It hurts.... It hurts so much....

Those were the very first words I said to myself when my eyes opened : I feel like they've been closed for a decade !

Where am I ?...

I feel like I'm lying on something cold and wet. I hear a noise, a shrill and repetitive noise.

It sounds like a siren....

Blue and red light dance before my eyes. I see shadows moving around me, all dressed in white.

What's going on ? Who are these people ? What happened to me ?...

I try to put my thoughts in order, but as I attempt to remember the last few hours, nothing comes to my mind : I don't remember anything ! I try to focus on what is happening in front of me but it's like my brain lets me down : everything is in slow motion ! Everything : the lights dancing and moving slowly, the shadows appearing then disappearing right next to me... It's incomprehensible.

The pain I feel in my body is just unbearable... all my limbs make me suffer, all my muscles, the tiniest bit of my skin... This suffering is such that I even have the impression of no longer feeling it : the intensity of the pain is at the limit of what can be bearable for humans.

I spot a shadow covering me with a sheet which immediately warms me up : it's only now that I realize how cold I am. The same shadows continue to activate around me: they take good care of me with quick but precise gestures. They manage to move my body towards a kind of wheeled thing, much more comfortable than what I had been lying on just before.

Despite the worrying state I'm in, I manage to intercept snippets of conversations : "what happened ? ", "car accident", "two passengers injured", "first victim", "unconscious boy, large hematoma on the head and crushed right hip", "girl, several hematomas on the head and on the forearm".

I wish I could ask them more, for some more information, but as soon as I try to speak, only unintelligible words and sounds come out of my mouth. I attempt to turn my head to follow and understand what's going on but I can't : I feel like my head weighs a ton !

That's when I feel something running down my temple. I try to look up to see what it is, but I can barely move my eyelids!

I then decided to touch this weird substance but a stabbing pain shoots in my arm when I try to move it.

God, it hurts so bad !....

The liquid continues to flow all the way down my forehead, it runs down my nose and onto my upper lip. Then I thought about tasting it, thinking that through the taste I could identify it since I'm unable to use my four other senses. It takes superhuman effort to get my tongue out of my mouth, but the moment my tongue tastes a drop of the substance, I immediately identify it.

Blood. It's blood.

My blood !....

Its metallic taste makes me gag and I want to throw up but instead I start coughing. Violently. With every cough, I feel like my heart is ejected from my body. With each new fit of coughing, a viscous liquid escapes from my throat. I see several people come into my view. Together, they manage, in less than a few minutes, to calm me down, to clean the blood that had flowed from my mouth, which had stained my clothes and thus, soothe this kind of mini-respiratory crisis I just got. Then they put an oxygen mask on my face.

It hurts... It hurts so damn much !....

And suddenly, images, or rather memories, flash before my eyes :

I'm in a car, sitting in the passenger seat.

We are driving at a good pace. I'm holding something in my hands that produces light but I can't remember exactly what.

We are two in the vehicle: a driver and a passenger. I turn my head and vaguely identify a tall silhouette: it's a boy, he has dark brown hair and has big, laughing green eyes.

He wears black clothing.

Noah !...

It's Noah! My brother ! My twin brother !

I remember everything now !...

We had left for Manhattan to enroll in college, and Noah was driving me...

Oh my God !...

Is he also in the same state as me ? Is that him I heard about earlier ? If so, then why are none of these people helping him right now ? What are they waiting for to help him too ? Faced with all this influx of unanswered questions, I start to panic slightly : I haven't heard from Noah ! I need to know if he's alright !

Suddenly, I feel my eyelids suddenly become heavy : my sight, or what's left of it, begins to blur. Spots appear before my eyes, the lights merge into each other. I can no longer distinguish either the people or the things around me: they are nothing more than spots of color which seem to move strangely.

I'm about to lose consciousness....

But first, I have to know. Although the simple mouvement makes me suffer martyrdom, I grit my teeth and decide to turn my head towards a woman who is standing at my right side. I think I discern a sort of.... White blouse that she's wearing. She holds in her hands a sort of... black notebook in which she seems to write something down.

Could it be... A nurse? A paramedic? A doctor maybe?

I reach out to her and grab her blouse with my fingertip. I tug on it as hard as I can to get her attention and just as I had hoped, she turns her attention to me and brings her face closer to mine.

- Don't worry : everything will be alright. Do not worry, she said to me.

No, listen to me : I worry for my brother....

