Coma

My eyes opened suddenly, immediately being blinded by the light that shone directly in them. Somehow, the room was completely dark when the light went away. Breathing heavily, I tried to make sense of the audible confusion and panic I gleaned from the blurred figures around me. I heard the quick tempo of a beeping heart monitor to my right, the sounds of someone weeping to my left. I couldn't tell if they were crying from fear or joy.

Where am I? Who are all these people? What is happening?

I wasn't quite sure until I regained my vision and my heartbeat slowed. Blinking slowly and taking a deep breath, I finally was able to take a look around the room I had woken up in.

It was a hospital room. What could have happened to me to make me end up in the hospital? I questioned. The blurred figures were doctors. After checking my vitals, the room was empty, save for the woman with tears in her eyes at my side.

There was a vase of wilting daisies on the nightstand next to me. The weeping lady grabbed a tissue from the box next to it and blew her nose loudly. Seeing that I had finally come to my senses, her eyes widened and a smile grew on her face, her eyes still red from tears.

"Oh Elizabeth, you're awake! I thought we were going to lose you, after all this time," the weeping lady said in a relieved tone. I couldn't seem to remember her name, or if mine was Elizabeth for that matter, but I was too shocked to have woken up here to ask.

"What do you mean after all this time? How long have I been here?"

Her smile grew dim. "Sweetheart... I don't really know how to tell you this, but you've been in a coma for two years. You were in an accident. But don't worry now, because I am never going to let this happen again. From now on you will be protected!" The weeping lady looked determined like she was certain she could keep a promise that I couldn't remember.

"But... I don't remember being in an accident. I- I don't even remember anything. Who are you? Who am I?" I almost started to cry but held back the hot tears as I watched the weeping lady ponder what I had said.

"You don't remember anything? Nothing at all?"

"No. Nothing at all."

The weeping lady's face scrunched for a moment and then relaxed.

"You... y- you are Elizabeth Hart. Two weeks ago was your seventeenth birthday. I am your m- mother. You were in an accident two years ago and have been in a coma ever since. Today, you went into cardiac arrest and almost died," said the weeping woman (or I guess my mother). She seemed to stumble over the words. "I- I don't really know what else to say. I never thought you would forget me, or that I'd even see you again."

I sat in stunned silence for a few moments. I guess it made sense that she was my mother; no other person would weep as much.

"Alright."

"That's all? Just alright?"

"I don't think I have much else to say," I said hoarsely. Truthfully, I had a billion questions, but I didn't think my mother could handle it in this state.

"Ok. Alright. Well...I guess I should get the doctor then," she said solemnly.

After about two weeks, I was released from the hospital to go home. My memory still hadn't returned. I didn't even truly recognize my own face. It was strange at first, looking in the mirror for the first time and not knowing what to expect. Seeing myself in pictures was surreal. I had already scrolled through the camera roll of my phone a few times, trying to garner any bits of my memory through the photos of my old life. So far, not a single face but my mother's had an ounce of familiarity to it. There was an odd stiffness to the pictures of my mother and me; it was very bothersome that I couldn't remember why.

The drive to the house with my mother was all too quiet, save for the sound of my mother's heavy breathing. Pulling into the driveway, my mother was the first to break the deafening silence.

"Here we are, darling. Do... do you... does seeing this house help you to remember anything?" she inquired timidly.

I took in the brick red house slowly. The vines creeping up the sides of the windows were laced with white flowers. There was a tall chimney peeking over the top of the roof with smoke billowing off into the windy sky. I noticed a small crack in one of the windows, the only strangeness in this seemingly picture-perfect house.

"I don't think so. Maybe going inside will help me," I said. Hopping out of the car, I noticed some bits of glass in the cracks of the sidewalk. A larger piece that was sticking out of the sidewalk had a suspicious red tinge to it. I felt a pull towards the shard and carefully picked it up to put it in the pocket of my hoodie.

I heard my mother's keys jingle in the distance and a door creak open. "Elizabeth, are you coming?" shouted my mother.

"Yes, sorry, I'm coming Mom," I answered. I decided to keep the shard of glass a secret. Something about this house seems too perfect. Maybe this will highlight a flaw.

I ran up to the house and closed the door behind me. The house was strangely empty, the only decorations being a few picture frames with more stiff-looking photos of the two of us. My mother had told me that I didn't have any siblings, and my father had left when I was just a little girl. I'm sure I would be sad about that if I could remember the rest of my life, but the emptiness feels calming after leaving the crowded hospital and the bed that wasn't mine.

Still following my mother, she showed me to a room at the end of a hall. "I'll let you go in by yourself. I haven't changed a thing since... well, you know," said my mother quietly. She turned away and went back out through the hallway.

The door was plain white and looked as if it had just been cleaned. Upon opening it, the stench of bleach immediately wafted into my face. The crack I had noticed outside was present on the window above my bed. Why do these strange things keep happening? I was too exhausted to find out. I plopped my hospital bag, and myself, down on the crisply made bed, and look around.

There were about a billion posters on the wall of celebrities I didn't remember. I rested my feet on a squishy rug and opened the drawer to my nightstand. Inside was a thick book. Upon opening it, I realized that it was a diary. My diary.

I flip to a random page dated September 3rd, 2019.

Dear diary,

Mother had another one of her fits today. I am beginning to get more afraid every day that something awful will happen soon. I keep hearing strange creaking noises at night coming toward my room. I fear that she is watching me. Michael seems to be even more afraid of her than I am. He even came to sleep in my room last night because he was fearful she would do something rash. Maybe it's all in our heads. I hope it's all in our heads.

With love, Elizabeth.

