A Paradox Reality

Chapter 11: The Coma

Previously with Edmund:

And then, not a sea of nothingness, but voices overtook him.

You almost died.

You're adopted.

You're safe.

You're going to be okay.

You're familiar.

You're "foster" father is dead.

You're related to Mother Earth.

You're valuable.

You're dangerous.

You're Edmund Birchwood.

***
THE BOY WOULD NEVER QUITE REMEMBER WHAT HAPPENED IN HIS DEEP SLUMBER. He would never, not until later, piece together his fragmented memories. He would never recall what he dreamt of in his coma. They told him that he was asleep for three weeks; none of which he remembered until the last three minutes.

A person, unidentifiable and quiet, crept into his room. The boy could hear him; could feel him; breathe on his own neck; shallow and quick breaths. It was one more thing that he would store into his forgetful, sleeping memory, which would soon let go of this experience and pretend that it never happened.

The person grabbed onto the boy's head, their grip firm. They pressed their fingers deep into his temple, like a rejuvenating massage. It would have been a nice, relaxing feeling to any normal person, but not for the boy. He was too far gone. He just wanted, and almost needed, to sleep. He didn't have any wish to awaken. The coma was calling to him, and it kept him attached; he was addicted to the gentle lull of the deep state.

But not for long. The person made sure of that. They kept their fingers deep into the boy's temple, making the boy seize. Again and again and again. Finally, when the boy was sure he couldn't take it anymore, the person stopped. "Boy," said the person, now identifiable as a man. "wake up. The universe needs you. Wake up now, our lives depends on it." And then, he left. The man's footsteps caressed the floor, and he was gone.

Fourteen minutes, they said. For fourteen minutes, the boy ran as fast as he could down the hallways, in nought but a nightgown. He ran faster than he ever had before. His body took full control of him, not allowing his brain a chance to think. It was a fight between body and mind, the body wanting to take flight and run away from the troubles, and the mind wanting to face it.

Where am I? thought the boy, still running. His eyes glued themselves to every object they could find, making him dizzy. Why am I here? The only noise that answered him was the sound of his own bare feet slapping the pavement. WHO am I? The sudden realization pulled him up short, and slowly sank down to the ground. It didn't sadden him and it didn't anger him to realize that he was unaware of who, where, and why he was, it just made him feel hollow. He felt disorientated. He felt like a puzzle that was missing a piece.

In his haste, he was found by a girl. "You finally found your way out of the infirmary, huh?" she said, sitting down next to him. Then, with a more serious tone, she started again. "You gave us all a scare. Don't do that again." She tried for a smile. "By the way, what's your name? We've been wondering for weeks, and it's really been getting on my nerves."

"I-I don't know. I can't remember," he said, looking up for the first time.

She fingered his hair, her chocolate brown eyes staring straight into his. Then, she retaliated, jerking her arm back. "Sorry," she muttered. "habit from your hospital days." The girl twirled her hair around her finger nervously, blushing. Seeming to regain her pride, she tried again. "I'm Adeline. Adeline Richards." She pulled him up so he was standing. "And we should get going. The Council wants to see you as soon as possible."