Being in a coma is really something, I can tell you.
In my case, I can hear and feel everything in the room; from a constant beep of the life support machine, to the tickle of air-con that tempers the room to a comfortable condition.
I can't say that it is extremely unpleasant; it's more like lying in bed all day with absolutely no motivation to neither move nor speak. But at the same time, it has a strange feeling. If you were just relaxing in bed, you would at least have the option to move.
How did I end up like this? Well at this stage I have no idea. I only deducted the options of what was happening from the silenced mutters outside this room, well, I assume. People speaking about different things such as the weather, or an allergic reaction, or what they were going to tell Mark.
I heard them speak his name, but how did they even know who he was. Perhaps they had my phone, and had riffled through it and pulled out my most used contact. It's possible, I mean, I have called him a lot over the past few months.
Mark is a handsome man; a man that I myself have had feelings for, for quite a long time. He isn't tall, but he isn't short ether, he has deep brow coco eyes, and a smile to die for. He has a fluffy mop of red hair perched on top of his head and he is quite built. A man to fall for, for sure. But I myself wouldn't have a chance with him, as I'm sure he probably doesn't swing that way. His personality is what attracted me towards him the most; always happy and funny, laughing and just pure joy. He is joy.
I wonder if they had gotten a hold of Mark. Maybe he would come here, I hope so. Even if I can't see him, I long to hear his voice again and just feel his sweet presence in the room beside me.
I hear footsteps from a long way off, whoever it was, they had to be running. I hear my door swing open and the chatter from doctors telling someone to calm down, and that they would need to speak with them.
"You must be Mark." Someone said.
"I am." Mark replied in a rush.
I feel him beside me; he is so close I can feel him. He isn't touching me, but I can feel his body heat against my right arm. He was there, finally. I was starting to get bored.
"What's wrong with him?" Mark bursts towards who I assume were a pair or either doctors or nurses, or even one of each.
"He is in a coma." Someone answered.
Guessed it!
"He was in a car accident." The other replied.
I didn't guess that.
Car accident? When was I in a car accident? Was anyone else hurt?
"Car accident! When?" Mark blurted.
"He was brought in yesterday morning." Someone finally answered after a short moment.
At this point I was glad to be in a coma, because I couldn't feel any pain. That must have been an upside towards all of this.
"Was it the accident that put him in the coma?" Mark asked calmly this time.
He wasn't facing the staff whilst talking, because I could feel his breath against my cheek and in my hair. Which, I needed to re-dye, the green was washing away, and I didn't want faded hair.
"No," he said, "We had to put him in a medically educed coma whilst putting him through surgery. He was losing a lot of blood and he was becoming unstable. This was the only way to keep him alive." He finished.
"When will he wake up?" Mark asked.
There was a cold silence that filled the room, and I was beginning to worry.
