#WritcoStoryPrompt25
I stared at the letters tattooed on my right forearm. I had no memory of how I had got it or why I was in a hospital gown or why I was floating at the edge of a muddy, river bank. I had no memory of who I was.
My heart raced with fear as I tried to piece together any clue of my identity. Suddenly, a kind voice broke through my confusion.

"Miss, are you alright?" A young woman...