Amnesia

I blink my eyes a bit, squinting in the light. Four worried faces lean over me.

"Max? Max! Guys-she's awake!" one yells, an African-American girl with pretty brown hair. More faces crowd me now, all of them seeming to be relieved.

"Max, are you okay?" one boy with dark hair and eyes says. I frown.

"Max? Who's that?" I say, puzzled. His face turns confused.

"Max, that's you. Are you sure you're ok?" he says, while the others glance at each other, worried. The dark haired boy pushes hair away from my face. I ponder this for a moment.

"I'm sorry, do I…do I know you?" His eyes widen, and he draws in a breath.

"Max, I'm Fang. Don't you remember me? Us?" He says, motioning to the other people, which I realize are all kids. The youngest one-a girl with big blue eyes and blond curls- shook her head sadly.

"She doesn't remember any of us." she said.

How does she know that? Was I that obvious?

"Oh my God, she has amnesia! Oh no, oh no, oh no!" The black girl says, her voice rising.

"Calm down, lemme see." A strawberry blond boy with pale blue eyes looked at me.

"Max. It's Iggy. Do you remember anything?" He said, looking slightly past my eyes.

"I, um, I….." I said, thinking. I came to a blank. I shook my head slowly. "No, I don't."

He frowned, his face taking on a grim expression. "Guys, Max has amnesia." He said, clearly voicing everyone's fear.

A smaller boy, one who looked shockingly similar to the little girl-were they siblings? – appeared, horror clear on his face. I counted five people in total, all under the age of fifteen. I think. I turn my head a little to get a better view, and wince. That small movement sent razor-sharp spikes of pain into my head, and I rub it, only to feel a bandage. Prodding my head warily, I find a huge bruise around the left side. Ouch.

"How'd this get here?" I muttered irritably. I didn't get an answer.

Only now did I notice how uncomfortable I was. I was laying on my back on a white bed, and that wasn't it. There was something between my back and the mattress. Shifting a bit, much to my body's protesting, I found that the something was sore. What was this? I struggled to sit up, and the dark haired boy, Fang, helped me a bit. Now propped up on pillows, I could look at myself.

I was covered in bruises and dried blood, my clothing ripped and torn in places. Yet I had no idea how I got them.

Weirdly enough, the injuries didn't puzzle me half as much as the 'something' I was laying on, as it didn't go away as I sat up. Moving my shoulders a bit, I felt something soft slide out from behind me. It felt way more comfortable; that 'something' was gone. Curious as to what it was, I strained my neck to get a better view. What I saw nearly made my eyes pop out of their sockets.

I was staring at a wing.

"Wh-wh-wha?" I stuttered, looking around for an explanation. S