Non-fiction?

      I got into the passenger side seat of the self made golf cart going around thirty-five miles per hour. Unusual, for a golf cart, I thought. It was going faster and faster, well past the standard fifteen miles per hour limit that most carts should and could only abide by. With the sand mix of golf balls along the side of the cart, to the front windshield unhinged just enough to flap back in and out of the frame of it, it was nowhere near new. Yet it was rigged just enough to make her run slightly abnormally fast.
     I don't know exactly what it was that I was thinking. Maybe it was the young, curious me. Or maybe it was the urges. Whatever it was, it was enough to make me act on it.
     As soon as I saw that single patch of green grass that I've seen over the past year and a half, I jumped. Honestly I thought I could stick it. Back then the urges were a lot stronger than they are today, and I was a lot stupider too.
      As my feet touched the hard uncomforting pavement, I thought I had made it. I thought. That was all I had to hold onto, literally. As the whiplash sent me back, I put my hands behind my head to brace myself from suddenly cracking my skull wide open. A rookie mistake. Not only did I crack my skull, I also fractured my right index finger.
      After the not-so-accidental incident, I got right back up as if nothing had happened. But something did happen, and as soon as my body registered that, I fell face smack down onto the pavement.
     The next thing I knew I was waking up to the sound of my own heart beat beating on a heart monitor they had me hooked up to. It felt as if my heart was in my head. I went to see if my skull was still intact when suddenly I felt the weight of my arm pull me down. Wow, I thought. It had gotten to the point where I couldn't tell if it was the I.V or the fact that I could feel my ribs rise and collapse with each painful breath. Had I broken my ribs too?
      Just as quickly as that thought came and went in my mind someone came in.
      "A cracked skull and a slight fracture on your right right index finger."
Fuck. I knew it. Had I hurt myself so bad in the past that I just had some sort of sixth sense about what I had broken? Maybe. . . I hadn't put much thought into it actually. The more I think about it it sounds pretty cool.
     "Ahem."
     " oh, hi dad. Didn't see ya there."
     "She knows what she broke thank you very much!"
Ah, dad. Always a gentleman. At least he's right.
      Honestly I wasn't even thinking about my broken body anymore. And I really needed to splash some water on my face. As I stood up I realized that I was still hooked up to an I.V. Great, this is going to be fun.
      "Woah there, where do you think you're going?"
       "He's right you know, you need your rest."
        "Could one of you at least take this I.V out of me? I think I'll be fine without it."
        "No can do miss. And I'm afraid you'll have to sit back down now."
Great. Next thing I know I'll be staying overnight too.
         "And I'm afraid we'll have to keep you overnight for observation."

         Next thing I knew I had felt a sharp pain in the right side of my neck.
         "Um, excuse m. . ." Was all I could get out.
        They had put me into a medically induced coma. I was out of it for as far as I could tell, weeks, months, years maybe more. But I still heard and felt everything. To the sound of my heart beating, to my dad quietly sobbing uncontrollably in the corner, to the nurses changing my bedpan every so often. It got severely boring just being there. It was like I was a corpse. My biggest fear in life was being buried alive. This was much, much worse.
     I thought about what they would do to me, what I had done to me. It sent me spiraling into a deep depression. The worst part about it was I couldn't even cry. They had taken that away from me too. Along with my pride. Do you know how hard it is to just lay there while people stare and feel sorry for you all of the time? Well, I do, and it's the worst possible feeling imaginable.
    As the days past by I finally felt some feeling of being alive again. Maybe it was time for me to wake up, or maybe it was that feeling you get when you're just about to die. Whatever it was, I just wanted something to happen. I didn't even care which one, just as long as I would be out of this hell they call living. I was a vegetable. I knew it, they knew it. There was no getting around it.
    Suddenly my whole face went cold. Also some parts of my chest and arms. I didn't know what was happening until I heard the sound of someone saying wake up. Wake up. WAKE UP! I felt someone slap my face, apparently this was all it took to send my body jerking up, the first movement my muscles had felt in was seemed like years.
     I fell straight back down, feeling my bones crack as they felt the unusually soft yet firm bed that I had been laying in all that time. What year is it? I thought. Apparently he knew exactly what I was thinking.
     "The year is 2032. My name is Ryan Howell, and I am here to save you.
Great. How do I even know I can trust him?
    Turns out I didn't even have a choice.
     Ryan quickly took the I.V out of my throbbing arm and put me on a broken gurney that looked as if the mere weight of my eighty pound body would send it collapsing to the floor. Next thing I knew we were on our way out of the abandoned hospital. All along the way I could see tattered paint and collapsing walls with little bits of medication scattered everywhere. People here and there fighting over what very little medication was left, medication that was the deciding factor between life and death.
    "Have you had a good look of it all yet?"
     "Sorry I didn't mean to stare. It's just that-"
     "You're not used to it yet. I get it. Lucky for you you won't be staying here very long,"
What do you mean? Is what I meant to say. Turns out I couldn't even muster out that much. I don't know if it was the fact that I had been in a coma for thirteen years or the fact that I was still not comfortable enough with him. I mean, he could kill me for all I knew.
      "I'm not going to kill you you know. You can speak up."
Oh shit. How did he know, again?
      Silence was all I could hear now.
      I wondered if he could hear my thoughts, if people had evolved enough to gain supernatural powers. Do I have powers? No, that couldn't be right. Just he thought of that had me laughing.
     "What are you laughing at? I literally just saved you from years of being in a coma and brought you to a reality you've only seen in movies. How could you be laughing at a time like this?"
     "Sorry. I just was wondering how far people have evolved over the years. I mean for all I know you could be a cyborg."
      "Really? A cyborg? You think that the human race as a whole has created cyborgs just to save you? Wow, you're even more self centered than I thought you'd be. In fact, if anything, humans as a whole have gone even further back in time with all the years that have gone by."
Wow. Set myself up for that one, didn't I?
      "Here, take this. You'll need it for where we're going."
      " where are we going."
       "Back in time."
       Now that had me laughing. I couldn't tell if he was actually being serious or not.
      "I'm serious you know. Once we get out of this hospital you're going straight back to where you've come from."
       I was trying so desperately hard not to show the expression that was currently broadcasted on my face. He definitely knows I think he's full of shit. Great.
      Once we were out of the hospital he rolled me over to another abandoned building. This time it was covered in crippled red brown bricks that have cracked and crumbled over the years.
      "This is it. The time machine."
Was he actually being serious? I mean this looks pretty mediocre for a time machine.
       Once we got inside Ryan pointed to the thing he had given me earlier. It was a cracked open plastic water bottle filled with a greenish blue liquid that looked like contaminated water.
    "Drink it. Now."
I guess I had no choice. I mean he did just save me. And he had proven so far that all he wants to do is help me, so, why not?
     As I drank the questionable liquid I felt myself drift into a deep sleep. Great. Another coma.
     "One thing you should know, kid. My name isn't actually Ryan Howell. I'm actually your dad from the future. I was under this alias to keep you from freaking out. Good luck."
       I shot straight back up again.
                "Dad? What. . . Year is it?"
                 "Who are you talking to?"