I gasped and sat up in an unfamiliar bed. I shook my head pushing the new memories of my mystical dreams to the back of my mind. I sorted through them like files keeping the most important closer to the front. I silently lay back down. I slowly opened my eyes and saw the bright colours around me. I looked to the side to see a weak blue curtain with a bleeping machine in front of it. I looked to the other side to see my brother, Drake, asleep on a grey chair next to me; there was another blue curtain behind him. In front of me was the same blue curtain. I seemed to be in St James’ again. I couldn’t believe it, I told them (my family-Drake, Mum and Dad) not to panic about it last time I was here.
Suddenly the machine stopped beeping and I looked up to see the front curtain shaking. It stopped for a minute and I heard some mumbled voices. Then next to me Drake yawned and opened his eyes. “Steph you’re awake?” He said as he took my hand in his.
“Yes, I’m awake. I told you last time, I can wake myself up whenever I want.” I replied sitting up. “Yes, I know, but the doctor said that somehow you’d put yourself into to a coma, a dead coma.” He said worriedly, holding my hand tighter.
“What’s a dead coma?” I asked, releasing his hand.
“A coma that cannot be broken out of. Mum, Dad and the Doctor had been talking about turning off the machine that was keeping you alive.”
“What? But Drake I can wake myself up whenever I want. I told you last time and I only go to my dreams remember, whenever it gets scary or boring I can just wake up like that.” I clicked my fingers weakly. “I know but Dad was saying that if you do wake up, which you have, he…he might…um…take you to a therapist.”
“What? But, why?”
“He said that by the things you were saying that you’d gone mad and needed help.” I saw Drake’s eyes go glassy again. I could see my reflection in them, my hair was in a messy pony-tail, my eyes had massive bags under them and the small pipes going into my nose made me look really pale. “Drake, you’re 20 now you shouldn’t be crying, especially over stuff about me. You know I’ll be ok.” I got up out of the bed, revealing the blue and white patterned hospital gown I was wearing, it looked dreadful. I sat on Drake’s knees and put my arms round his neck. “But Steph you’re 15, you shouldn’t be going into comas yet.”
“I know, but you know you never worry about me. I don’t want you to.” I mumbled feeling the tears ready at the back of my eyes. “I love you, Steph. I’m so glad you’re ok.” Drake said snuggling closer to me. “I love you too, Drake. I’m so sorry.” I cried on his strong shoulder.
“It’s ok Steph, it’ll always be ok.” Drake said cradling me tighter as he let the tears stream out.
