Chapter 4: Hit and Run.
Elizabeth slowly opened her eyes, wincing as a throbbing headache greeted her. She lay still, trying to recall the events of the previous night.
Fragments of memories flashed through her mind – the bar, the stranger, the kiss... but everything after that was a blur.
As she sat up, a wave of nausea washed over her, and she gasped. Her gaze fell upon the unfamiliar room, and her heart sank. Where was she? And, more pressing, what had happened last night?
Elizabeth's eyes scanned the room, taking in the elegant furniture and the city skyline outside the window.
A man's shirt draped loosely over her body, and she felt a flush rise to her cheeks. What had she done?
Panic threatened to overwhelm her, but she took a few deep breaths, trying to calm herself. Think, Elizabeth, think.
She vaguely remembered going to the bar, feeling frustrated and alone... and then the stranger. His kind eyes, his gentle smile, His lips .....
Subconsciously she noticed a bag on the table opening it to view the content, tears pricked at the corners of her eyes. Whoever this stranger was, he had been kind to her, giving her clothes and toiletries and the content of her bag was still intact.
Elizabeth decided to take a shower, the warm water soothing her sore muscles. As she dressed in the fresh clothes, she felt a sense of gratitude toward this mysterious stranger though she hardly remembered what had transpired last night.
She checked her phone for the time and groaned. She was already running late.
She remembered what made her go to the bar in the first place. Dejected, she walked slowly, as she made her way down the stairs and out of the hotel knowing she couldn't go to work today, Elizabeth couldn't shake off the feeling of unease.
What had happened last night? And what would today bring?
Lost in thought, she walked along the sidewalk close to the park, oblivious to her surroundings.
The sounds of the city – car horns, chatter, and sirens – created a familiar background hum. Elizabeth felt a sense of comfort in the anonymity of the crowd.
But as she turned a corner, her thoughts were interrupted by the screech of tires and the sound of rushing footsteps. Elizabeth's heart skipped a beat as she turned to see a truck speeding toward her.
Time seemed to slow as Elizabeth tried to react, but it was too late. The truck struck her with a sickening crunch, sending her flying onto the pavement. She landed hard, her world spinning.
The truck didn't stop, speeding away from the scene with a chilling screech of tires. Elizabeth lay there, dazed and disoriented, as the reality of the hit-and-run sunk in.
As she lay there, dazed and bleeding, Elizabeth vaguely heard the sounds of people shouting, tires screeching, and sirens wailing in the distance. The last thing she remembered was the feeling of warm blood seeping from her wounds, mingling with the cool pavement beneath her.
Everything went dark as she crumpled to the ground.
The sounds of the city grew faint, replaced by the murmur of concerned voices.
Someone in the crowd rushed to her aid, calling 911 as they cradled her head in their lap.
The next thing Elizabeth knew, consciousness crept back to her in fragments.
A sharp, rhythmic beeping echoed in her ears. Cold. Bright. White. Too white.
The sterile walls blurred above her as she lay trapped in a narrow hospital bed, wires and machines humming softly around her like watchful sentinels.
A gentle voice floated somewhere near her head; calm, reassuring, but the words refused to make sense.
They slipped past her like smoke. Elizabeth tried to answer, tried to ask where she was, what had happened, but only a weak, broken sound escaped her dry throat.
Her chest tightened.
The effort was too much.
Darkness pressed in again, swallowing the sounds, the lights, the voices—until everything faded into silence.