[PARK HYE MI's POV]

If there is one thing I hate the most during mornings, that would be waking up with a headache, a throbbing pain that almost feel like breaking my skull and for a few moments I'll stop and then it comes again together with all pieces of memories I lost from the past months. All blury and vague, I can't even connect something to anything. 
 

I sighed, clutching the blanket spread out from my bed and to the floor, folding it neatly to the top of my pillows and tiptoed until I reached the bathroom door. There was a knock on the outside of my room and I'm pretty sure it's my mother telling me to get up and be ready for the start of the new semester.  
 

It has been months since I first woke up in the hospital remembering nothing of myself and why the heck am I there. My parents told me I was in an accident during a year-end party in my first year, they do not know what exactly happened but said a car collision brought it and for some reason I myself doesn't even want to remember anything about what happened. 
I told my Mom that I was up and that I am getting ready for school which she recognized and left me alone in the room again. 

"Stop it! No!" 

Something struck my head and for the next seconds, I was grabbing the edge of the sink for support. My head is throbbing with so much pain and the few pieces of memories kept on coming back over and over.
 

"Why are you doing this?!" 
 

Someone is shouting, a girl. There was no clear vision for me, only cries of pain and few voices of laughter echoing the dark and blurry memory. 
"Ack! Stop it!" I screamed feeling my knuckles as I grabbed unto the bathroom curtain for support and sat on the tub. The memories kept on flashing and this time it's all series of blacks and whites, endless screaming and thuds.

There was fear, pain, agony and a cry for help.

Taking small deep breaths, it stopped after a few more minutes and sweat kept coming from the sides of my face. 
"This isn't good." I whispered trying to keep my heart calm and steady all my breathing. 
No one knows what memories are those, whose memories are those and what was hidden behind it. It's frustrating yet somehow reassuring me of something.

Something which I think should be kept for a while.