I raise my arm near my oxygen mask to try to free my mouth from it, but as soon as I try to remove it, a violent fit of coughing seizes me again. I feel the awful metallic taste of blood in my mouth and in my throat. I start vomiting, spitting, salivating... I do everything to expel this horrible liquid from my body.

- Shit ! swears the paramedic next to me.

Helped by some of her colleagues, they help me lie down and try to put my oxygen mask back on, but I turn my head and refuse : I refuse to put it back on. Not until I tell them about Noah, not until they tell if my brother is okay. The nurses try to force the mask on my face, but I stubbornly persist in refusing : the only thing that matters to me is Noah. Him and him alone!

Suddenly, I feel like a kind of bubble bursting in my chest. I open my mouth to breathe but instead, I choke : I need air ! I try to grab my throat with my hands but I can't ! I feel like my lungs are on fire and my throat is made of stone ! No more oxygen can pass through! My already heavy eyes threaten to close at any moment and right now, the last thoughts that I am able to think straight all go to Noah.

The paramedics finally manage to put the oxygen mask on again and then I close my eyelids and sink into the sweet and unpredictable country that is unconsciousness.

***

I'm lying on something again but impossible for me to know what exactly : it's slack and hard at the same time. I also feel like my head is elevated and resting on a rather soft object.

In any case, one thing is certain: I'm no longer in the ambulance. I'm no longer tossed around, the incessant flashing of lights and the annoying shrill sound of the siren are both gone as well. I have no idea where I am right now : I just remember the ambulance, my breathing crisis, the oxygen mask and then...

I blacked out.

I feel light on my closed eyelids. They must have powerful neon lights. I also smell a scent of clean and disinfectant everywhere in the room and a kind of long object implanted in my forearm, as well as a kind of thin fabric that covers my naked body. It is a light and very fine fabric. It seems that the clothes I wore before have disappeared.

No more sirens, blinding light, light fabric...

I am at the hospital.

It's so obvious, I don't even understand why I didn't get it sooner.

Suddenly the door opens. A few people enter the room. I can tell because of the several footsteps on the tinsel floor.

- Oh my God ! exclaims a voice muffled by sobs.

What ? What is it ? What's going on ?...

I try to open my eyes to see these strangers but it's like a huge anvil has been placed on my eyelids : I can't open them. Ditto for my other members : I just can't move them. I am completely paralyzed !

Cries ?...

Someone is crying, I can hear it. They are muffled by strange noises : it sounds like somebody is blowing their nose.

- It's awful ! exclaims the same voice as before. How !? How could this happen to you ?! To both of you?!

- Mr and Mrs MacGregor, I am truly sorry that you have to see your daughter in this state, but I assure you that my team and I are doing everything we can to heal her.

Dad ? Mom ?....

- I know that, doctor, but it's our daughter who is lying in this bed ! Our daughter !

- I completely understand, sir, continues the doctor, and I assure you that she is in very good hands. Shall I inform him of her condition?

- Yes, please, said my mother in a trembling voice.

- Alright ! So your daughter has different hematomas on her head with more or less severity, her forearm is fractured in multiple places as well as the entire pelvis bone area. Her spine also has some slight cracks but nothing too alarming. She also suffers from several cuts in certain places of her body with more or less seriousness, some contusions on the lip, on the right temple, on the left eye as well as on the right cheek. Her lungs were also affected : we detected the presence of a clot but, fortunately, we were able to treat it just in time. She also suffers from trauma on her right leg : the femur bone is slightly broken. There is also the presence of a concussion but unfortunately we don't know if the brain has any damage yet, or if it will develop any later.

I hear a thud, like the sound of a notebook being slammed shut.

- I've just briefly explained to you the various wounds and lesions Muzelina suffers from and as you probably are able to realize they are rather worrying.

I hear him clear his throat.

This does not bode well at all....

- Particularly some specific areas of her brain. This is why...

- This is why ? urges my father.

- This is why, he continues, we've seen fit to place her in an artificial coma to allow her to recover better.

I hear my parents holding their breath, visibly shocked to hear this news.

In a coma... I'm in a coma....

- I know that all this is very upsetting for you but as I told you, my whole team and I are doing our best to allow your daughter to recover as quickly as possible. Do you have any questions ?

- Will... Will she ever walk again ? ventures to ask my mother.

- Of course ! exclaims the doctor. The spine is affected but not the spinal cord : so yes! She will walk again, don't worry about that.

