Prologue
“How is she?”
“She is fine,” the doctor’s voice echoes amongst the walls.
“Yeah, I know, but........how is she?”
“She could be better, but her coma is stable,” the doctor almost sounds affectionate for a moment.
A heavy sigh rings through the room.
“Come back to me, Angel....”

Chapter One
“Here you go,” Lewis hands me a mechanical pencil so that we can work on the History homework. He also turns on some Blake Shelton. I nod my head along with the beat of the music as I scribble my answers.
“Done,” I declare after I finish the last question.
“Me, too,” he adds, putting his pencil down.
A slow country song comes on as we sit there smirking at each other like a couple of idiots.
I notice how his ivy green eyes shine in the low evening light. He seems mystified by my blue ones.
“What?” I ask finally.
He shrugs, “Nothing, really.”
“Really?” I raise an eyebrow, skeptically.
“You’re just....” He stops himself, as if saying it would make him uncomfortable.
“Go on,” I urge him, “say it.”
“You’rejustreallypretty.” He says it all in one breath. He said it so fast that I have to replay the moment in my head to understand what he said.
Then it clicks.
I blush, “You think I’m pretty?”
He nods, widening his smile.
Neither of us moves a muscle for a minute. Until he stands and reaches his hand down to me.
“Would you honor me with a dance?” He asked me with a special look in his eyes that told me that he’d been wanting this for some time now.
I rise to my feet and take his hand. We dance to a slow Garth Brooks song. His body sways with mine. His grip on my hand is firm and strong, but yet sweet and loving. I can feel his raging pulse beneath his fingertips.
“Oops,” I murmur as I accidentally step on his sneaker. We stop swaying as he looks down at his shoe. It now presents a tiny smudge.
“I’m sorry,” I step back, out of his loving grip.
“It’s okay,” He looks up at me and smiles again, “Wanna try again?”
I nod and silently vow to myself that I won’t make the same mistake again.
We slow dance for hours after that. It isn’t until his parents get home that we stop.
“That was amazing,” he tells me when he’s driving me home.
I nod, “I completely agree. It was fun.”
He parks the car in front of my house.
I reach for the door, but Lewis touches my arm, “Wanna do this again sometime?”
I look into his eyes, which are shining more than ever now, “Yeah. I’d really like that.”
I get out and watch him drive away before I walk through the front door into my house.
All at once, the lights flick on and Dad is standing there glaring at me, arms crossed upon his chest. He’s clicking his slipper against the wood floor impatiently.
“Ohhh....” I try to stay calm, “Heyy, Dad.”
“Where were you?” His voice booms at me and I flinch instinctively.
“Uhh, I was working on homework at a classmate’s house,” I say as I desperately struggle to calm my racing heart.
“At eleven o’clock at night?” He glances at the clock briefly before reverting his eyes back to me.
I nod blatantly.
“Is that who that was dropping you off?” He raises his voice some more to get his point out, “A classmate?”
I nod again.
“Female or male?” He seems to chill for the time being.
“It’s....” I force myself to go on even though I can already predict the outcome, “he’s a guy, Dad.”
His face goes redder than a tomato and I take that as my cue to get the hell out of there. I stumble to my room, almost falling down the stairs a couple of times, and close the door.
I dress for bed and lay down replaying this recent evening over in my head, again and again and again.
Needless to say, it was one of the best evenings I’d ever had. Will ever have.
“Thanks, Lewis, for a wicked awesome time,” I whisper to no one in particular.
I close my eyes and drift to sleep.
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What’s going on?
Where am I?
Who am I?
I’m surrounded by darkness, blackness. I can’t see anything in front of me. In fact, I don’t even know if there is a me.
I try to lift my arm, but upon realizing that I have no arm to lift, I release myself to drift through the empty air.
Suddenly, I find myself in a pristine white room. The walls are made of a smooth glassy tile and the floor is a clean light-grey vinyl.
My point of view turns and I am looking at someone in a hospital bed. There is an IV in her arm and her eyes are closed. Her sandy brown hair is shiny yet unwashed. Her skin is ghostly pale, but I can practically feel her heart beating from here. So what’s wrong with her?
“Hey,” a boyish voice says from behind me. I spin around and see a guy walking toward the girl in the bed. He looks up to the ceiling, as if he knows that I am here. Does he know that I’m here?
His gaze wanders back to the girl in the bed, as he reaches the foot of it, “How you doing today, Angel?”
Angel.
That girl’s name is Angel. It sounds familiar, but....should it sound familiar?
The guy opens his mouth, but his words are lost to me as I am pulled away from wherever that place was.
Angel......Angel........Angel.
Angel is me.