and whenever I asked a question about my life, they wouldn't give me much of an answer.
I did know that Harry had been my best friend, though. That I had known him my entire life, and he was just processing everything that had happened. I was told that he would visit me soon, but he hadn't. I was eager to ask questions that the other lads wouldn't answer, and I was disappointed when I left because I didn't know if he knew where I lived.
I didn't even know where I lived.
I could picture a yellow house with a white wraparound porch and a porch swing out back that looked over a small yard with a patio in the middle, and I drew a picture of it when I couldn't sleep. Turns out, it actually was my house that I drew.
As of right now, I was sitting on the porch swing, reading a book called "The Lost Symbol" by Dan Brown. I had a sketchbook and charcoal (not sure if I spelled that right, but who cares?) pencils next to me. The thin canvas paper was something all the boys got me, and my parents brought the pencils from home. I apparently loved to draw and had an art room in the attic, but I hadn't been up there yet. But the sketchbook was already almost full of my sketches, and I'd probably need a new one soon.
"Mind if I sit here?"
I jerked my head up to see who it was, because my parents had left for work after what seemed like hours of convincing them I was fine to be home alone, and I hadn't been expecting anyone.
I smiled when I saw that it was Harry. I moved my sketchbook and pencils before patting the spot next to me. Folding down the corner of the page, I set my book down and turned so I was facing Harry, sitting cross-legged now. He sat down awkwardly, unsure of what to say.
"I'm glad you came," I said, breaking the silence. "I've been wanting to ask you some questions, but you didn't come, and the other lads didn't answer. It got really frustrating."
He just nodded, and I took that as a sign that I could ask my questions. I picked up the notebook I had under the porch swing and opened it to the page where I had written my questions so I wouldn't forget them.
"Who am I?"

Notes

Hey, guys! Sorry I haven't been updating recently! I'm forced to use the computer in the living room now instead of my bedroom so my parents can monitor what websites I'm on. They don't know about this. Because the last time I was on a website I got obsessed with, I got kicked off for not changing the eye color/name of a person. Stupid, right? ONLY because it was too similar to someone else's person. So I'm trying to keep this one under wraps.
From now on, I'll probably only have time to update on Saturdays because I have a Monday-Friday job from 8am-3pm (or maybe it's 8am-5pm... not sure). Or Friday nights and Saturdays. It all depends on my inspiration levels.
ANYWAY..... I SERIOUSLY hope you guys liked the chapter! It seems like you guys have forgotten about it because I never get any feedback.
So feedback would be appreciated. A lot.
And don't be afraid to critisize (not sure I spelled that right, either), because you people have no idea what I can handle. Which, by the way, is a lot. So don't be afraid to hurt my feelings, because it's REALLY hard to do.
COMMENT! RATE! SUBSCRIBE! DO SOMETHING!!!!!!