My eyes flutter open, but slowly. Three nurses are standing around me, looking at me. I shift my eyes around in order to get a look at everything, when I see them: Mummy, Poppy, and Josh. Was that all a dream? A dream of my future? Because John is 7 years old, which is my age at the moment. Mummy looks like she dropped 20 years. Poppy, however, looks angry. It scares me. I was in a coma.
"Mummy? Poppy? Josh? Is that really...you?" I question. "How long, Mummy, was I in here?"
"Since you were born."
7 years! I've been in here for 7 freaking years?!
A long silence haunts the room. Poppy scares Silence away. "When, nurses, can he leave for good? We want to see James 24/7." In reply, 1 of the nurses slowly shake their heads. "He cannot leave for one more year. For recovery, we need to have all...bodily fluids and solids...removed. You see, these fluids and solids are"-- here, she pauses --"84 months old. So they have horribly high amounts of bacteria. Thus, we need to be sure that all of this is removed." She finishes with a smile.
And now I have to wait. I have to wait a whole year.
