“I think she’s waking up!” A voice shouted. I blinked my eyes open to find a toddler standing over me.
He gave me a toothy grin (with wasn’t so toothy since he was missing a few), “Hello!”
I widened my eyes at the strange boy and sat up. As I looked around the room I was in I began to feel frightened. I didn’t recognize this room… Where am I?
I turned to the boy, hungry for answers, “What’s your name?” Then I realized… What’s MY name?
He giggled, “I’m Tommy, silly!” I gave him a faint smile and stood up. My head pounded furiously and it hurt like hell. I looked around, confused. The room was painted white with a beige carpet and was strangely empty except for the bed I was laying in. It had two windows, so I walked towards one and peered out. Finding nothing that would help me, I walked out the door leaving Tommy behind. There was a long narrow hallway with multiple doors leading to stairs going down.
My heart raced and my eyes stung as I tried to remember how I got here… and my name. I swept my dark bangs out of my eyes and noticed a hospital bracelet on my wrist. All I could make out was “15 YRS. 6-10-11”. What?
Heading down the staircase, I noticed it smelt like cinnamon. At the bottom was a living room, big and quaint, and a kitchen. Warily, I headed into the kitchen where a blonde middle-aged woman was at a stove cooking French-toast.
“Hello?” I said, kind-of scared.
She jumped, startled, “Robin you’re awake!” She walked toward me and put a gentle hand on my shoulder, “How are you doing, darling?”
“Robin…” I repeated. It felt familiar, and rolled of my tongue easily. So that’s my name, huh?
“What’s wrong, honey?” Her forehead creased with worry.
I cocked my head at the strange woman. Why was she concerned with me?
“Where am I exactly?” Then her eyes widened.
“Damn it, I knew something was wrong…” She muttered then pace off leaving me alone and confused.
Someone cleared their throat behind me and I spun around.
A boy sat at the breakfast table eating cereal alone. I was in awe. He had hazel eyes and a dark bed head that made me want to run my fingers through it, it looked so soft. His chest was bare and sculpted to perfection, but not anywhere towards being obnoxious.
I flipped my hair, suddenly craving a mirror- Wait. I can’t remember the faintest thing and I’m focused on flirting?! So, I sat down across from him, ready to pummel him with questions.
He smiled at me and ran his fingers through his hair. I opened my mouth ready to speak, then he beat me to the punch.
“I’m Eli, Clara’s son. Sorry about your loss,” Eli gave me sympathetic look.
“My loss? And who’s Clara?” He cocked his head at me, “Are you okay?”
I sat back on the wooden chair, overwhelmed, “I… I’m…” I sighed, “I’m not sure right now.”
I rubbed my aching head as Eli stared at me. The woman- who I’m guessing is Clara- walked back in, now on the phone.
“You said she was okay… Yes, I understand there was no comatose…” She paced around the kitchen. She just listened for a while, while me and Eli stared at her. “Well she had a concussion, what does that tell you?!” Clara snapped. After a few minutes she hung up, all attention back on me.
“Oh, honey” she started to tear up, “Don’t you remember anything?” I shook my head.
“You are Robin Charlize Whitaker”, she explained as if I was a child, “I’m Clara, your mother’s-“ She choked up and continued, “best friend.”
I shook my head still confused, “Then why am I here? Why can’t I remember…?”
She smoothed my hair and my heart began to race, “Robin, last night, you and your parents were in a car accident,” Tears rolled down her cheeks and I felt all color drain from my face, “and you survived- they didn’t..” She began to sob. I didn’t cry. I didn’t say not one word. I glanced around the room and let it all sink in.
Because today I learned:
My name is Robin Charlize Whitaker.
I am 15 years old.
And I am an orphan.
The ending was really good 