The name Michael seemed to strike a chord within my brain. Fleeting memories of a small boy with features similar to mine flooded my thoughts. Did my mother lie to me about having siblings? Why would she even think to do that? And why was I so afraid of her?

I hear footsteps coming towards my room and instantly shove the journal back into the drawer. My mother knocks three times and pops her head through the entryway. "I ordered pizza from your favorite place! Figured it might help with your memory," she said brightly.

"Thanks, Mom! I'll be out in just a moment," I said in a falsely cheerful tone.

"Alright, but hurry up, the foods getting cold."

As soon as the footsteps faded, I quickly opened the diary again. I flipped a few pages ahead of the entry I just read to one dated September 20th. The handwriting was slightly sloppier as if I was in a rush when writing it.

Diary,

Mother has gone much too far this time. Michael has been missing for three days. Father has been out of town and won't return my calls. I fear if I call the police, I may be the next one to go missing! I don't know what to do anymore.

Elizabeth

I was starting to get very scared. She hid from me that I had a father too? This couldn't possibly be the same woman that I awoke next to in the hospital room. The next entry, dated September 24th, was written even more hastily.

I don't have much time to write this down. If anyone finds this, please get help for me immediately. I found the remains of my brother Michael hidden in the basement. My father has not returned for 12 days from what was supposed to be a 5-day business trip. Her intentions seem to be that she is the only one I ever see again. I am going to hide this journal in hopes she will never find it. Again, please, if you see this, send help.

Things were finally starting to piece together in my head. The stiff photos, the bloodied piece of glass, the smell of bleach in my bedroom, the crack on my window. I took a deep breath and flipped to the next page, hoping to find the last bit of information that I needed to remember the whole story.

The page was empty. I frantically flipped through the rest of the pages, looking for something, anything else that I had written down. The rest of the book was completely blank. What do I even do now? I can't go have dinner with that woman.

I hide the diary once again and take a deep breath. If I wanted to survive this, I would have to put on a smile.

I sat down at the kitchen table and put a slice of pepperoni pizza on my plate. "So, did your room help you at all?" asked my mother.

"No, not particularly. I didn't recognize any of the posters." It wasn't a total lie; the posters were unfamiliar.

"Well, that's too bad. I was thinking we watch a movie after dinner?"

"Actually, I'd rather not. I'm pretty beat after being in that hospital for so long." Actually, I'd rather investigate.

She looked disappointed. "Alright then, I guess it can wait until another day."

I finished quickly and headed back to my room. I waited until the time on my phone reached midnight and snuck quietly past my mother's bedroom. I walked quietly, but aimlessly through the house searching for any signs that a door would lead to the basement.

The same stench of bleach I smelt in my room earlier was leeching from a door at the other end of the house from my room. It was pitch black when I opened the door. I stepped in and closed the door behind me; I was enveloped in total darkness. Where is that flashlight button! I thought as I fumbled with the settings on my phone. When I got it on, I immediately noticed a faint copper handprint on the wall, the size of a small child's hand. A shiver went down my spine. I took the rest of the steps and when I rounded the corner, that's when I saw them.

My stomach flipped when I looked at the two bodies laying on cold metal tables. They were decaying, a stitched up line on each of their throats. The smell was retched, rot mixed with bleach. I swallowed darkly as all the pieces finally fell into place.

I remembered the day I first saw their bodies. We had just gotten home from a theme park. I had been working very hard to make my mother believe I wasn't afraid. I tried my hardest to smile as we had our pictures taken at a photo booth. I knew I had to investigate when she wasn't looking; I had to find my family. When I had found them, I ran into my room and locked the door behind me. Escaping through my window was the only option now. I had almost made it when mother got the door unlocked. I hit my head on the glass as I tried desperately to get out. Mother chased me as I ran away from the house, brandishing a glass bottle. I felt a dull thwack to my head and fell to the sidewalk, broken shards of bloody glass all around me.

"I'm so sorry you had to see this darling," came an eerie voice from behind me. It was my mother. She had a haunting look on her face.

"Wh- why did you do this to them?" I trembled.

"Sweetheart, you know exactly why. I am the only one who gets to love you. We didn't need your father and Michael to be a family. All I ever wanted was a daughter, those two were just minor inconveniences I had to dispose of along the way. Now that you are finally out of that coma, we can start over, be a family." A terrifying smile crept over her face.

"How could you say that? I was only ever in that coma because you didn't want me telling anybody about what you did. How could you not feel guilty about this? They were our family. We could have all been happy together."

"No. NO, I disagree. Th-they would have ruined everything. It's just supposed to be y-you and me. Nobody else can love you the way I do. All I want to do is protect you! Please, stay with me and I can teach you... I can teach you how to... how to hurt people the way I do. I- we can be together aaa-and we can be happy, just you and me."

"No! I don't want that. You... you can't just do that. Please just don't hurt me again." I stepped backward, colliding with a cart full of strange-looking surgical tools.

"Wait! You aren't supposed to be afraid of me! No, no, no! This is NOT what I wanted! No, no, no, no, NO...." A chorus of 'no' slipped from my mother's mouth as she paced back and forth across the blood-stained floor.

I searched frantically for something to defend myself with. A large pair of metal scissors lying next to the dead body of my little brother caught my eye. I slowly inched my way toward them.

My mother's no's had trailed off and she was standing still looking at the ground. I had almost made it to the scissors when I knocked into a cart. The lady who was no longer weeping popped her head right up, and that's when I saw a silver glint come off the knife in her hand. I screamed and tried to run, but she was much faster than me. She grabbed me by the arm, spun me around, and just like that, I was back in the darkness.