Comatose

My eyes opened as the cool air from the window blew across me. The sun shone like a ray of hope across the white hospital sheets. I watched as the nurse came in quietly. She smiled at me. I guess to comfort me, to make me think that things were going to be alright. I hoped that they were, but they showed no signs of improving. My friend, this pale faced man lay in bed, his long black hair resting on the pillow case. I stared at him waiting for a twitch, a cough, a wink, something that tells me that he was still alive. Why wasn’t I there? Why did it happen to him? Who did this to him?
4 days ago, we were out playing a game of basketball. He beat me 12-10 on a hot streak that was uncharacteristically like him. He laughed and said “better luck next time sport.” I told him that he was lame because no one says sport nowadays. He smiled in that cocky way that he always smiles when I tease him. We went into the locker room. I reached up to grab the locker and he laughed. “I wonder who has the key” he says to me smirking. I had forgotten that we shared a locker. After we changed, we drove off our separate ways. We were going to meet at the house so I could beat him in our Saturday video game marathon. I waited for about an hour for him to show up or at least call. I called his cell. The same song played on the ring back, love lockdown. I always told him that Kanye wasn’t that great of an artist. He would always smile and start singing some random Kanye ditty that was on the radio. He never let my teasing get to him. I called him 4 more times over the next two hours. The same song, the same result happened over and over again. Later that day I got a call from the hospital, it seemed that I was listed as his emergency contact. I walked into the hospital doors and was hit by the lovely aroma of Lysol and sickness that floats through every hospital. I told the plump front desk nurse who I was and she escorted me to the hospital room. There was my friend lying on the bed with a bloody bandage around his head and cuts up and down his arms and legs.
“What happened” I asked to the blond haired nurse that escorted me in.
“The police officer that brought him in said that he was involved in a hit and run. They think the assailant was drunk and forced him into the concrete side rail. He was ejected from his car. He is lucky to be alive.”
“Oh my god, it's going to be ok. Do they know who did this?”
“Umm no they don’t know who it was yet and…..”
“Is he sedated?”
“I’m sorry he is in a coma.”
I tried to fight the tears welling up in my eyes; but, I couldn’t. I stood there trying not to look at this woman and cried. The salty liquid streamed down my cheeks leaving wet spots on the front of my shirt. “I need to be strong”, I thought to myself, “What would Charles say if he saw me like this.” As I stood there cheeks wet, the nurse handed me a tissue and quietly left the room. She left me alone to stare at my comatose friend.
I went home that night and lay on the couch until my girlfriend came home. I tried to hide my hurt and my fear from her, but it didn’t work. She touched me gently on my back and asked if I was alright. I told her about Charles. “Oh that so sad, I hope he recovers,” she said and then she got up and went to the bathroom. Again I was left alone.
Everyday I visited hoping to see some sort of improvement. I knew that that the longer that he stays in the coma the more likely he will not recover from it. His body stayed lifeless everyday. I talked to him for hours on end. If he was awake he would have asked me when did I get so chatty. I never was one for garrulousness, but I felt that if he just had someone that was there for him he would wake up. I knew that his family would not come. His immediate family died when he was 17 and he had been disowned by the rest of his family on the eve of him going to college. I remember meeting him while I was moving into the dorms. He wasn’t that big of a dude, about 5’8 and 150 pounds wet. He was moving a bunch of boxes by himself to the next room over. I offered to help him, thinking that this would be a way to meet some more people in the dorm. I didn’t care that he was white and I was black. I was just thinking that a normal person would offer to help. After I helped him, he offered to help me move my stuff and we talked. We had similar interests; we both played basketball in high school, liked war video games and John Grisham books. It has been 6 years since we have been friends. As he was lying there, I couldn’t help to think that it was ending too quickly.
Now it was the fourth day I have came to see him. Everyday I felt like the bed was slowly swallowing him, taking him from me. I wanted to make the bed stop. I wanted to hear him again, but I couldn’t do anything about it.
“What do you want to talk about today? How about me; although, we always talk about me. I have been having some problems with my girlfriend lately. She seems cold to me, like she is hiding something. She doesn’t look at me the same way that she did before. She doesn’t even question me. Isn’t that odd for a woman not to question her man. Maybe it’s me. Maybe I am not doing something. Maybe she knows that I am not who she thinks I am. You always told me that I would be happier if I was myself. I just don’t think I can be myself around her….Man, I wish that you would give me some advice.”
The cold blank look on his face told me that I was not going to get any answers. Even now, I knew that I would care a lot less if it was her on this bed.
