I can't believe how long it's been since I updated this. I'm sorry to say this is probably quite a cruel update. I've went forward slightly in time and the next chapter - which will be a good bit longer - will go back and explain it all.
Sister Bernadette winced as she opened her eyes, her fingers flexing against the cold, wet ground. Everything hurt, her side, her head, everything. The rain ran into her eyes and she realised that she didn't have her glasses, her eyes narrowed as she tried to squint into the darkness. She couldn't make out anything apart from blurred shadows, the only sound was the river lapping against it's banks.
She had to get up, the night air was freezing and growing colder and she could no longer feel the rain against her cheeks she was so cold. Her hand flattened against the ground and she tried to push herself up. She had only managed to lever herself up a few inches when a yelp escaped her lips as pain shot up her arm and across her ribs and she dropped back onto the ground. Breathing deeply, she tried to ignore the sharp and crushing pain in her chest, she had to get up, she thought again.
Blinking rapidly, Sister Bernadette took a moment to try and gather her strength. She had been so foolish, she should never have ran off, twice in one night, it was the height of madness. She should have stayed with him, instead she had sneaked out like a thief in the night. She thought of Patrick and she thought of Timothy, she had to get up, if she had a hope of fixing this then she had to get.
Gritting her teeth, she tried again to push herself up onto her hands, spots blurred her vision and her head throbbed, her breath falling in harsh pants. She got to her knees and the spots that were clouding her vision grew and she felt her hands give out beneath her as everything went black.