It's a weird thing being in a coma. You are aware of what's going on around you yet there is a certain level separation. You feel strangely elevated above the border of reality and dream mediating between the two. The brain requires surprisingly little bodily functions to operate a defensive action perhaps. You cannot feel pain nor the lack of it, you're just a static observer inside of your own body as the doctors struggle to preserve what little life there is left in it. Every statement of your oblivion said in medical terms, every heavy breath of near desperation as they look for a way to salvage what's left in your soon to be carcass ...all registered in your mind as simply being there. One cannot comprehend those inputs as she usually does but they are there provoking a response. Memories start appearing; past mixed with what seems to be reality...Perhaps the brain keeps itself occupied just so it can continue functioning, suddenly the voices become all too familiar, you can hear your loved ones, the hated ones, the indifferent ones as the dead and gone become living once again. Reality is nothing but a control volume and now that control volumes are all the memories carved in your dying brain...
Rewind...
780A.S. Happiness...carefree, young...
[size=small]"How was your day Sam?"Victor leaned towards her and kissed her on the cheek
[font=Palatino Linotype]"Pretty busy, I've got a course work to submit by the end of the week"
"Can I help you with anything?"
"No, Vic, I'll be fine. Are you hungry? I was thinking about getting pizza?" Samantha smiled and looked at him
"Sounds good"
Sam got up and gave him a kiss then headed to the shelf where her phone was...Happiness...The little things that make us be, the comfort of your home, the comfort of being with your loved one...Happiness...
...happiness is a cruel mistress.
It took a whisper to prove that, a single whisper in her ear. Not the whisper of somebody afraid of being heard, not the whisper of somebody telling how much he loves you. It was the whisper of a high-velocity round flying past her head. A whisper straight into the heart Victor...a real heart breaker
Rewind...
772A.S, teenage, servitude, family...
"So Sam do you have any plans what are you going to do when we earn get out of here?"
"Don't know, probably go to university then get a nice job in Maliena City...if we "get out" that is"
"Of course we will, the Don's a kind man, I'm sure he'll let us go when we are 18"
"What about you Vicky?
"I want to go off-world, maybe even enlist in the navy"
"You won't forget your sister Samantha while you are out there bathing in fame and fortune will you?"
"Ha ha, not a chance"
Fast forward
"Misses Marquez,
It is my sad duty to inform you of the death of your sister, Victoria-Jane Marquez at 4:00 on 18 August 779 A.S.
Victoria was on her post when a massive explosion took place. She alw...."
The rest was meaningless, words copied and pasted by somebody who couldn't care less about her loss
And all of a sudden the "unrealized" realization comes; people die, loved ones die why do you hang on? It's easier if you just let go, it's easier if you just accept the voices coming from outside "Life signs fading" "We are losing her". Terrifically simple really - just fall asleep inside of your own dream and let life go, make room for somebody else in this universe...
...Or not! Wake up instead, prove the voices wrong. Get the bastard who put you in that position and make him feel what it's like, no don't make him just kill him on the spot. Live because you are you too damned hypocritical to die without first getting what you want. Don't give in, death is boring you can only die once, gain strength and hold on to whatever you have. Heal your mind while the doctors try to heal its vessel. This makes all the difference between being a name in a sad letter and being alive...all the difference in the world
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