Forgotten

The begining of a new book. A new idea.

The first memory I have is of him, and excruciating pain. A beautiful face looking down at me, and my leg screaming in agony. But I dont remember anything before that, or even why my leg had hurt. Just being held by a boy and feeling safe; though my inner gut was telling me I should be scared. I didn't know why. I still don't. 
I was told that my parents had been murdered, and that I had no other family to take care of me. I was an orphan, sent to live with the boy who'd saved me. He had a family, a real living family. This all happened just a month ago, but it seems longer. It felt as if it had been a year. Because it should've taken at least a year to get over the loss of my parents, but I felt no sadness in losing them. Perhaps it was the fact that I couldn't remember them, or maybe they never even existed.
                                              But I didn't know, would never know. My memory was lost.
                            For all I know, my first time on Earth could've been the night I'd been brought here.