Cold. That's all I remember. It was cold, ever so cold, and then it wasn't. Suddenly I was in a neon red and fluoro yellow rescue helicopter, soaring high above a seemingly endless cluster of trees. And then I was gone again. Back to the place where everything was okay. The place where no matter what, I was safe.
***
"Hi darling, it's me again, I brought some new magazines to read to you."
I know that voice, it's my mum. Good old Mum. Hi Mum, I go to say, but no words escape my lips. She starts to read aloud what I think is the latest issue of Gossip. I do love Gossip, good choice Mum.
"Where am I Mum," I ask, but still nothing comes out. "Mum, something's wrong; I can't talk," I scream, but sure enough there's no sound whatsoever. I try to open my eyes but that doesn't work either. All I can do is listen. So I do. Mum tells me all about how Kim Kardashian supposedly cheated on Kanye and Miley Cyrus got another crazy haircut. Celebrities these days.
She closes the magazine ferociously and sighs. "That's it for today, visiting hours are almost over, I'll have to bring the others back tomorrow." Then she leans over and kisses me on the forehead. It tickles. "Stay strong, I love you, see you tomorrow." And then she stands up from whatever chair she was on, and leaves. Just like that. Gone. "Wait," I want to yell but I've given up on talking. Somehow, for some reason I can't. My eyes won't open for the same reason. Instead my body relaxes and I sleep. Even though I kind of already am.
***
"BP," someone calls.
"Same," someone else calls.
"120/80," the first person reads aloud as a pen scribbles harshly in the background.
My body aches all over and I almost want to die. Whatever happened to cause this better be serious enough to be fatal. Suddenly I remember that I have a mum and a dad and a younger sister and two older twin brothers. And it doesn't take a genius to work out that 120/80 is perfect blood pressure. What the Hell is wrong with me today? Or tonight? Eh, whatever.
"Pain level?" Yep, definitely a guy, I add mentally, something I've become way too familiar with.
"Uh.. morphine has been injected so presumably okay." Young woman.
I hear the question man stop for a moment as I assume he raises an eyebrow.
"Doctor Markey, presumably or definitely?" Doctor Markey, I see.
"Sorry Sir, definitely okay."
Wrong.
"Doctor Whiting," he corrects just as snappy as first thought. His clipborad is slammed shut and he purposefully exits the room. My room. Doctor Markey stays but doesn't say anything, even though I can feel her eyes burning into my brain. Suddenly her high heels clank far into the distance and I'm left isolated in this place. Again. But I have a whole feeling inside me. I just made my first hospital friend.
YOU ARE READING
The Coma
Teen Fiction"Hi darling, it's me again, I brought some new magazines to read to you." Mum again. She brings new magazines every week. I'm pretty sure they're the same though. I've taken to tuning out most of the time when she is here, I wish she would just be l...
