The Edwards

Seventh Edward.

The Edwards

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People keep on saying that life is short. That life is very short to do something stupid, to settle down with someone who doesn't know what they want- that it's too short, so live it fully.

Yes I agree we have to live life in it's best, savour the moment and cherish the people who'll slip away from you sooner.

But a part of those phrases was wrong, in reality, life is just a thing that we all have. There are types of 'life'.

There is the life that is alive, and the life we live in, and life as in the whole world. Life is cruel, You have life while rocks don't, My life is crazy.

Those types of life. And the wrong in those phrases were that life wasn't short. Well it could be, but your time in this world is running fast.

For instance, as the band who sang If I Die Young. As they said, Who would've thought that forever could be seperated by a sharp knife and a short life.

The sad fact was that, the song was true. Life within the time ran short and was destined to end at that very breath, every heartbeat, every blink, every swallow of your saliva.

It's amazing what God can do ain't it? He planned when we live, the details and all that (even if it were kindof gross) and he planned how we die.

That's life originally planned I guess.

I'm tired of explaining life, because that object in particular was planned out by the world to never discover. Some things should be left unknown.

The funny truth was that life isn't all we shouldn't know in this world too. We can't always know everything, even a small part of detail is missed.

When I woke up, I realized that my body was sore. Very sore. It was like I haven't moved for a month. A month.

That's the time I spent with you in my dreams, Edward. It's suspicious, really.

A second fact was that I was covered in a white blanket, light blue walls, a cream coloured roof, and a room that filthily smelled of cleaning products.

And a beeping monitor -that sounded like my alarm clock- which keeps in track of the beating of my heart, and not the pounding of my head.

The first phrase I uttered was, ofcourse, very cliché and common that it was said in almost every novel, every house, every show, everywhere.

Especially in every awoken hospital bed.

"Where am I?"

"Oh my god, Mom! Mom! She's awake!"

My head pounded and my ears felt abandoned of protection. My eyesight cleared and I saw my brother, mother and father- and a running doctor.

"I think she doesn't remember."

"Don't say that Jimmy! Have hope on our daughter."

"Impressive, Bella." Said the doctor in an amazed face. He pressed a button on his right arm and after minutes, a couple of nurses came rushing in.

"It's Belle and what the he- hyena happened to me?"

"Tell her, doc." said my father Jimmy, who had a crumpled look on his face as if afraid that I'd break down infront of his eyes again.

"You've been in a coma, Belle." The man in white coat said. The people I hate the most, doctors yes. Annoying, annoying.

"For a month." My brother, Brayden, said in a glare and with his arms crossed. There goes my big bro, acting stubborn even if you could see the worries in his hands clenched.

"Well, that I can see. But any details on why I'm in a coma period or whatever?"

Getting frustrated was the thing I was best with in these types of situations. They aren't spilling the beans and I'm tired of waiting and asking, wasting my breath.

When I want you to talk, you couldn't pause or put a period into your sentence, because impatience is just my forté.

"I think you're not ready for it yet, honey." Mother said in a worrying manner, placing her hand in my shoulder.

"Oh believe me Mom, I am."

"Sigh, alright. Remember you were on your trip to Australia for your final college? Well the plane's engine burned and the air went inside the plane, and you guys crashed in a thorny area." The voice of my Mother cracked.

"You were lucky enough to be one of the breathing ones when the po-po's found you. Millions died you know."

"Thanks for enlightening me, bro."

"Finally at your service, Beast."

"Ah shut it, Beauty. So who else survived?"

"Only five actually, including you. Namely a woman in her 40's named Jane Asvergus, A little girl in middle-school named Gumi Takashi, An old man named Charlis Ventoir, and a kid your age named Edward Luige." The nurse beside me listed, while checking the monitor and drop-thingy.

"Where are they now?"

"They are in the rooms beside you, except Gumi. She was released just last week, that strong girl she was." Another guy-nurse told me as he took notes.

I know, I didn't miss the fact that they said there was a survivor named Edward, around my age. My mind flashed to you, your face, your mind, your words. It all attacked me.

In the most dangerous way that I almost choked and ended up coughing badly. This isn't real, all of it isn't real- the dreams, the days, everything.

"How about the guy named Edward?"

"He's still in room 317, right on your left side. He's still sleeping, it's been a month and he hasn't woke. We're praying for him too." The doctor said as he affirmed that I didn't have amnesia.

A sudden silence for me and my brother's gaze was interupted by the sound of my pain screaming through my veins.

I remember, my dreams and the sunrise was all a lie. In the end of my sleep, I just imagined the alarm clock and the sun.

They were all artificial, and to think the fact that I thought I met you in my dreams was unbelievable in this world.

And there was the first Edward I haven't met, the number seven of the you's. The one who was in the real world, and not in my dreams. The one who's lying unconsiously to the next room, the one who's still waiting for me to appear in dream-land.

The one I always wanted to see.

At last, Edward. You are real, you are beautiful, you are still the Edward I met for the past few dreaming months.

Oh Edward, finally.