Infectious

Sleeping Beauty

My heavy eyelids try to open but it's like someone has stitched them closed. The days slowly crawl by and I drift in and out of sleep. The only sound is the beeping of a monitor. I'm swimming in darkness and my body feels somewhat lighter than usual. Sometimes Griffith's soothing voice breaks through the veil of near death. He reads old tales of lavish parties and tasteful old fashioned words. Today, I hear the shuffling of footsteps beside the bed.

"No thank you," a female voice declines as I figure out that today is Mia's turn. I hear the sofa creak under her weight.

"Hey," she says, "I'm here to see you." I can here the sadness in her voice.

"You should see what it's like here. My mom arrived yesterday with that black curly haired guy, can't remember his name. It's funny how he resembles Griffith though, same popping green eyes. This other man named Mike arrived too. We thought we'd leave him for you though," she gets out of the chair and I can hear her pacing on the concrete floor.

"We've been preparing your room for when you wake up, Channing Tatum posters. and all," she chuckles at her own joke.

"You probably can't even hear me", she says after a little while. If you only knew! There's a burning silence in the airs and I want to scream "I'M RIGHT HERE YOU WEIRDOS!" but I don't. I can't.

"Y-you need to wake up," her voice cracks. I want to reach out and hug her but my arms feel so heavy, like gallons of water. I feel her thumb stroke mine.

"I'm telling you this as your best friend, just in case you do slip away," she pauses. I can hear her heavy breathing coursing through her lungs.

"I remember when I first saw you in high school. We were in the ninth grade and I was the new girl and everyone wanted to be friends with me but I chose you," she recounts.

"It's not even like you were the popular girl, you were so beautiful that you didn't even realize it. Griffith misses you, we all miss you," she tells me as fatigue weighs into her voice. I begin to slip back into my inevitable doom.

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My eyes shoot open and I try and force myself up but I can't. Air washes into my lungs like the first proper breath I've taken in years. I'm drained yet no physical difference is shown. The fluorescent light ignites the hospital room, casting a glare off of the glossy tile floor. I manage to reach the buzzer beside my bed, clicking the shiny red button a couple of times. A woman dressed in a crisp white coat enters the room and gives me a warm smile. I shoot her a weak and uneasy grin.

"Hi," she says

"Hey," I test out my voice.

"Who are you?" I ask.

"I'm one of the doctors that arrived yesterday," she explains. I advert my gave from hers as much as possible. A cute watercolour painting of Piglet and Winnie the Pooh hangs on the wall above a faded yellow and brown striped couch. It's worn at the seams and stuffing peeks out of one of the pillows.

"Do you remember what happened?" l she inquires. I lift my gaze to meet hers, shaking my head. I prop myself up on the soft, hospital mattress.

"After vomiting, I suppose you gelt woozy because you passed out. When you fell over, your head smacked the tile floor causing you to go into a coma," she explains. I smile sheepishly, that would have been a stupid way to die!

"Why did I pass out?" I inquire.

"If I was told correctly, you were injected with a serum?" she verifies her facts. I nod and she readjusts her glasses onto the bridge if her nose in a studious manner.