FicWad

Lyric's POV

I was finally awake. My arm was tingling, since I had curled up in the chair, and as the hard, wooden arm wasn't very agreeable, had used my arm as a pillow. The sun was coming in through the open window, and if it weren't for the dreary hospital atmosphere, I would have been perfectly contented."Hallo, sleepy-head," joked Pete as he strolled in, "Hope's doing better; would you like to see her?"
At this, I hurried down the hall with him. "What happened last night?" I could only vaguely remember it.
"Well, Hope stole Patrick's hat, he tried to get it back, and the bookcase fell on the both of them. Patrick got out of it with a couple bruises and scratches, but Hope... Hope was on his back at the time, and got the full force of the blow. Lyric, Hope's... not quite herself," He looked down at the ground, the most grave expression on his face that I'd seen in weeks.
Oh, God. At this point I was freaking. Hope wasn't any relation of mine by blood, but... she was family now. She and the boys were all I had. Hell, I was living with the guy who killed the man I loved. I thought he loved me back too, but he had a wife... and a kid. Hope.
"Hope!" I practically shouted as I saw the slightly bruised little girl laying down in the hospital bed, IV in her arm. "Are you OK? Stupid question, I know,"I said, squeezing her tightly, I never wanted to let go. I felt her body tighten through my embrace. I let go of her. She looked at me as if I were absolutely insane, "Who're you?" she asked, eying me suspiciously. Pete sat in the corner, head in his hands. I glanced over at him, hoping to find out just what's going on, but either it's really that upsetting, or the floor tiles are really interesting.
"W-what?" I was shocked at what she just asked me.
"Who are you?" she repeated.
"Hope, it's me, Lyric."
"What? Who's Hope? Lady, I don't know you."
"Hope is you! And what do you mean you don't know me?"
I looked over at Pete, who was now watching us with sorrowful eyes.
"Where's my mom and dad?" she asked, sincere curiosity in her eyes.
I didn't know how to tell her. Hell, I didn't even know what was going on, "Pete?"
"Hang tight," he said to Hope. He took me out into the hall.
"What's going on?" I asked him, leaning against the wall and bracing myself for the worst.
"She can't remember anything," he said simply.
"No freakin' way."
"Lyric, she has amnesia, bad."
"Will she ever remember anything?"
"They don't know."
"Oh, God hates me. It seems like every time I start to get attached to someone I lose them," I said, tears now sliding down my face. Pete, in an effort to calm me down, pulled me into a hug. I pushed him away. I still hated him. Didn't I? Of course I do, I assured myself.
I stared at the ground, for fear of our eyes meeting. I rushed back into Hope's room.
"Listen Hope, you're just a little con-"
"I'm sorry, but I told you, I don't know you."