Coma (Slowly Editing)

Day One

I blinked stupidly as Seymour stood up and began walking over to me. He looked fine. In fact, he looked more than fine. He had on a white shirt and nicely fitted pair of jeans. His hair was dark and glossy and his skin was practically glowing. He looked as though he was here to visit a patient, and not the other way round.

“You’re supposed to be in ICU!” I blurted as soon as he was within hearing distance. He halted.

“You can see me!” he grinned and I swear to god I just felt half my brain cells dying from being with touching distance of him.

“I can?” I asked stupidly. Then, remembering at he was supposed to be in ICU, I frowned. “Of course I can see you. Is this some kind of a Halloween prank?”

Two nurses walked past us just then and Seymour jumped infront of them as though he was possessed by the spirit of frog.

“Hey! HEEEEEEY!”

“What are you –” And then my jaw dropped. The nurses had walked through Seymour before pausing to look at me.

“Yes, dear, do you need some help?”

“I –” I began and then stopped when I couldn’t find the words to say. “Well he – and you – just…just…just…oh my god.”

I slumped down on the nearest chair, looking back and forth between Seymour and the nurses. He looked sorely disappointed and the nurses wore puzzled expressions as they glanced at the general direction of where he was standing.

“Honey, are you alright?”

“You just…he was…” I turned to Seymour for help. “Do something.”

“What?” he asked. He placed a hand on one of the nurses’ face but it sank right through, as though…as though he was a ghost. I felt the blood drain from my face.

“Miss? Miss?” one the nurses approached me – walking through Seymour, I might add – and was staring at me with a concerned expression on her face. “Are you hurting somewhere?”

Yes. My brain. I think I’m going crazy.

“No…” I managed to mutter, still looking at Seymour. He was now putting himself through everything – from the vending machines to the walls – with a frown on his face. “I just…I’m having stomachache, that’s all. I needed the washroom.”

The nurse relaxed and nodded. “It’s down the hall, around the corner on your left.” She left and Seymour walked back towards me.

“Please don’t kill me,” I whispered. His frown deepened.

“What?”

“You’re haunting me, aren’t you? Don’t kill me. I’m a good person, I swear. Okay, maybe not lately, but that’s because I’ve been having issues with my life.” I started babbling. “Please. I’m just a girl who eats a lot of pizza, I don’t even kill bugs. Granted, that’s because I’m too chicken to kill them and I get John to do it, but oh god, oh god, oh god, stop floating through things!” I think I’m going to throw up.

“How come you can see me?” Seymour asked, sitting himself down on a chair. He looked down in surprise. “And why aren’t I slipping through this chair?”

“I don’t know,” I moaned. I hunched forward in a fetal position, wrapping my arms around my stomach as though I have a real stomach ache. This isn’t real. This isn’t real. This isn’t real. I just fell asleep while watching Harry Potter, that’s all.

“I hate Harry Potter,” a voice muttered. He was still sitting beside me. Oh god. Now he can hear my thoughts. I can’t breathe. Where is the air? Oh god, oh god, oh god. Wake up, Anna. This is just a dream. Ghosts don’t exist. Seymour didn’t get into an accident and die. You’re just –