I can sense the relief in my parents' voices. I feel so too : finally some good news !

- However, he continues, to be completely frank with you, it all depends on her and the state of her brain. If the motor cortex, the cortex that manages our motor skills, is affected...

- She might not ever walk again, right? asks my father in which anyone could feel the growing anxiety.

- No no ! the doctor reassured him. But her chances will be divided, that's for sure.

What ?!...

Okay, so let's resume together, alright ? So : I'm in an artificial coma, I have many broken bones, many bruises, many contusions, a freaking clot in my lungs or whatever, and I have to deal with not only a concussion, with more or less damage to my brain, but also I have to get used to the idea that I might never walk again ?!

It's a hidden camera ! Yeah ! It's probably a big prank planned by my relatives to scare me !....

No, even better : it's a nightmare. Yes, this is all just a fucking nightmare and I'm about to emerge from it soon. Yes, I'll wake up! Come on, wake up !

Wake up !...

- You have more questions ? asks my doctor.

- Yes. We want to see our son Noah.

- Oh, right : the second victim of the accident ! Of course: I'll accompany you !

What ?! No, non : wait !...

The door opens and closes just as quickly, just as brutally.Wait for me...

Wait for me... Wait for me, please....

The room was empty and silent now.

I want to know what happened to Noah....

***

Do you know what it's like to be lying on a bed, in a completely unmoving body, a completely disconnected brain, yet your mind and your thoughts still going on ? Well ! It's your lucky day : because that is exactly what is happening to me ! They deliberately disconnected my entire body except for my full heart system, which keeps me alive. Apart from that, nothing is in perfect working order and despite that, I am still able to use my mind and think, and hear, and feel...

I wonder if all the people who are or have ever been in the same situation as me have all been able to feel the same things as me.The days follow one another and look alike: they make me eat via the infusion implanted in my arm and they also give me a whole bunch of drugs via this very same infusion. They wash me as well as they can. I'm sure I'm not wrong if I say they don't do it happily : nurses have to. It's their job and there's no doubt the doctor puts a lot of pressure on them, but they do it anyway and that's why I'm enormously grateful to them.

The more I am taken care of, the sooner I will recover and the sooner I will open my eyes....

I don't know how many days have passed, but I hear the door open, however I know it's not a nurse because I have succeeded, after a while, in being able to distinguish and differentiate the moments during which they come to visit me. It is true that I no longer have any notion of time, but I managed to notice a few signs: for example, the person who has just come in did not exclaimed :

- "Hello Muzelina! It's a beautiful day ahead, isn't it?"

And furthermore, the door opened very slowly, as if the person was afraid of waking me up. I don't get this type of attention at all among the nurses : when they come in, the door opens wide and starts to creak, which is a rather unpleasant sound for my little ears.

And on top of that, they carry that horrible smell of disinfectant on them....

While this newcomer carries a completely different scent.

Jasmine, cinnamon and a slight tangy note with a hint of lemony scent....

I could recognize this perfume among a thousand others: as a child, when I was putting my head in her neck, this mix of scents used to irritate my nose terribly.

And still to this day it seems....

- Hello Muza darling. It's me, mom.

I hear her drop something on the floor, probably her purse, and hear her sit down on a chair next to me.

- I don't know if you hear me honey, she said after taking a long breath, but I really wanted to tell you that I love you and that I will always love you no matter what.

I hear her sniffle: I know by instinct that she is trying to hold back her tears.

- The last few days have really been tough. she says. For you, and for the members of the family and even more for your father and me. I think I still haven't been able to sleep for over seventy-two hours now.

She takes another deep breath.

- If your eyes were open, you would tell me not to worry, to rest but I can't Muza; I can't ! Watching my two children, my babies, the flesh of my flesh... Like this...

She stops, taking time to dry the tears that must most certainly roll continuously on her cheeks.

- It's just unbearable, she finishes, reaching out her hand to mine and placing it gently on it. Especially since... Somewhere, somewhere, I feel guilty... so guilty. I was the one who pushed you, who convinced you to leave when your brother refused... I should have seen that as a sign but I got stubborn and... Please forgive me darling ! Forgive me !

She bursts into tears but curiously I can't hear them, and that's what's breaking my heart : the silent, almost palpable pain that my mother feels at this moment frightens me and makes me so sad ! The silent pains are, in my opinion, the deepest and the most difficult to heal since you don't really know how far they extend, or how much the person is suffering.

