by Emily Gee

Created on: June 01, 2008

Edward knew the second he woke up that he was dead. Everything was quiet, too quiet, like the rest of the world was going on as normal somewhere, but was behind that plexi-glass stuff that muffled all the sounds.

He sat up, or at least part of him did the part that had been shaken loose by the accident perhaps. A watery shaft of sunlight was shining through the slightly grimy hospital window, pooling on his lap. He waved one hand through it and was a little disturbed at the way it cast no shadow.

He swung his legs over the side of the bed and stood up. His body remained where it was on the thin cot. It was strange seeing himself from this angle, not at all like looking in a mirror. He could see now the angry red line snaking like a fissure from his left temple into his hairline and knew this was probably what had killed him. He could vaguely remember that side of his head striking the frame of the car, the feel of the glass raining down on him, the cold air rushing in, followed a moment later by the even colder water.

Aside from that, though he didn't look too bad. If it hadn't been for the tangle of wires flowing in and out of his body, he could have simply been sleeping.

He followed the path of one wire up to the machine it fed. On a small dark screen, his heartbeat was recorded in a series of abstract spikes. It was slow and steady, kept that way by the respirator hissing air into his lungs. If it hadn't been for those he would be dead already.

But the machines were doing their job, keeping his heart beating, keeping his body alive. Which made his current situation a little stranger than he had originally thought. He wasn't technically dead. He was in a coma. So why was part of him suddenly walking around all by itself?

He climbed back onto the bed and lay down, hoping that he would remerge with his body somehow and this nightmare would be over. Nothing happened and when he sat up again, his body remained where it was.

Disappointed, he walked out into the corridor. It was quiet out here too, but he could see a small cluster of nurses at one end of the hallway, talking quietly amongst themselves. He walked towards them, already feeling a cold hard lump of dread forming in his stomach.

He walked right up to the closest one and waved his hand in front of her face. She didn't even flinch. He tried to touch her, but his hand passed clean through, leaving a tingling sensation up his arm but obviously leaving the nurse unmoved.

The lump of dread in his stomach

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