Novaturiant

- 1 -

Lola's P.O.V

I attempted to open my eyes once more. Nothing. I had lost count of the amount of days that I've been stuck in this place. Let me introduce myself. I'm Lola, Lola Delaney. I would give you a more in depth description of myself but I'm not quite sure who I am anymore. Confused? Me too. From what I know and can tell you, I have been stuck in a coma for a very long time. As I mentioned before I used to keep track of the days but the number just reached a point where I couldn't keep track anymore.

From what my "nightmares" show I believe I was in an accident a few years back. I say nightmare because well, I never really sleep. If I try opening my eyes all I see is darkness. The only time I see images are when I am reliving the accident. How unlucky, right?

If it's a good day, I can hear the things my parents say to me when they come to visit. Sometimes it breaks my heart knowing that I am powerless. Each day I can hear their voices. It's the same thing. Them begging for their daughter to come back to them. Do they not realize that is my one and only wish at this moment? To "wake up" by some miracle and see their faces once more?

A bad day is one in which I am unable to hear any part of my surroundings, whether it is the machines in my room, the doctors, visitors, my roommates who have come and gone, I think you get the memo. Most of the time, those types of days are the ones that I end up re-watching the accident over and over again. Not my choice of course.

I can hear the monotonous beeping of one of the machines. I think this one is to monitor my heart beat? Eh, don't ask me. I've never seen the damn thing, all I know is it gets on my nerves sometimes with its continuous beeping. I wonder if my parents will come in today? I can't remember if they said so yesterday.

I love my parents, but I personally believe that they should be attempting to spend less time here with me, and doing what they love. My parents were the type to work as much as they possibly could, why? They love working. Ever since the accident they've been here, with me for the most part. I don't want them to miss out on opportunities.

Sometimes I wonder why my parents don't just pull the plug. Now don't get me wrong, I'm very thankful that they want to wait in case I wake up, but I feel as though I'm dragging them down. There's a chance I may never wake up, and they spend every moment here and every penny on the hospital bills to keep me here. Why not go back to work and enjoy each day rather than being sad here?

The door suddenly opened. I could hear the click of the handle as they shut the door. Murmuring voices were faint but there. I tried listening but my hearing wasn't the best at that moment. Dang. Oh well, it's probably just a new person who's expected to come in.

I began to focus all my attention on the two voices. I could pick up on a few words every few sentences. They must be near the door I suppose. I froze after hearing the doctor's voice. Two months before they pull the plug on me?? Just because I was wondering why they hadn't done this sooner didn't mean I actually wanted them to do it. Maybe it would be better though, my parents could put the money that they've been using for my care to use somewhere else. Maybe a charity? Foster program? Something with a good cause I'd hope.

I was in shock when my mom's crying pulled me back. I could tell my parents didn't want to do this but it must be draining the bank as well as challenging emotionally. I can't blame them for wanting closure and to move on rather than being here. For all we know I may never wake up.

What am I thinking? I need to wake up. I need to get better. I don't want to die. I will fight, whether I win or lose I will not go down easy. Not after making it this far.