Fuck.

My head throbbed as I heard my mom scream bloody murder.

"Harold, she's moving!" 

I heard the door fling open followed by a march of footsteps. 

"H-her fingers," my mom said between sniffles "they moved." 

The nurses, I assume, told my parents to wait outside as they brought their equipment closer. I don't think anyone realized that I could hear them, because they didn't bother explaining what the fuck I was doing in a hospital. 

I tried moving my legs, but it was a futile attempt. My head swirled in a tornado of thoughts. Was I paralyzed? How long had I been unconscious? And most importantly, when would the doctors explain this to me? 

I tried using what little strength I had to open my eyes, but it was once again, a short-lived attempt as within a few seconds, my eyes shut back. 

"Can you hear us?" I heard someone say. 

I nodded my head slightly in response. 

"Can you tell us your name?" 

"I-Irene Henderson" My voice rasped. Some water would be great.

"Good, and what are your parents' names?" She continued. 

"Harold and Ruth Henderson," I replied, irritated. Were my parents' names important right now?

"Excellent," The nurse said, either not getting or ignoring the hint. "Can you lift your left hand for me?" 

My fingers quivered as I attempted to raise my entire hand. 

"Ok, stop, stop." The nurse said. "that'll be enough for now." 

"Take rest," Another doctor said. "We'll come to check in on you in a few hours." 

I wanted to shout at them, and demand answers, but my body was too tired and I found myself slipping back to sleep.

Fortunately, this time I wasn't awoken by my mother's ear-splitting screeches. In fact, I'm not even sure what woke me up this time.

"Irene, baby, are you okay?" my mom asked slowly. 

"I don't know, am I?" I snapped back. Did they not realize that I didn't understand anything happening around me?

"We know this is a lot for you, Irene, but be patient with us," Dad said. 

I breathed deeply, unsure how to reply. What exactly was this?

"I know, I just-" I was cut off by the same march of footsteps. Oh great, they were back.

"How is she doing ma'am?" 

"Good, I suppose, she hasn't moved since you left." my mom responded, and I could feel her looking at me with sorrow. 

"How are you feeling, Irene?" The same nurse asked.

"Good, I guess" I replied uncertainly. What was I supposed to say? 

"Ok, can you raise your left hand for me?" She asked once again.

I did as told, and made much more progress this time.

"Amazing, now do the same for your other hand."

I did, impressing even myself. 

"Perfect, now can you open your eyes?" She asked. 

I nodded and compelled my orbicularis oculi muscles to function and made a little progress. My eyelids fluttered.

"Keep going," The nurse encouraged. But I couldn't. My eyelids closed back. 

The doctor sighed and said, "try again"

And so I did. Multiple times until I finally got them to open.

Everything was blurry for a few seconds until my eyes adjusted focus. The first thing I saw was the familiar eagle logo of Crystal Falls. It was supposed to represent truth, prosperity and wisdom. Pathetic. My head slowly tilted, to where my parents stood. My mom had her hair tied in a low bun and her face looked much older than what I recall. Her once dimpled cheeks were now covered in wrinkles. My dad looked exactly as I remembered - crew cut, black dye to hide his age, a simple tee and black pants. 

 "Very good, Irene. I'm so proud of you." The nurse said. "Now, can you tell me how many fingers I'm holding?" 

"Emma," The doctor said, placing a hand on her shoulder. "Irene's visually impaired. She can't see you" 

"Oh," The nurse flushed with embarrassment. 

"Two," I said. 

For a moment, the whole room went silent as they stared at her. 

"Irene," Her dad said with widened pupils. "What did you just say?"

"Two," I reiterated, looking directly at my parents "The nurse held up two fingers." 

"Irene, look at me," The doctor said, shifting my gaze towards him. "What colour is my hair?" 

"You don't have hair" I responded and the doctor's pupils widened as well. 

"Emma," he said, turning towards the nurse. "Bring her to the ophthalmology room."

Emma nodded her head fervently as she and some other nurses began wheeling my bed out of the room.

"What's going on?" I asked, looking at Emma. She just shrugged in response and continued moving the bed. 

As we moved down the hallway, I stared at the faces of other attendants and they stared back at me in complete shock. Did they also know about the accident?

"Looks like the Hendersons' daughter is awake" One whispered.

"It's been long enough. I almost thought they'd have to put her down." The other whispered back.

Put me down? As in euthanasia? How long was I out that people had begun to consider such vile options? 

Once again, I looked at Emma, who seemed to have heard the same thing but didn't say anything. This is exactly why I despise hospitals, everyone knows everything, except the patient. 

We finally reached the room; another doctor was already ready with his equipment. 

"Irene, can you sit up?" he asked calmly. I hesitated.

"It's ok, the nurses will assist you," he said. Emma and another nurse held my arms as I sat up.

"Good, now look up," he said. After I did so, he put a flashlight in front of my eyes and began tilting my head in every direction. Then, he put his flashlight aside.

"Irene, I know you don't remember my face, but I'm Dr Wyatt. Your parents brought you to me after you lost your vision." 

I nodded. "I remember your voice."

"Ok, now your parents have gone home to bring your old files. While they do that, we're going to take some tests." He continued. 

Honestly, I didn't know why he bothered telling me all of this. To tune out his yapping, I looked around the room hoping to find something interesting. On the corner of the wall, I saw a digital clock.

12:53 PM

I tilted my head a little higher to see the date. 7th May 2023. Wait, 2023? That can't be right.

A cold spider-like touch ran up and down my spine as the air got caught in my throat. It had been years since I had last woken up. Not one, not two, but five fucking years. 

"Irene, are you ok?" Emma asked. I tried to respond, but couldn't. Nothing but a weak croak came out of my throat. 

"What's wrong?" Wyatt asked, dropping his equipment. 

"What year is it?" I managed to say, between heavy breaths. Maybe the clock was just malfunctioning. It has happened in my house more times than I can count with my fingers.

 Emma and Wyatt both looked uncomfortable. "Irene," Emma said "it's 2023. You've been in a coma for five years." 

No. It couldn't be true. But it was. I had lost five years of my life. Five fucking years.