Don't blame yourself mum, it was an accident... it's not your fault !....

I wish I could tell her that out loud ! I wish I could hold her in my arms, and erase her remorse and soothe her pain ! I just wish I could !

But I just can't....

A few days later, my mother came to visit me again, but this time she wanted to show me something, or rather, make me listen to something.

-"Hi Muza".

I immediately recognized the small voice of my little brother.

Benjamin....

- "Are you still asleep?" he asks from the height of his four years. "Mom says it's because you need a rest from... your accident so I hope you're feeling better Muza! I want to do lots of stuff with you! I want to finish building my Lego fire tower! And the princess tower too ! The one that you had when you were four, like me! I want to play space battles with you ! And you have to finish the story of The Lion King! I want to do lots of things. Redo everything. Like before, because... Because I miss you. I miss you and Noah".

Then the recording stops.

If my body could let me cry to evict all this sadness I feel, I would have done it a long time ago....

- Here. I also played the same message to Noah. You are not alone Muza : there is a whole family impatiently awaiting your return. So heal quickly and come back. Come back to real life. Come back to us, come back to us.

Don't worry mom : I'll get there. I will be able to recover from this fucking coma...

Promise.

The next day, the door opens again but this time, it's not my mother :

- Hello Muzelina ! Guess who it is ? It's Aunt Iris !

My Aunt Iris ?! The best aunt in the world ?!

Iris MacGregor is my father's sister, which obviously makes her my aunt. Unlike him, my aunt is not severe or even unsympathetic. On the contrary: she is the best aunt in the world ! With her, you are sure that "babysitting" rhymes with "summer camp" ! She always has ideas and she's so funny on top of that ! She approaches me and sits on the chair placed just in front. I smell several scents of perfume in the room : it's her who brought them in. For my aunt Iris, one perfume is not enough : she has always had to wear perfume with five different scents ! When, as a child, I had asked her why she had to do it, she had always answered me: "It's not an obligation my muse: it's a choice! You also have to know how to respect the diversity of things. »

The dozen bracelets that she's always wearing on her wrists as usual, clash when she moves them. She rests her forearms on the bed and leans into me causing her curly auburn hair to gently tickle my nose.

- So ? How are you, girl ? It's been a while! Of course I would wish I'd seen you and Noah again in other circumstances, but hey ! she exclaims, clapping her hands. Life and its pleasures, what did you expect ? At least, this will allow us to make up for lost time !

She then begins to brag about her life, or at least the recent events that I missed. She varies the subjects one after the other, from the most banal to the most unusual, such as the story of her cat, Pacha, who was found asleep behind the back of her house when he had been missing for a day and half.

- I swear, Muz : cats are vicious ! I already thought so before but now it's official, I'm sure of it ! This cat will drive me crazy !

She stops and lets the silence sweep in which, curiously, seems to go on forever. Usually, my aunt is never at a loss for words: she's a true chatterbox but right, there's nothing.

Well, can we qualify our current situation as something we once thought was "ordinary"?

- It's funny, you know, she finally says.

What is so "funny" ?...

- You are... there ! Lying in front of me, completely inert but alive ! It's... It's like talking to a goldfish : you see, they listen to you with their big, bulging, eyes but in the end they remember anything that you just confessed ! Kinda like you.

She sighs heavily before continuing.

- Except that with the goldfish, we're certain that they listen to us whereas you... I... I don't even know if you hear me, if you're thinking in your little head, if you're missing me... Anyway! I'm going to stop my little spiel and get straight to the point : Muza, honey, you're alive and you're going to stay that way. Because you have to come back to us. You hear me ?

That's when I feel something fall on my closed eyelid.

Tears ?...

Aunt Iris is crying?! As far as I can remember, I've never seen my aunt cry. She's always in a good mood ! She's a real "ray of sunshine", to use my mother's words. I feel her two hands rest on mine.

- Come back, my muse ! She begs me, calling me by my nickname. I miss you. We all miss you ! You hear me ?!

Aunt Iris....

I wish I could answer her : reassure her, tell her that I love her, tell her that I miss her too, that I miss them all ! And above all, that I will return. That I will return among them !

But how can I promise and assure something that does not depend on me ? I am completely powerless. The situation is completely out of my control.

A few days later, it was my four best friends' turn to come to my bedside.

