Must stay awake. Must stay awake.
I stare at the cream colored walls in my room as my legs shake up and down at a speed not much higher than the speed at which my mind is racing. How long has it been since I’ve slept? Has it been days? Months? Years, maybe? All I know is I must stay awake.
“Clare! Breakfast is ready,” a bland voice calls out. It belongs to my mother.
I look over to the small oak side table with my pastel pink alarm clock resting on top. It’s now seven thirty AM. I lasted another night. I get up quickly, entering the small bathroom connected to my room. Looking into the mirror, I see my horrid reflection. My hair is up in a messy bun. My cheeks are red, my eyes are bloodshot and there are bags under them. I lazily splash some water onto my face, but it doesn’t make me look any better. Deciding not to care too much about my appearance this morning, I walk out and head to the kitchen. I can feel my mother’s judging eyes on the back of my head as a walk past her to sit down. I already know what she’s going to say. It’s become a daily routine. She wants me to go to the doctors so she can tell them all about my personal life, how I haven’t slept. They’re going to invade my privacy. I don’t want to go, they’re just going to give me pills. They will ask questions that not even I have the answers to. Days have just been a blur, but I’m not giving up. No matter what anyone says.
--
I swing my feet off the end of the bridge. I cross my slender arms over the railing. Nicholas does the same. We’ve always done this, ever since we got together last year. I’ve known him since I was five years old, so not much changed. I look out at the river below my feet. One minute it’s calm, and the next it’s intense. I look over at Nick and he too is looking out at the rapid river, but it doesn’t mask the look of concern written all over his face. I know it’s for me. A second later he bites his lip and turns his head to look at me. “I agree with your mom, you know,” he says staring into my eyes, but I look away.
“I know, I know already, I just…,” I pause for a moment, looking up at him, “I just don’t know why you care so much, or why anyone cares. It’s not that big of a deal”.
He takes my hands in both of his. His eyes then pour into mine, like the flowing river below us. “ I just want you to wake up,” he says so quietly I almost don’t hear it. I furrow my eyebrows in response. I don’t understand. He notices my confusion and gets up while muttering something under his breath. I get up after him and we start to walk back to civilization with our hands intertwined. All I can do is look down at the gravel below my feet.
--
It’s been a week since I went to the doctors. My mother thinks I’ve slept every night since, but I haven’t. I stare at the ceiling; the only light entering my room is from my window. I think of what my mom said. I think of what Nicholas said, and it still confuses me I’m tired, and now all I want to do is sleep. I’m worn down.
--
When I open my eyes, it’s bright, but it’s night time, and not that much light is in the room. My back hurts and there are wires connected to my arms. Something squeezes my hand. I look up timidly to see a man who doesn’t look a day over twenty one. I notice something else as well. He looks exactly like Nick. “Nicholas?” I croak out, but it sounds nothing like me. He looks up at me, and as he does, his eyes start to gloss over.
“Oh my god,” he says, his voice much deeper than I remember it.
“What happened? Why do you look so much older? Why am I here?!” I say with a shaky voice that I still can’t get used to as mine.
“You don’t remember?” he pauses briefly. “You were driving home, and a drunk driver came and hit you at an intersection. You’ve been in a coma for five years, Clare,” he gets up from his seat to hug me, his face is red as tears stream down his face. It hurts when he hugs me and the wires connected to my arms restricts me from hugging him back.
It now makes sense. I thought I was leading my regular life, but it was all a dream.