As I awoke, limbs folded under me like a sleeping bird, my first thought should have been: "where am I?"

Unfortunately, the first question to permeate my sluggish brain was not that. "Who am I?" slipped from my tongue as I sat up quickly. My head pounded as I looked around. Everything seemed to be alright: beeping, humming, and murmuring like a hospital should. The only things wrong were in my head. I didn't know who I was or how I got here. Somehow, strangely, I knew exactly where I was: bed 307 of the Aulton General Hospital in Canton, Ohio, United States. How? I can't begin to fathom. The only other thing I could remember was my name. 

Anyijaverra Mayra Rescottoll.

"Oh, you're awake!"

A nurse in highlighter yellow scrubs with big blue eyes hurried over to my bedside. "I'm Sonya. How are you feeling, honey?"

"I—good, I guess," I managed to cut in before Sonya stuck a thermometer into my mouth and a hand on my forehead. Before she could even read the temperature, she made a guess.

"100.2 degrees Fahrenheit," Sonya proclaimed, as she removed the thermometer. "Ha! I was right!"

"How did you do that?" I managed to ask, slurring my words a little. Strange as it was, I had a peculiar feeling that I was not speaking in my native tongue, yet I understood Sonya and couldn't think of any other languages that I knew.

"Everyone has superpowers, sweetie," Sonya winked. "Now, let's check your file."

Sonya pulled out a manilla file and looked over the mostly blank page inside. "Can you tell me what happened?"

"What happened?" I repeated, still wary of the foreign words in my mouth. I understood the meanings, but they felt so weird on my lips, as if I'd never spoken them before.

"How did you end up here?"

"I-I don't know," I admitted. Sonya frowned.

"Well, do you have a parent or guardian?" she asked.

"I don't know..." I trailed off, wishing I could be more useful. But it was true, as if my memory had been wiped clean.

"Well, what's your name, then, sweetie?"

I sat up a bit, glad to have a question I can answer.

"It's..." I paused. Something told me that Anyijaverra was a bit of a strange name around here, and I didn't want to appear more strange than I already seemed. "It's Anya. Anya Rescottoll."

"Oh! Our names rhyme then!" Sonya beamed, writing down my name. I told her how to spell my surname, even though I couldn't recall ever seeing it written out before. "Sonya and Anya."

I managed a small smile. Really, I wasn't in the mood. What do you do when you're left all alone in a hospital, without any clue as to who you were?

"How did I get here?" I asked. Maybe I had family who would come pick me up and explain to me who Anyijaverra Rescottoll really was.

"You don't remember? Someone, some passerby, they called 911. We found you lying unconscious in Glenn Park. Don't know what on Earth you were doing there. An ambulance came, and you've been here ever since. Three days, almost. We thought you'd never wake up. The funny thing was... well, I suppose it isn't that funny, strange maybe... your heart was beating so fast. Normally comatose patients' hearts slow down while they're unconscious, but yours was beating rapidly, almost too fast. We thought you would die right away."

I nodded. What do you say after someone tells you they thought you died?

"And my family?"

"Your guess is as good as mine," Sonya said. "No one has shown up looking for you, and it doesn't help that we didn't even know your name to ask around. How are your bruises?"

"My bruises?" I repeated. Sonya nodded.

"On your right knee and forearm."

I pushed away the thin sheet, and rolled up my blue plastic hospital gown. There were no bruises, not even a slight discolouring.

"That's impossible," Sonya breathed. "How did they heal so fast?"

I shrugged. Honestly, why did this lady bother asking questions she knows I can't answer?

"Anyway, we need to find out how to get you home safe and sound. Now can you think for me? Tell me anything you know about yourself."

I bit my lip as I thought. A wave of exhaustion passed over me and I shook my head weakly. I am not going to cry, I told myself. Not now. Sonya's concerned blue eyes flicked down to the floor. I didn't want to make this any harder for her, but what could I say? Sorry, but I think that I'm in a strange country speaking a language I never knew before with no recollection of how I got here, and apparently I'm a master healer, can you help me?

"Well, let's go with physical features. You have the loveliest brown hair, Anya, and you seem about 15 years old? Your skin colour: tan, and your eyes..." Sonya leaned back abruptly, rubbing her forehead. "That's strange. I could have sworn you had brown eyes before, but now..."

"What?" I asked, heart pounding. What was strange? Everything felt strange now.

"Your eyes. They're blue. Blue like the angel's waterfall, that's what my mother would have said. Just like my eyes."

I glanced over at the nearest reflective surface: a stainless steel cart. My reflection was too distorted to tell what my eye colour was. Sonya pushed a loose strand of her frizzy blonde hair behind her ear and blinked. "Never mind," she says. "I must have been imagining things. Anyway, you stay right here and rest. I'll let you know if anyone comes searching for you."

I stayed right there and rested as per Sonya's orders for about a week. When I slept, it was hard to tell if I was out for minutes or days. Multiple times, I woke up to low voices murmuring beside my bed: doctors, no doubt, and social workers trying to figure out what to do with the mystery kid. I spent my days half-in and half-out of the real world. It was hard to tell what was real, but often I'd look down at myself and wonder whether I looked that way the day before. Was my skin lighter? Where did that ring come from? One day, I could have sworn that I woke up and my hair was a light blonde. I quickly covered it with my blanket and hid away for the rest of the evening. I dismissed all this as delusional side effects of my amnesia.

Finally, one day, a tall man entered my curtained-off corner of the ward and told me to get up.

"We've found a family that's agreed to foster you until we can find out who your family is. Mr. and Mrs. Bisset will be arriving in 20 minutes to pick you up."

With that, the doctor exited. Short notice, or what? I sat up, and looked around for something to change into. I'd worn the hospital gown ever since I woke up, and I didn't know whether I even owned any clothes. Hopefully I wasn't naked when I collapsed in the park.

"Anya!" Sonya called as she entered the room. Of all the nurses, she was by far my favourite. "Did you hear?"

"Yes, but, what should I wear?" I asked. "I hardly think a hospital gown would give the right impression."

Sonya's blue eyes lit up and she flashed me a quick one-sec gesture and ducked out of the curtain. When she came back in, she was holding a plastic bag stuffed full.

"Ta-da!" Sonya cries, holding up a pair of sparkly jeans. "They were my daughter's, but she's off in college now. She won't mind."

"Wow, thank you," I say. "But what was I wearing when they found me?"

Sonya laughed her tinkly laugh. "Oh, honey, you're going to laugh so hard!" She dug around under the bed and handed me another shopping bag. I reached inside, only to have my hand enveloped in poofy silk.

"What?" I whispered, as I grabbed handfuls of the smooth fabric. It was like a ball gown, an honest-to-goodness princess dress. There were layers upon layers of puffy tulle and a tight waist with what was probably off-the-shoulder sleeves. I fingered the dress in astonishment.

"Must have been on your way to a costume party or something," Sonya remarked. "Otherwise, you must have really wanted to look good for your ambulance ride."

I cracked a smile to please Sonya, and she left the room, telling me I could keep all the clothes in the bag. I managed to stand up by myself without wobbling over, and searched through the plastic bag for something to wear. I settled on an army green jacket and some non-sparkly jeans. At first I thought there was no way I'd fit into the pants, but I managed to get inside them easily. Before I left, I looked around the room, thinking I should pack up what I had. But what did I have? Nothing but a fancy ballgown and a bag of hand-me-downs. Thinking I had to bring something with me, I grabbed a carton of orange juice and a pudding cup from the tray next to my bed. Then, I made my way down the elevator to the atrium, ready for the new life I'd never known.