Come Back

This can't be happening. Why is this happening? Not her. It just can't be her.

"We've tried everything we could," the doctor said solemnly.

Code for, "We barely tried at all".

"Her body just keeps rejecting any kind of treatment we give her."

I looked across the hospital room as Mr. Dawson dropped into a nearby chair. Mrs. Dawson seemed unaffected by this news. She was always pretty strong.

"Are you certain she won't wake up?" she asked.

Please don't say it. Please don't say it.

"There's a very high chance she won't," the doctor replied.

Mrs. Dawson turned away, probably to hide the tears in her eyes. I did the same.

"There's a room for you to sit in."

I glanced up as the doctor helped Mr. Dawson rise from his chair. He wrapped his arm around his wife as they headed for the door.

"Katie, is it?"

I looked up and found the doctor addressing me.

"This way, please."

I reached over and took her still hand. "I'd like to stay longer."

The doctor nodded understandingly and escorted her parents out of the room.

I turned to her as I held her hand tighter. How did this happen? When did this happen? The last time I saw her, we were walking home from school together, like always. We were laughing and making jokes and having fun.

I knew something was wrong when I didn't hear from her at all over the weekend. We'd always stay up all night talking on the phone. But she never called me. When I finally got a call from her number, it was her dad. It was to tell me she was in the hospital. That she was in a coma and they couldn't wake her up. They thought maybe me being there would help, but...

But it didn't. She still wasn't responding. Not to me, not to anyone.

I'd been coming every day for the last month, and every day, the doctors say she has less and less of a chance of waking up. And now they'd just given up on her.

I didn't realize I was crying until my tears fell on my hand. I quickly turned away to wipe my eyes, but the tears wouldn't stop.

She can't die. She can't!

As I stared at her, lying still and unmoving in that hospital bed, IV in her arm, and hooked up to a ventilator, that was when the idea arose in my mind. I stood up from my stool and stood next to her head.

I knew I wasn't supposed to. I knew I wasn't allowed to. But what could I do? How could I just let her... let her die knowing I did nothing?

I stared at my hand for a moment before gently placing it on her forehead. My head snapped back as my eyes rolled back and I saw white.

She loved nature so I thought perhaps there'd be birds singing, beautiful trees, and flowers in full bloom. She loved music too, so maybe there'd be instruments lying around, waiting to be picked up. Or speakers everywhere playing her favorite song.

If their minds were supposed to represent them as the person they were, then hers was meant to be bright and happy and beautiful. So why was I staring at dead trees and bushes burned down to ash. A mist of fog floated around my ankles while a cold wind chilled me to the bone. I had a horrible feeling of wanting to huddle in a corner and hide.

Why was it like this? She was always so cheerful. Why was her mind so dark and cold?

It had to be because she was in a coma. There's no way this was truly how her mind was. I had to fix this.