You wake sporadically at first.

The corners of your vision blur. The overhead lights skew your focus, casting everything beyond its scope into shadows.  Dark figures swarm around you.  Your heartbeat resonates through your body. Louder. faster.  It pulsates through your ears, keeping every other sound from reaching you. An overwhelming exhaustion crowds your senses, forces you to close your eyes.  The percussion fades, the chorus dies.  A cold hand touches your skin as you fight to keep your eyes open. The voice struggles to reach you. Quiet at first. Then louder.

“Can you hear me?”

Its grip strengthens on your arm.

“Can you hear me?”

You lose control, and just before you slip away, you hear, “Can you hear me?”

Your name is Douglas Ramsey and you have been in a coma for seven years, three months, two days. It is eleven twenty-six a.m. and everyone you know is two thousand miles away and thinks you died seven years ago.

It doesn’t matter though, you can’t remember any of them.      

                                                     ~~

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