“I need to tell her…..Don’t I”
In the hospital parking lot, I dialed her number. The phone rang back a melodious Ciara. “One-two step, one- two step.” She didn’t answer. “Maybe she is busy”, I thought to myself. I drove home through the traffic laden highway stopping to pick up some moo moo gai pan and sweet and sour pork for dinner. I arrived at her house and saw her black civic in the driveway. I walked past the car, but there was something different. There was a big dent on the passenger side of the car that looked to be cleaned off. “She must have got into an accident, but she hasn’t told me anything about it.” I thought to myself.
I walked in the house into her kitchen and told her that I brought food. She walked in calmly and smiled innocently at me.
“Hey, I saw the dent in the car. Are you ok? What happened?”
Her mood suddenly darkened as she opened her mouth to reply. “This jackass hit my car in the parking lot at work and drove off. I came out of work a couple days ago and found it like this.”
“Sorry to hear that. Well at least you are ok.” I felt the tears burrow their way to the surface of my face as I thought about Charles lying in the hospital. I knew that I had to leave. I couldn’t sit there in her house without thinking of Charles. There were just too many things that she didn’t know and I didn’t know what effect it would have on her if she found out. I told her that I had to go and walked back outside. Just as I was about to get in my car, she came to the door. “I know about you two; you can just drop the façade.” I stood there quietly, not knowing how to reply. So I just said, “Well then that’s that. I guess it’s over between us. How long have you known?” “Long enough”, she replied back as she turned, slammed and locked her door. “Great. Now, I really am alone.” I thought to myself.
I started my car and drove back to the hospital. The rain outside echoed my state of mind. When I arrived, there were two policemen waiting by Charles’ room. “Hello Mr. Davis. We have some information regarding Mr. Anderson. A witness to the accident said that they saw a black civic smash into Mr. Anderson’s car. We are currently looking for a black civic with a dent in the passenger side door or fender. However, with the common make and model of the car it is highly doubtful that we will find the person who did this”
Just as the policeman made it to the end of the hall, a shrill beep blared out of the room. “Nurse, nurse, someone…..please”, I screamed at the top of my lungs. The cacophony of people running into the room was drowned out by that beep and straight red line reading off of the heart monitor. “Clear!” they yelled as they put the steel pads on Charles’ chest. The electricity surged through his body as he tensed up. A thump and then a flat line again. “Clear!” they yelled again and again his body jumped but still no constant heart beat. His face still cold looking and eerily peaceful. It was like a dream and all at once it was over. The nurses all left and there I was, staring at my friend, my lover. I guess it was the shock, but I couldn’t cry anymore.
I left the hospital into the cold and dreary night that laid waiting for me. There was nothing I could do anymore. There was nothing I wanted more, but just to have him back with me again. I started my car, while Luther’s “a house is not a home” played softly on the radio. “It’s funny how the world turns towards your mood, if you’re having a bad day it progressively gets worse. It’s like there is a universal law that robs people of happiness and places them back into the melancholy of life.” I spoke to the radio that was taunting my sadness and sanity. “It’s her fault. I saw the dent. She knew about us. I bet she was the one who did this.” Dark thoughts rang like the independence bell in my head. I merged onto the highway and headed straight to her house. Every note on the radio played some stupid love song that I knew I would never feel again. That I could never feel again. The car drifted through the dreary night. The highway was clear except a dark colored car behind me.
Two turns before the exit the dark car sped up. “Wham!” My head jerked forward as I almost lost control of the car. I spent my head back to see he car coming at me again. I tried to slam on the breaks but it was too late. “Wham!” The dark car was grinding the side of my car and forcing me into the guide rail. I tried to turn against the other car and push it back onto the highway, but to no avail. One last push and my car spun out. The world went spiraling around me as the car started to then flip. Concrete, sky, concrete sky, concrete. The car finally stopped. I sat there bloody and trapped. The top of the car was pressing against my head and the steering wheel was caught on my lap. I looked up at my left hand and saw a shard of glass the size of a baseball lodged into my wrist. I tried to move my right hand, but the pain seized control of the muscles causing it to lie helpless. My whole body hurt and the world comprised only of concrete, glass and pain. It started to get darker. I thought to myself that there should be some white light and my life should flash before my eyes, but all that happened was pain. I heard a siren in the distance and some muddled words. All I wanted to do was close my eyes. I felt them getting drowsier and drowsier. The pain was dimming a little, just enough for me to close my eyes. It felt good and quiet, so I closed my eyes.