They would usually heckle, laugh, exude joy and happiness, but when they entered the room, there was just a dead silence. I hear the chairs scraping the floor and it's the only noise that disturbs the silence that reigns in the room apart from the repetitive beeps of the cardiogram. I also hear someone blowing their nose and I know right away it's Cynthia : she's always been the most emotional of us.

- Everything is my fault ! she laments.

- Oh come on, stop saying that ! Grumble Margo. You weren't driving the damn car !

- Yes, but if I hadn't invited her, it wouldn't have happened ! She wouldn't have been late and she wouldn't have had to go out !

Margo huffs.

- You know very well that she would have done it anyway!

- She wouldn't have done it and you know it !

- Alright, can you two stop ? Stiles intervenes. Our goal is to show her that we are there for her, to help her wake up, not debate on "whose fault is it"!

Margo and Cynthia calm down.

- And how do we do that ? Cynthia asks.

- Let's tell her the latest high school gossip and our days there. Usually it works, Adam offers.

- Oh yeah ? And where did you see that, dickhead ? Margo asks.

- I don't know : in the series and the movies it seems to work rather well so...

- Wait: in series?! exclaim Margo. You're kidding, right ?

- Why ? 'Cause you have a better idea ? he asks her. If it works in the series, it can work just as well in real life !

- Ah, because you think we are in a movie right now ? Muza would be so glad to hear what you really think of her, that's really nice of you ! "Oh, it's just like in a movie, that's dope ! Margo exclaims, mimicking Adam's male voice.

- You better shut up, Margo, he threatens her.

- Or what ?

- Or I'm kicking both of your asses out of here ! Stiles suddenly exclaims. I already told you that we weren't here to argue and yet, you continue ! Come on guys, seriously ! Don't you have any respect for Muza ? Now either you two shut it up, or speak to say some smart stuff that will serve everyone's interest !

Adam and Margo don't say a word. Stiles sighs deeply before saying that Adam's idea isn't so bad and they have nothing to lose anyway.

The first person to start is Cynthia. First of all, she begins to confuse herself with apologies before telling me about her weekend and how hard it was for her to go back to school. Then follow Adam and Margo who also tell me about their different days in great detail. I learned that Margo hadn't come back to class since the day of my accident and even that a psychological unit had been set up at school at the request of students.

That's due to my brother's popularity....

Meanwhile, Adam continues to go to high school just like Cynthia. But he admits to me that he voluntarily skips certain classes, in particular, and which surprised me, his American football training. Adam is the quarterback of the team: he is therefore one of the essential players in the formation. He is very talented and I even think that he could even manage to obtain an excellent scholarship thanks to that.

But knowing that he doesn't go to training because of me... Gosh I hate that...

- I don't want you to feel guilty. he said. Trust me, you're not: I'm the one who made this decision and if I did it it's 'cause... You used to come... You came all the time to attend my workouts, all the time ! When I entered the field and put on my helmet, as soon as I looked up, it was your face that I saw.. But... You are no longer there and... It's.. I can't do it. For the moment anyway, but I promise, I'll pull myself together, otherwise when you wake up, you might hit me on the head.- I don't want you to feel guilty. he said. Trust me, you're not: I'm the one who made this decision and if I did it it's 'cause... You used to come... You came all the time to attend my workouts, all the time ! When I entered the field and put on my helmet, as soon as I looked up, it was your face that I saw.. But... You are no longer there and... It's.. I can't do it. For the moment anyway, but I promise, I'll pull myself together, otherwise when you wake up, you might hit me on the head.

He squeezes my hand briefly before pulling it away.

I don't know if it will allow me to wake up one day, but hearing them talk like that, telling me about their fears, their doubts, their feelings, their emotions, what they are going through, makes me feel good.

It doesn't make me forget my condition but at least it makes me feel a little less alone. A few minutes later after they all wish me well, the door opens and they walk out. All but one and I know it's Stiles : he always felt he had to protect me, like he owed me something. Out of my four best friends, he is the one I know the most : our mothers became friends soon after I moved here, so we often went on vacation together.

- Forgive them, Muz, he said. They're sad, embarrassed and... They don't know how to react and... The only thing that makes them feel better is acting like dorks.

I know, don't worry Stiles....

- We all love you very much, you know that right ?

He caresses my hand and squeezes it from time to time.

- We love you so much, and we need you. So wake up Muza, please. I love you so much, and the others too.

He leans down and places a kiss on my inert cheek. He gets up, opens the door, sighs and finally leaves.

