After three days of unconsciousness, Agnes finally clawed back from death’s cold grasp. Those eyes, once veiled under layers of meticulous makeup, now appeared sunken and profoundly drained. Lids heavy, showing no desire to flutter open, she remained oblivious to her whereabouts or the events that had transpired.
Stirring slightly, Agnes’s acute realization struck – her body was entangled in swathes of white bandages. Her legs felt anchored by a cumbersome cast. The more she sought to move, the more acute the pain became. Frantic, she touched what once was her beautifully smooth face, only to find it tightly bound by stark white cloth. Waves of sharp, piercing pain seemed to torment both her physical being and her very soul.
In sheer shock, Agnes’s anguished scream resonated, sending the medical staff into a frantic rush to her side. Some tried desperately to soothe and comfort, while others hastened to summon the doctor.
The current reality was unbearable for Agnes. She wept bitterly, her entire being echoing the haunting white of medical dressings and casts.
As doctors hurriedly arrived, they formed a dense circle around her, intensifying her fear. Gazing wide-eyed at these unfamiliar faces, a torrent of questions flooded Agnes’s mind – where was she, why was this happening, how had it come to this?
After a few chaotic moments, a doctor motioned everyone to disperse, then sat beside her, recounting the chain of events. Hearing the story, her cries grew louder. The bleak situation – no home, no kin, no money, and now, grievously injured – was overwhelming.
The doctor refrained from admitting he was responsible for the accident, fearing her heightened emotions might lead to further complications. But his guilt gnawed at him. What weighed on his mind even more was: once the wounds healed, and if the face that emerged was not Agnes’s but that of another, how would she cope?
“You’ve sustained severe injuries and won’t be able to move extensively for a while,” he began gently. “If you need anything, the medical staff is here to help. What’s your name? Do you have a way to contact your family?” He adjusted the bed to make her comfortable and meticulously fluffed the pillows, his demeanor showing genuine care.
Silent, Agnes hesitated, trying to figure out how to respond. On the run, she had no desire to reveal any personal details. The nurse beside her uttered something in what Agnes assumed was the local dialect.
With a measured gaze, she scrutinized those around her. It seemed no one recognized her, which gave her a fleeting sense of relief. It appeared she’d be staying here for the upcoming days.
The physician stood in solemn defeat as the patient remained silent, her identity shrouded, perhaps due to an unsettled psyche. He decided to keep her in the hospital, continuing treatment until her full recovery.
Each day after his shift ended, he remained, nurturing her. Solely, he bore the primary responsibility for her well-being.
A week had passed since he’d been home, where memories of a loving wife once reigned. The house, once significant, now stood bleak in his eyes. Each return was met with an aching void, a sharp sting of loneliness.
Three years had transformed the once well-maintained abode. The walls were tainted with peeling paint. Stairs were caked in dust from the owner’s neglect. The spacious yard, where they once played badminton and shared dreams of children’s laughter, now served as a dark rift between the past and present.
Joyous dinners had faded into memories. Now, he hastily consumed hamburgers, downing them with fizzy drinks, before diving back into his relentless work.
Every day, he endeavored to engage her in conversation, hoping Agnes would open up, offering her a brighter outlook on her current world. His stories, often humorous, lighten her spirit.
Laughter began to pierce the sterile silence of the chilly infirmary when suddenly, he hesitated, asking, “Would you like me to contact your family?”
Beneath a tightly wrapped white scarf, he perceived her fading smile, giving way to melancholy. She tilted her head, replying softly, “No.”
“They should know your condition and be by your side now.”
Agnes remained silent. She understood her circumstances more than anyone. The concept of family was now an unreachable dream. The kind-hearted doctor didn’t know of the sins she bore, the wrongs she’d committed. She feared that in this lifetime, forgiveness might elude her.
She yearned for days past with her parents by her side, chatting each evening, watching television, and sharing meals. Now, any news of them was beyond her grasp. Their homelands might be neighbors, yet her path home felt infinitely distant.
“If you choose not to tell, I won’t force you. But it would be best to remain here, focusing on your treatment. Things will improve in three months, but a discharge isn’t imminent. If you ever need anything or wish to share, contact me.”
Watching Tom’s retreating figure, Agnes felt the warmth and compassion emanating from a seasoned soul who understood life’s hardships.