everything has changed ➺ charles leclerc

one - angeli

— angeli

I AWOKE WITH A START, my eyes frantically darting around to gain a sense of familiarity with my location. Where the hell am I?

Disoriented, I examine my surroundings, hoping to recall how I got here. Confusion clouds my thoughts – Why am I here? What's going on?

I observe the IV connected to my arm and the numerous beeping machines surrounding me. The sterile smell that I had grown all too accustomed to fill my senses. You don't grow up with parents who were surgeons and not spend half your life inside a hospital.

I must be in the hospital, I conclude upon seeing a doctor accompanied by some younger looking doctors enter my room.

"Who are you? Why am I here? I demand to see my mother!" I question, still woozy from the sleep I had woken up from. Why do I feel so heavy? This is off. 

I want – no – I need answers.

Where are my family? My parents? Why am I alone? Why am I here in the first place?  Millions of questions swarmed my mind as the doctors took their time before uttering a response.

"Good evening Miss Schumacher. I am Doctor Shepherd, the Chief of Neurosurgery in this hospital. Before we start, I just need to ask you a few questions." Neurosurgery?! Why would a neurosurgeon be speaking to me?  I didn't even know why I was there in the first place! On the bright side, he did answer my first question.

"What is your name?" He asks and I scoff.

"Angeli Schumacher"

"When is your date of birth?"

"October 24th, 1997."

"How old are you?"

"18."

"Who is your mother?"

"Amelié Schumacher."

"What year is it?"

"2015."

"Thank you Miss Schumacher. I have asked you these questions because we needed to get a confirmation on your memory."  As he continues, I zone out and observe his features. He has chocolate brown hair tinted with streaks of gray and white presumably due to age. He has quite a defined jawline, and some wrinkles here and there, also presumably due to age and stress. His features and name are oddly familiar to me, I'm sure I know him from somewhere.

I take a look at the younger doctors standing behind him, they must be surgical residents on their Neuro rotations. I was about to examine them before I'm pulled out of my thoughts.

"- you have been in a comatose state for a few years." One of Doctor Shepherd's residents announce. My jaw all but dropped at the statement. Years?! That's so much of my life! What year is it? How old am I?

As if reading my thoughts, Doctor Shepherd gives me the answer I'm looking for. "It is currently the year 2023, and according to your chart you are now 25 years old." It takes me a moment to process how much time had passed.  I couldn't have been asleep for that long.

"You're kidding me, no? There's no way I've been comatose for that long! If I was, I'd be dead, dumb, and disoriented." I answer in disbelief. There must be a camera crew somewhere around, with a middle aged man popping up to say "you've been pranked!". There's no way this is real.

"How many years was I out?" I question, still not remembering how I got here and desperate for answers. "Unfortunately Miss Schumacher, we were under strict instruction from your mother not to disclose that information to you." Doctor Shepherd speaks.