The Girl With No Recollection Chapter 1 The air was cool and calm. She pressed her hands down and felt cottom being pressed down with her strength. Her eyes adjusted to the light. She was in a circular room with a pointed ceiling. She tried to sit up, but that didn't happen. Her arms gave out on her and she collapsed back onto the bed. "Ow." She gasped with pain. After a few heavy breaths, she tried again. She managed to stay on her elbows. Her back and abdominal muscles stung with pain. "Oh God. What did I do to myself? " She managed to sit fully up with her legs dangling off the sides of the bed. She was wearing black ballet flats, a grey cotton dress and her hair was wet. Her legs had little stubs of hair on them. She heard her heart pounding up and down. She swung her head around looking for a door. There was a window at the tip of the ceiling. Behind her there was a door. A big wooden double door with iron handles. "Hello? Is anyone there? Hello!" She swore she heard a sound coming from the other side of the door. She pushed herself off the bed and fell onto the shiny wood floor. "Ah! Hello, are you still there?" She heard another sound. "Okay girl, you can do this. Just get to the door." She grabbed hold of the bed and pulled herself up. Leaning on the bed she made it as far as she could until forcing herself to wothdrawl from the bed. She stumbled to the wall and held onto the door. "Hello? Are you still there? Can you help me?" Unable to hold herself up any longer she fell to the floor. "Help me. Please." She heard something click. "Open it." A small voice echoed from the other side. Still holding the handle, she turned it; then twisted around, still on the floor. The outside floor was white marble and smelled of soap. Standing in front of her was a little boy. He was dressed in gray pajamas with a white trim; just like her dress, minus the trim. He was holding something in his hand. It was concealed in his fist, but a chain dangled from it. She shuffled toward him and took his hands. On her knees, she looked in his eyes. "Hi sweetie, wh-what's your name?" "Dante." His voice was small and angelic. "Hi Dante. That's a ni-nice name. Dante, can you help me? Do you have somewhere we can go?" He nodded. "Okay, let's go." She leaned on him slightly, to stand up, and held onto the wall with her right hand, and in her left was Dantes hand. In his left hand he held the mystery item.