I am not dead.

"KEIRA!!"

I know that for sure.

"COME BACK!!!"

Dead can't feel. I can.

I can feel the dusty dry air entering and pushing out of my lungs. I can feel my eyelids restricting access to the outer world, caught in my own little cage.

I can feel the linen on top of me and the soft, crisp sheets beneath me. I feel the odd feeling of an IV in my arm, though unwelcome I would be dead without it.

I feel the exhaustion of a heavy, lead filled body and the weight of it.

I can feel so much, I am alive but I was dead.

I remember the ripping sensation and the pain of the needles, the ball of lightning that ended me, and I specifically remember the ache of the ones I love crying.

I feel.

I can feel.

I must feel.

"WE HATE YOU SO COMMEE BACKK!!

I don't want to feel.

12 days. I can't move, all I can do is hear, feel, breathe. Think. Ponder.

So I'd think. Imagine my old family, but then after I would hurt I have to think something else. My new family, but that hurt too. I remembered the letters and everything and I think I understand why they hate me. But I can't come back to them. I made a deal and just by thinking of the deal, I feel the demon stir in my stomach. Being totally useless and unresponsive when I actually need her.

It hard to find something that doesn't hurt to think about. Especially when confusion fear and pain are friendly guests with your cerebral cortex, and so even though you are alive you are a prisoner to your bodies own weakness. It feels like I have been ripped out of my body the pasted back in by a toddler.

I settle most days for sleeping, but that truly only lasts 8 maybe 10 hours. I tune into my surroundings.

I know what time it is by the feel of the sun on my skin, I know the weather by the humidity and the taste of the air. I can tell its late fall by the scent of leaves and the dry smell of the old creaking bark.

There is a medic or someone of that type that comes every morning. It is a she, I smell her perfume, like soft petals. As she checks my IV and my pulse and straightens my sheets and pillows. The scent of the indigo ink and the scritch scratch of pen on paper, she writes my information on a clipboard then quickly hurries out. The tap of her feet and the swish of the thin door behind her alerting me so.

There is also a maid, she comes twice a day, after the nurse and once in the evening. She wears softer baby powder smell that delights me when she enters. I like her very much, she is very sweet and hums to me, brushing my hair and stroking my face. The first time she came I wanted to flinch but she hummed softly and just fixed my hair, even cleaning it. Sometimes she talks to me, where as the others just do there stuff and leave

"My name is Mizuro" she told me that first day, my mind tense. "My Gran, bless her, told me as a girl, that the long-sleeping ones like you don't really sleep. You can hear and such, but your brain won't let you move and interact." She moved something metal and big, as known by the large Ching sound it made, closer behind my head. At that time I was frantic, I had know idea what was going on and my senses weren't as finely tune as they are now.

I heard a splashing noise and felt warm water touch my scalp. "What gorgeous hair, it is so soft and much lighter than mine. How beautiful." She cooed, running her fingers through my hair slowly.

I felt a cooler thicker liquid being massaged into my brown locks, shampoo. As she worked on cleaning my hair, she sang. It was a fable, an old faun had tried to catch a nymph, then got caught and tricked by the nymph. She swished him into a gnarled old Oak tree, leaving him to stretch his branches out, always in search of that nymph, pulling and making his bark gross and dry, keeping others from ever touching him.

It was vague, short and only a tale to keep children in line but to me it was was wonderful. Her voice was soft and harmonious and added a strange sound of hope into such a tempestuous tale. She sung it only at night, where as morning she hums, our own special routine.

6 days after meeting (having become familiar with each other, or more like, I had become familiar with her)"I have a daughter, her name is Kayatora. She is not as old as you, no, but is very innocent and adorable. She is as pure as snow, but can weasel out of any chore" she giggled then sighed. "I really hope you can wake up soon miss, I think you would like Kiya. She would certainly like you. " She dried my hair and brushed it, now straightening my clothing. "Master also wishes you wake up, he awaits your arrival ever so eagerly. Always coming and bothering me, he is one little spitfire for sure. Not anything like his father."

I don't like that, anyone waiting on me. "He is such a sweet boy though, always sharing sweets and his desserts with the servant staff. We all practically raised him ourselves, his mother is neglecting and his father only really wants a descendant." She laughed, surprising me. "Oh will you look at that. A silly old mother just blabbering on, sorry to bother you dear. I shan't speak nonsense. " No, I love to listen. Will you still speak to me please? Don't leave me! I pushed all my will power to my body, I lacked energy but I tried to do something, anything.

My fingers twitched, my mouth parted its dry lips, a stinging pain as I tried to move them. "No, I like..listen" my voice was weak and rough from no use for so long.

She gasped and fell backwards, soon hopping forward again.

"Oh child! Your poor dear, you truly are aware then!!" I felt more exhausted than usual and I felt a low ache poke at my brain. "Can you talk? Will you say something for me please?!" She begged but I only weakly tapped my fingers on the futon I was laid in and she cried out. "Oh you poor thing! I am so sorry, that must have hurt." She touched my cracked and slightly bleeding lips. I foreword my brows and she pulled her hand back, picking my hand up just as quickly. "This is great news! Maybe you are to wake soon! I should tell Lord..!" she made a move to go but I clutched her hand tightly.

I peaked my eyes open a little and gazed pleadingly at her, imploring her with my eyes.

Please, don't say, I am scared.

"Oh, I see. Let it be our secret then. " Wrinkles crinkled her blue eyes, pulling a soft weathered motherly face into a grin. I closed my eyes and relaxed my hand, a breathe of tire escaping my lips.

She held my hand and stroked my hair until I fell asleep, singing that lullaby in the dark to me. I am so exhausted from only that small extortion.

Oh little faun, dancing willows

How they tease you

How their taunts prick.

Such a sweet beauty saves

Once helps, leaving quick

Taking your heart with you

Why can't you follow now?

Your roots ground you

They reach for her

Time passes, can you

Can you take the pain away?

Can you save again?

Because I have failed tonight

I was tricked, by my own mind wishes

Why can't I follow?

Follow my love, I wish.

Why can I not follow?