I slept. While I slept I dreamed. I saw images, snapshots. An accident. Being taken to the hospital, feeling my spirit leave my body. Going into the next room where more doctors and nurses were working.

A young girl on the table. I see her step out of her body. The Light above us both. She goes upward, I linger. I look down at her form, she looks so young, so wounded. I bend down and kiss her forehead. They apply a shock to her chest. . . ..

I wake up shouting. A woman’s voice beside me tries to comfort me. I feel her hand on my shoulder, and say, “Mom?” “Yes dear, I am here” she says. I look at her. I don’t recognize her at all. I flinch, pull back from her hand, and even before I can stop the words I say “No! Who are you?” Oh God, the look of pain on her face. I say “I’m sss . . . sorry.” I feel like crying again. What’s wrong with me?

The doctor comes in. The woman says “She didn’t recognize me, doctor. What’s going on?” “Try not to worry, Mrs. Allen. She has been through a great deal in the last 24 hours. Now, let me check her out, okay?” He says. The woman stands up, gives my shoulder a little squeeze. “Okay, “ she says. She looks at me “We will get through this sweetie. Try and remember we love you.” She leaves.

The doctor puts a light in my eyes, checks out my head. “Well, physically, you seem like you are recovering. Now, for the memory. What do you remember” I think for a minute. Can I tell him I was a man an hour ago? No. I say, “I was . . . Hurt?” I shake my head. “I am sorry, I just don’t remember.”

“Okay.” He says. “Don’t let it worry you right now, focus on trying to get better. I will have them do a scan of your brain, just in case, but I suspect it’s a psychological response to trauma, not a physical one.”

“That lady. . .” I start. “She says she’s my mom?” “Yes” he replies. “Can she sit with me? I really don’t want to be alone.” “The doctor steps out of the room. Moments later the woman comes in. “You are okay with me sitting with you,?” She asks. “Please. I am sorry I don’t remember you, but I am very scared and don’t want to be alone. Tell me about me. Tell me about my life. Please” I plead.

She sits down, and takes my hand. “Okay, sweetheart.” So she talks. I am a senior in high school, she says. Honour’s student. Love drama, dance, art, poetry, and music. I ask, “Did I have a boyfriend?” She looks sad. “yes, but . . . We will talk about that later, okay?”

I have a feeling I know the answer. “He hurt me, didn’t he. That’s why I am here.” “Its okay hun,” she says, “Its all over. Nobody’s going to hurt you again, I promise.” I suddenly feel tired again. I yawn. I say “I am going to sleep again, stay with me, please?” “Of course my dear. I am not going anywhere.” I manage a smile, but I am worried. What happened? What about my old life, my family? Am I stuck in this girl’s body? What will happen next?