A/N:Ok, so you may think this story is stupid, but I've had this plot in my head for well over a year now, and now that I've joined this site, I decided to write it. Ciao!

Belle Pov:

Pain. The most prevalent feeling in my mind as I woke was pain. I sat up straight as my mind cleared. Mom,Dad, falling, flying, Dick, shocked, pain, headache. These words among others were a jumbled mess in my head, and I couldn't think straight. But the images, the images were clear. My parents had just dropped my brother off on the other side, and were coming back for me. No sooner had I been off of the platform and in the air, then the wires that held the trapeze up began to shake. Shake and fall. As we fell my mother accidentally let go of me and the momentum threw my small frame across the room, up to the nosebleed sections. I hit the wall, and that was it.. I didn't remember anything else.

I took a deep breath and focused on the room I was in. It was like a hospital room in some ways, yet more like a basement in others. The walls were stone, as was the floor, and there were stairs in one corner leading up. I was in a corner on a cot. The blankets were scratchy and rough. To my left was the wall, and to my right was a large machine.

The machine had a base that balanced on four wheels. It had a long arm that sprouted from it and hung over me. On the end of the arm was a screw that seemed to attach to smaller tools. On the side of the machine was a control panel.

I felt my stomach turning and I knew I needed to get out of the bed. I was antsy. I never was very good at sitting still. But at the same time I didn't know if my body could take standing up. My skin ached, and I was weak. Devoid of energy.

Despite this, I forced the blankets off of me. Catching site of my body, I was shocked. My legs seemed longer, as did my arms. I also suddenly noticed that my hair fell to my mid-thigh. I had grown a lot since the accident, but that didn't make sense. Why didn't I remember anything since then?

That's not what shocked me, though that was fairly big news. What shocked me was how frail my body was. Growing up as an acrobat, I had always been fairly well muscled. Lean, but still muscled. Not anymore. Now I was positively skinny. My ribs showed through the t-shirt I was in, and my legs were so thin that they gave the impression I was stretched. Even though I still wasn't particularly tall, just taller.

I was wearing a thin white t-shirt, and sweatpants. I found that the room was freezing. I wanted to stand up. I hated how feeble, how weak I felt sitting down. With great effort, I stood up on shaky legs. I briefly wondered how long it had been since I had stood, before deciding it didn't matter. I took a few shaky steps over to where there was a brown chair. A large gray sweatshirt was draped over it. I pulled the sweatshirt over my head. It was much too large for me, but it made me feel warmer.

I didn't know what to do next. I wanted to know where I was, where my family was. My parents couldn't be dead. It was impossible. They were the Flying Grayson's. They didn't get hurt. I felt tears dripping down my face, and quickly brushed them away. Belle Grayson didn't cry.

I felt a shooting pain through my skull and collapsed to the ground clutching my head.

I wonder if the treatment has taken affect.

I heard a voice in my head speak. It wasn't out loud. I heard it in my head. But I didn't say it. That much I was sure of. Someone was in my head. I was approaching full on panic by now. No. I told myself. No Belle. You are not going to panic. You are going to find a doctor and make him tell you what the f*** is going on. Having decided what to do, I stood up.

Then the door opened. A man walked through the door looking at a clipboard and whistling happily to himself. He froze when he looked up and saw me standing there. He looked to be about 45, and had greying hair that was slicked back. He had a nice face and brown eyes.

"You're, you're not supposed to be awake." He said shocked. "Not until I've programmed..." He stopped quickly. "Go lay down on the bed" he told me sternly. "Now."

Being as stubborn as I am, naturally I said. "No." He narrowed his eyes, and lunged forward, grabbing at my wrist. I slipped out of his grasp.

"Belle, please, it's not safe for you to be up."

"Why not?" I asked in a choked voice. "What happened?" He narrowed his eyes further.

"I'll tell you later." He said, his voice full of that sound of empty promises.

"No." I insisted. "You'll tell me now."

"Look," he hissed. "I have tried to be nice,but you will do as I say. Now, go lay down."

"No." I repeated. He lunged for me. I stepped backwards with more speed than he was expecting and ran. I ran from the room, bursting out into the house I payed little attention except to escape. Out the front door, I ran down the street. I was running on pure adrenaline. When that ran out, I realized my legs physically couldn't go any further. I was barefoot and my feet were bleeding. I didn't have any calluses on the bottoms. My legs were shaking from the strain. I collapsed on the ground. Using my last bit of strength, I pulled myself into the alley. There I leaned up against the dumpster, and tried to figure where I was to go from here.