Someone was speaking. No, he was yelling. It sounded angry, but my body refused to cooperate with my commands to open my eyes and be nosy. I tried to move my arms and again, there was no help from my limbs. It didn’t strike me as odd until then.
Then I heard a noise, a gaspy sound, and my cheek was touched by warm fingers. “Emma?” I tried to pry my eyes and felt the glue that seemed to hold them hostage begin to let go. “Emma?”
Who was Emma? I felt the first sliver of light and tried to lift my arm to shield myself, but it wouldn’t budge. Whoever was in the room with me must’ve seen me squint, because the light was doused almost immediately to a soft glow. My eyelids fluttered without strength. I tried to focus on the boy before me. Or maybe he was a man. He was somewhere in between. I didn’t know who he was, but he seemed shocked that I was looking up at him.
“Emma, just hold on. I’m your physical therapist and you’re in the hospital. Your…” he looked back toward the door, “parents aren’t here right now, but we’ll call them. Don’t worry.”
I looked quizzically at him. What was he was going on and on about? That was when I saw the tubes on my chest connecting my face to the monitors. The beeping felt like a knife through my brain. I looked at the stranger’s hazel eyes and pleaded with him to explain.
He licked his lips and said softly, “Emma, you were in an accident. You’ve been in a coma. They weren’t sure if…you’d wake up or not.”
Of everything he just said, the only thing I could think was, ‘Who’s Emma?’