Supernatural

Chapter II

   It took them four days to find my body. At the time I wasn't really sure what had happened to me, all I knew was that I was dead, yet somehow still thinking and existing.

I was certain that I was no longer alive because I didnt sense my heartbeat, and I didnt, nor even could breath.

   I tried to get up, but my body wouldn't listen to my commands. By the third day I was bored as hell, laying there with nothing to pass the time as I awaited release from my frozen state. I couldn't even sleep, seeing as I had no consciousness.

  I guess you could say it was punishment for my past mistakes, but even so, I still stand for my actions without regret.

***

   On the fourth day a search crew arrived. By then I had enough control over my body to move my head and make small movements. I faked breathing by puffing my chest up and down slowly, and lay with my eyes closed, feigning an unconscious state.
       They fell for my trick easily, and didnt even bother to check for a pulse once they saw that I was 'breathing'.

   An ambulance was called and I was brought to the hospital. They hooked me up to a bunch of machines, which made me realize that there were parts of being alive that I could not fake.

   Just as I thought, they were surprised to see that I was displaying no vital signs of life aside from breathing.

   The doctors weren't much smarter than the paramedics, because they carted the machines out and replaced them with a different set.

   Again they saw the same result, and decided there was nithing ekse they could do besides get the 'faulty' equipment fixed. So again they removed the equipment, this time using video surveillance and periodic doctor visits to keep an eye on me.

   And there I layed through all of this, still only party in control of my body.

   It had been now been almost a week since my 'death', but I'd only regained control of my extremeties; I could bend my fingers, crack my ankles and toes, and lift some of my torso up, but I was still confined to bed, unable to get up.

  I wished time would go faster, because not being able to move or sleep--oh how I miss sleep-- means not dping anything for days on end, aside from continuing to fake a coma. I still felt emotion and boredom, so I guess I'm still human in some ways. Or can I even say that much...?

   Suddenly a nurse came in, thought her entrance interrupted my thoughts. I couldn't see her with my eyes closed, but somehow I knew it was a nurse just by the vibe emitted from the her entrance. I somehow knew that she was carrying a metal tray to my bedside as well.

   The sense of metal brought flashbacks of that incident, and my body suddenly jerked upright, loosening my frozen limbs.

  The sight of a supposed coma patient suddenly sitting up must have startled the nurse, because she stopped walking. I could dully hear the sound of the metal tray crashing to the ground before the room became unnaturally loud, the sounds of glass shattering and the screams of people rang in my ears. I wanted to cover my ears, to stop that horrid noise from entering my head, but my hands clenched around my neck instead, and I shut my eyes tightly as a loud scream erupted from my throat.

  I vageuly heard a female voice yelling for a doctor, and the feeling of strong hands gripping my arms, releasing the vice grip I'd had on my neck. They pushed me back down onto the hospital bed and injected my arm with what must have been a sleeping drug or anesthesia, because they were very surprised when I lay there with my eyes open.

  "He must be immune to it," one of the male doctors said, walking over to a drawer. "Give him a couple doses of triazolam and check back in an hour."

  The nurse nodded her understanding and the other doctors left the room as the woman prepared the drug, taking a few pills from a small, dark bottle.

   Her movements seemed intolerably slow to my senses; I just wanted them to leave so I could be alone. Finally she finished with the pills and told me to swallow them. I did so without complaining, seeing as they wouldn't affect me anyways.

  Closing my eyes, my thoughts drifted towards my friends and family. I doubt my friends would bother to come visit me, but my parents would literally drop everything and run a marathon to the hospital if they heard that I was injured even in the slightest. They were really loving like that, and grateful for it, however annoying it may be some days.

   So my parents probably hadn't heard, seeing as they hadn't  come to visit. No, how could they have heard? The doctors never asked me for my identity and family contacts, seeing as I had only "woken from a coma" about a half-hour ago.

    They couldn't have contaced my parents without my info, so that explains why they haven't heard. But if they don't come pick me up, I can't be discharged from the hospital; although I doubt they'll let me out for a while anyways, parents or no parents.

  This is too much. I doubt I can keep up with this ruse for much longer, but then what will they do with me? I can't imagine what you'd do with a dead guy who was somehow alive; they'd probably call it a miracle of God or something like that. But there's nothing I can do anyways, so I guess I'm stuck here for now.

  These days are really going to drive me insane.