I love you too Stiles. I love you all....

***

A few days passed and I'm still in this damn artificial coma. I'm still bedridden, with this IV that keeps dripping in the tube attached to my arm, and the annoying beeps from the cardiograph telling me I'm still alive. The days go by and everything looks the same : visiting hours, nurses' care, visiting hours, nurses' care, visiting hours, nurses' care...

Given my total inability to communicate with the outside world, I cannot keep track of time that has passed since my arrival here : everything I'm sure about comes from the nurses that come to check on me every now and then. It's only thanks to them that I manage to situate myself a little bit in this great vagueness that time represents for me.

I wonder how people, who've been in a coma for so many years, managed to bear all this....

I'm literally going to explode : I feel like I'm going crazy !

All the people who come to my bedside carry so much pain and sadness that I almost have the impression that I can touch their distress! Right there on my skin ! All these people complain and beg me to "heal", "to wake up from the coma" and it is mainly this that drives me crazy : I'm doomed to hear them cry about my fate without being able to do anything ! "Muz wake up", "I beg you, get out of the coma".

« Wake up », « Wake up », « Wake up », « Wake up ».....

Everyone in my family has already come at least once. All, except three : Noah, of course, my little brother Benjamin, who we prefer to keep him out of this situation because of his young age, and my father...

Since the day of my hospitalization, he never came to see me again. I know very well that my health worries him but still : the fact that he doesn't even come to see me makes me think that he might feel the opposite ! There are members of my family who have driven over ten hours just to come see me and my father, my own father, who lives nearby, doesn't even come to see me ?!

Just thinking about it breaks my heart....

My mother is the one that comes to see me most : she has always come since the day of my hospitalization. Thanks to her, I stay up to date with the life that continues to unfold around me : my father got a new contract, Benji learns to use a knife and fork properly, our mailbox is overloaded with letters of encouragement, pretty little cards wishing Noah and me a good recovery...... Second place goes to my friends : they come as often as possible even if it's sometimes hard for them because of school. Each time they visit, we go through the same routine, an awkward silence and the story of each of their days. In the end, they apologize and repeat to me how much they love me and want me to wake up.

And there's Stiles....

He comes every time my friends visit, but once the three of them leave, he is the only one who stays with me a little longer. Sometimes he speaks, other times he doesn't, preferring to remain silent and strangely this silence, his silence, doesn't bother me. Every time he's leaving he squeezes my hand, tells me he loves me and he kisses me on the forehead or on the cheek.

Stiles and I are very affectionate with each other : we often hug, we cuddle in each other's arms, we often go out together and sometimes I even kiss him on the cheek and so does he, but our relationship is just a strong friendship : there's absolutely nothing between the two of us. Our friendship intrigues a lot of people, including our three other best friends : for them, it's not a regular thing to be so close to one another, without having any feelings involved. I don't care what they say : Me and Stiles are just friends and that's fine with me.

Right ?....

Later the same day, I was surprised to hear the doctor in charge of my case coming into my room. I also recognized my mother's voice when the door opened.

- Should we wait for your husband or can I begin the diagnosis ? he asks.

- No, my husband won't be able to make it here. So please start. answers my mother

- Alright ! So, the recovery of your daughter is on the right track, Mrs MacGregor : the different tests and scanners reveal the presence of a strong cerebral activity, which is really an excellent thing.

- So that means that Muza hears us when we talk to her ? She can think ? she rejoices, her voice taking a perky tone.

- Yes, that may be the case, says the doctor. It's almost been ten days since we placed your daughter in a coma, nine days to be more precise, and given her encouraging results, we can consider preparing to wake her up early. Very soon even.

- Oh ! That's wonderful ! exclaims my mother.

Wake me up ? I'll finally be able to open my eyes ?!....

Suddenly, I feel a sag next to my pillow, as if someone had leaned on the corner of the bed.

- Do you hear that darling ? my mother rejoices. You can wake up honey ! You'll finally open your eyes, just like Noah did !

Wait.. what do you mean " just like Noah did" ?...

Did the nurses wake him up before me ? He managed to come out of his coma ?

How did he do that ?...

- But, warns the doctor, do not rejoice too soon Mrs. MacGregor : I said that we'll "consider" waking her up. Muzelina will still have to fight for a while but if she continues her efforts, she can make it. Just like her brother.

Excuse me ?!...

- Of course ! But it's coming soon ! I'm so relieved !

