The Coma Patient

Chapter Seven

Chapter Seven

            The rest of that day I was in a trance. I couldn’t focus on anything except for Josh and Christian. I couldn’t help but compare the two.

Josh was real, for one thing, but I’d also known him for years. I knew he liked football and he was a terrible writer. His favorite color was blue—navy blue—and his favorite fruit was an orange. I knew he had a large ego but could be easily offended by the people he’s closest to. He doesn’t like to ride bikes—he’d much rather run. He was nice but if you made him angry he could win a medal for grudge-holding.

Christian, on the other hand, I knew almost nothing about. He was good, his soul was good—I could feel it when I thought about him. His purple-grey eyes went from one color to the other with his emotions. I knew he hated his brother Sebastian but I wasn’t sure why. Christian seemed intimidating and angry from afar but up close he was someone else. He looked dark but I saw the light in him. He kept secrets like no one I’d ever met before. But he isn’t real.

Every fiber of my being sought to deny that one small fact but my brain knew it was impossible for him to be real. He was in my head. He was a figment of my—

“Chas?” a voice asked tearing me from my train of thought.

“I’m here,” I said hoarsely as my friends looked at me with a mixture of worry and confusion.

“Which one do you want to watch?” Belle asked holding up four movies.

I didn’t even bother to read the covers I just pointed at one of them. “That one works.”

“Chastity, can I speak to you in the kitchen for a moment please?” Belle asked tightly.

I nodded and stood up, following her into her kitchen. “What’s going on?”

“What is it that has you acting so strangely?” Belle asked. “First you cry your eyes out on my shoulder during lunch, and now you’re off in another world.”

I sighed and put a hand against my forehead. I knew she’d ask I knew it. I just needed to decide how I was going to handle it. I could tell her the truth and face the funny look she’d give me and her tip-toeing conversations. I could lie and tell her it was nothing. Or I could beat around the bush. “I’m just going through some stuff. When I was in that coma I remembered a lot of stuff and I’m just trying to figure out how to deal with it.” So I decided to beat around the bush.

She gave me a disapproving look but didn’t push me. “I’m here when you’re ready to talk, Chas,” she said softly.

I nodded. “I know. When I’m ready I promise I’ll tell you about everything.”

She gave me a barely-there-smile before patting my shoulder and walking back into the living room. I pressed the heels of my hands into my eyes for a moment before grabbing a glass out of the cupboard and filling it with tap water. When I looked up from the sink, at the little window in front of me there was one word written through the fog; Believe.

I jumped back, successfully splashing water on my shirt. I pulled my shirt away from my skin to examine the mess. I sighed and looked back up at the window—it was cleared. I swallowed stiffly and took a sip from the cup. It left a bad taste in my mouth. Was he here? Was it really Christian? No—no it wasn’t. It was just my imagination. I need sleep.

I walked to the living room—leaving the cup in the sink—and allowed my eyes to roam over my friends for a moment. “I need to go home,” I said. I was surprised at how strong my voice was.