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So, my last story was way too emotional, I'm trying again, with something else. Please keep in mind I still can't do very good paragraphs here.

Comments are appreciated.

Beginning
Rachel had few memories, good or bad, of her life as a child. She remembered her fifth birthday, the presents she got. She had a fuzzy memory of one rainy night, then nothing. It was like her life had shut off until seventh grade. Whenever she tried to remember, all she got was bright flashes and warped voices.

Straightening her shirt, she looked in the mirror, checking to make sure she was ready. The moon outside pooled on her floor, shining with enough light there was no need to turn on a light. Not that she would have needed it normally. Giving her skin tight pants a final tweak, she turned to her window, her body blocking the moonlight momentarily. She opened the window, wincing as the squeal of slightly rusted metal grated against wood. Then she was out, jumping to the ground ten feet below and running soundlessly into the woods, her breath making a light mist in front of her.

Her mother had always told her she shouldn’t strain her mind, that there was nothing special in the gap of her memory. Yet when her mother said that, she averted her eyes. That was one of the reasons Rachel had begun to think the story that she had been in a coma was a lie. There must be some important reason. Some reason she was the way she was. Her mind went back to the final memory she had of a child, the last night, as it were.

She had never been a heavy sleeper, and the a knock on the door had echoed through the house one night. She remembered it had been raining hard, and that she banged her foot on the wall near the stairs. Her foot throbbing, she had crept downstairs, as she had done countless times when her parents were asleep. Her mother was talking to two men, darkly silhouetted against the pouring rain. Her mother was quietly talking to them, her voice not giving away a tremble, but Rachel remembered how the lightning flash had illuminated her face, how it had been streaked with tears.

She must have made some noise, accidentally hit something with her hand. Her mother, Megan Grace, turned, and went to her daughter quickly, shielding Rachel’s view of the men. She remembered asking for Daddy. “Listen, I need you to be strong, right now.†her mother had replied, glancing distractedly at the two men. “Please go back to your room? Mommy will be there in just a moment.†Rachel let herself be pushed back to the stairs, but she remembered something, a small silver glint on her mother’s finger. Her wedding ring. “Why isn’t Daddy home yet?†she asked again, trying not to whine. Megan paused, then kissed Rachel’s forehead. “Daddy‘s ot coming home.â€