Quest for Identity
She fought against the haze. It was like trying to bat away gossamer threads. They just kept swirling around her, cocooning her.
Finally, the room came into focus. A hospital? The sun was shining brightly through the window, giving her a view of…a parking lot.
A nurse came into the room like a terrier protecting its mistress. “You’re awake,” she stated rather than asked.
“Where am I?” the woman asked.
“You are in St. Luke’s Hospital. I am Sister Mary Beatrice.”
“What happened to me?”
“You were hit by a car, dear. Unfortunately, the driver didn’t stop. You have been in the hospital for eight days now. We have been quite concerned.”
“Eight days?” She looked at her body covered in the white sheet. She could see the outline of a cast on her left leg and bandages on her arm. She reached up to touch the bandages on her head, but an IV in her arm stopped her. She could feel tears starting to well up in her eyes.
“Who am I?” she appealed to the nun.