No, I'm not talking about me. xD This is the story I'm writing and am currently stuck on. I keep on changing stuff, so when I'm finished I can guarantee this chapter won't be the same as it is now. Here's the first chapter. Please comment and critic! =3 Chapter 1 ReflectionI was cradled in someone arms, being carried with extreme caution, as if I were fragile. I could not move, I could not open my eyes. The scents of pine, moss, and soil filled the air, which told me that we were in a forest, probably mixed-wood. I could also smell something else, the stench was almost overwhelming. Blood. My blood. I was sure it was, because of the searing pain in my left wrist. I couldnâ€™t tell who was carrying me, so I called him â€œheâ€. He was whispering to himself. His voice sounded agonized, but I couldnâ€™t figure out what he was saying. I felt him stop walking abruptly. He didnâ€™t move for a moment, and looked around. He suddenly, yet gently, lay me down so that I was sitting up against a tree trunk. He knelt down beside me and held my left arm, inspecting it. My read began to slowly fall to my right shoulder. Reflexively, I conjured all of my last strength and lifted it back up against the trunk of the tree. He mustâ€™ve thought that I was completely unconscious, if not dead, because he immediately dropped my arm as if it had burned him. Hesitantly, he opened me left eye with his thumb. Information spilled into my mind all at once as I looked around. His oval face seemed young, his expression was twisted with hope, sorrow, and worry. His jet-black hair was messy, parted almost entirely to the right, concealing most of his left eye. The other was staring into mine, its iris was ice-blue. My eyelid twitched as it instinctively needed to blink, and he let it close. â€œYou sure are tough one,â€ he chuckled sadly. I think he was talking to me. His voice was smooth and soothing. He picked up my arm again, and a needle pierced the skin under my forearm. â€œForgive me,â€ I heard him whisper. I didnâ€™t know if it was the needle or his voice that did it, but I started to blink in and out of consciousness. Sounds started to blur together. And, as if I wasnâ€™t out of it enough already, every sense stopped working as I fell into a deep sleep. * * * I lay on my side in a small room, the floor and walls are made of metal, Iâ€™m too weak to stand. There is a silver chain around my neck, the other end of it is connected to the wall. Iâ€™m trying to fight back tears. Yet, Iâ€™m not normal, not all human. The door to my prison opens slowly. I do not look up, but I know it is a man who is walking slowly towards me. He is light on his feet, I can barely hear his footsteps. â€œWell, what have we here?â€ he says to me slyly. I snarled as he approaches me. * * * I woke up when I felt something nudge one of my bare feet. I opened my eyes, squinting immediately because of the sun. I almost screamed. There was a chipmunk on my leg. I quickly shook my leg to shoo it off, and the muscles in my leg protested painfully from stiffness. That was a dream? It seemed too real. I yawned and stretched as if I had just taken a catnap. My back was soar from laying against a tree for so long, I had a headache, too. Despite my aches and pains, I slowly got up, using the tree for support. I looked up through the treetops. The sun had almost reached the middle of the sky. I looked back down at the trees around me. This shouldnâ€™t be too hard, I thought. All I had to do was goâ€“ . . . go . . . where? Where was I going? Where was I in the first place? How did I get here? What was I supposed to be doing here? Where had I come from? The ground started spinning beneath my feet. Then a question entered my mind that made me want to throw up. Who was I, again? * * * Alrighty, so my brain wasnâ€™t working properly. No biggy, right?. I examined myself, hoping that something would trigger a memory. I wasnâ€™t wearing shoes. I had on black jeans, and a grey top. I grabbed a few strands of my hair. It was straight, black, and hung down past my shoulders. I was still drawing a blank in the memory department of my mind. Wait. Not quite. The only thing I could remember.... was that face. Someone had brought me here. But who was he? Why had he brought me here? I needed more info about me. I needed to see myself I needed to see my reflection.