You hear that honey ? You'll come back to us very soon. To us all ! And everyone is eager to see you healthy and awake !

She brushes a strand of my hair off of my face and caresses my cheek as she passes.

- You look so peaceful : like you're sleeping but I'm so happy you'll soon be able to fully open your eyes !

But I'm not sleeping, mom !....

I'm in a fucking artificial coma and I still have to stay that way for God knows how long ! What else can I do ? Why did Noah wake up and not me ? How did he do it ? Why him and not me ? Where did he find the strength to wake from his fucking coma ? How ? Why ?

- The whole family wants you back home, honey, she said, kissing me all over my cheek. Everyone.

Oh really ? Are you sure Dad feels the same ?....

Does my father really want me back ? Is he even thinking about me? Even a little bit ? Or does he still only cherish his damn job and the bloody money he's making out of it ?

The whole time I've been in here, stuck in this bed, my dad didn't even bother to come see me, tell me, why do I need to wake up ? So that I still go unnoticed by him after all this shit ? So that he won't even pay a little more attention to me ? Except when it concerns school : dear Sir finally thinks he can give me advice, or well I'd rather say orders ! He never listens to me, doesn't even consider my hobbies or my friends : the only thing that matters to him is his reputation, and obviously, I must have the best behavior, to not bring him any shame, unlike Noah, who has a fun time doing it ! To do so, I must join the best university in the country, so that I could make his name reign everywhere I go ! I would be a ghost, right?

Of course : in spite of having his three children enrolled in good universities, well, two are more than enough !....

Poor Benji : His education will be a damn hell after mine and Noah's.

I've always been a good student. I've always done everything to make my parents proud and what do I get ? My father snub me, even when I need him the most ! Seriously : Am I just a ghost to them ?!

Oh, and I forgot Noah ! Noah who's a bad student, Noah who always gets noticed, Noah who's doing anything he wants... Noah managed to wake up and not me ?! Why ? Why ?!

Suddenly my calm breath is turning into pants, the repetitive and jerky noises of the cardiograph are more urgent, more regular. My mother panicked and called the doctor. He calls the nurses who arrive in great rush and notice my condition. They try to push my mother away, who refuses to go away.

- No ! No, let me go, please ! It's my daughter ! My only daughter ! Let me go, please ! Please ! Muz, fight honey ! Please don't go ! Muz ! Muz !

Her cries, her plaintive shrieks disappear behind two soundproof doors. This heavy noise resounds in my ears like the sound of a funeral gals who annonces my time to go.

I've been taken to another room which I assume to be a resuscitation room. I feel around me and I hear the nurses running around : they undress me and apply two kinds of metal objects to my chest soaked with oils that send electric shocks through my body.

At the first discharge: nothing.

At the second discharge: still nothing.

During the third discharge, still nothing too: I gave no sign of life.

The counter of the cardiograph emits a strident and prolonged bip, but the doctors don't stop : they persevere and continue and try to save me.

After I-don't-know-how-many discharge, the nurses stop everything at the request of the doctor who had followed me in here.

- Stop, stop everything, put everything away... It's too late, he said wearily. We couldn't save her. Time of death : 8 p.m ; zero zero.

I hear sad and resigned sighs of those who tried everything to revive me.

Hey ! Wait, please, don't give up ! You failed to revive my body, but I'm still here ! My mind is still working ! Hey !....

But... who could hear the inner complaints of a dead young girl ?

Wait, wait !....

I feel like a bird stuck in a cage : no matter how hard I hit and howl with all my might against my body, no one will ever listen to me ! It's like I'm banging against a window, a window that would allow me to join the outside world but doesn't break despite all my desperate attempts !

A few moments later, I feel that I am moved again, this time settling on a wheeled metal object. They roll me to another room and I immediately feel a total difference... It's so much colder here. They move me again on a long metal plank. I feel them cover my naked body and my head with it.

So, that's it....

I'm dead.

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Author's comment : 

Second chapter posted !

Your opinion ? Impressions ? 

Muza's desire to watch over Noah ? While she's in a pretty bad state herself ?

Her stay at the hospital ?

The tenderness and love of her loved ones ? From her mother ? From Stiles ? From her aunt ?

The lack of reaction from her father ?

What do you think overall ?

Don't hesitate to vote, leave a comment ! Good reading !

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Translator's comment :

....Yeah, so.... it takes a hell of a time, but I promise you, I'll be able to translate more !

(7233 words)

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