A Years Worth of Waiting

January 7, 2011
I heard the quiet voices of two, maybe three people surrounding me. I couldn’t make out the words but I knew it was me they were talking about. The room was dark and I couldn’t seem to open my eyes. I felt a sudden pain running through my arm and my body started shaking frantically. My eyes opened wide and I found myself in a large bed surrounded by machines. Three pairs of eyes were staring at me, looks of surprise plastered on their faces. Without further notice they rushed to my bedside, tugging at cords and pushing buttons. One lady told me not to talk because my throat would be sore. I was instructed to simply nod my head. I hadn’t the slightest idea what was going on so I laid there and waited.
Within seconds another lady, more superior looking than the other, rushed in asking all sorts of questions. I shook my head and couldn’t seem to remember much of anything. Her tag read Dr. Stevens. I sat and pondered why on earth I would need a doctor. As though she could read my mind Dr. Stevens started rattling off information, her voice cold as ice. She called me by the name of James and claimed I had been in a coma for over a year now. I began to tune her out, all of this information was too much to consume in such little time. However, I tuned in again when she informed me of my lost long term memory.
Stevens said there had been an accident in which my wife and daughter were both killed. She told me nothing more and left the room. This new information startled me and I felt alone. I was awake for no longer than thirty minutes when two policemen arrived. I finally thought I would get some answers. However, all they did was simply read me my rights and had me restrained to my bed. I was to remain in the hospital until I was capable of breathing on my own. There would be a guard present at all times and when they released me I would be brought to the county prison. I sat with tears and confusion as I awaited my fate, the fate I didn’t seem to understand. Nurses rarely checked on me and nobody came to visit. It was as though I was invisible. The reasoning became very clear the next day, as I was sitting in my hospital bed with the morning paper.

MURDERER AWAKES FROM COMA





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