My sight was blurry at first… and when it cleared… I knew then I was in a hospital, lying on my bed, I let myself take a look if he might be here but no there was no sign of him… I saw my mom, she was crying … then she took a glance at me. Her pain was replaced by relief; she hugged me tighter and tighter … then she let loose and wipe her tears away… and mine too... I cried? No, the last time I checked, I only cried at that time… was I really crying even when I was unconscious? How long was I unconscious anyway? ... I checked the calendar … shocked at what I saw, a few weeks time and it would’ve been a year ever since the plane crash, my coma, and especially my friendship with him… I kept asking if he were okay and her replies were always the same. She says she doesn’t know… but I know she knows. My mom wasn’t good at lying, she always flinches… like the time when dad died, everyone asked her if she was okay… then she flinched and said she was okay. In the nights I’d sometimes hear her cry… her sobs… but it was good, at least I know she loves dad so much, yet it still pains me to know that she’s crying, suffering from the loss.

After a week, in bed, roamed around the hospital… I saw a nurse I thought to myself. Maybe they have files… maybe they’d know where I could find him. And so, I asked “um, hello, do you have any files or names of people involved in the plane crash last year?”…then the nurse replied “ sorry miss we don’t do that, maybe after you get out of this place you could go in the national library, there you could find collections of news papers, I hear you’ll find them somewhere in the second floor” … after that I said thank you. I waited patiently knowing that I’m getting closer to finding him… I’d marked the calendar after each passing day. Finally, I was out of my ‘cage’.