I know, I know, I know! I'm a bad person. But I've been struggling with writer's block, and I'm working on an original story for wattpad!
Have you ever wondered what kind of supernatural creatures exist? Roaming the earth, never been, or heard. That's how she felt. No, she wasn't a vampire or werewolf. But she felt like a ghost. Transparent in the dark, dark world in her head. A pit of black space, seeming to stretch far out, but still seeming limited. Step after step, wanting to reach the end, only to find herself even farther than before. Trapped all by herself, she had never felt more alone. But loneliness is subjective, is it not? Perhaps it is a blanket wrapped around the insecurities, a wall against betrayal and evil. She wanted to run, she wanted to hide, but her will was stripped away.
He groggily tried to rub the sleep from his eyes. Hospital chairs were not comfortable. Will Schuester stretched his legs and stood up in search of some caffeine. It was the end of a long week, each day he rushed to the hospital after work. Yes, Quinn wasn't the best singer, or the nicest of them all, but they were a family. Will required each member to visit her at least once a week. He was utterly shocked at how little support they were showing her. This was her fifth day comatose, in the ICU. Her injuries were quite severe, and it seemed that nobody, not even her biological family really cared for her. Staring at her face, Will really thought she was beautiful ( in a non-creepy way). Long blonde hair framed her delicate face. Her ivory skin was dotted with random bruises and cuts. The heavy weight of the white cast seemed uncomfortable on her left arm. An oxygen mask hung over her mouth and nose. Clear tubes ran along her arm, dripping morphine into her. It really was tragic. Will was genuinely in awe of her. The paramedics got to her because she had called for help. The bastard that hit her just drove away without dialing 911.
Will glanced at his wrist watch. It was already seven o'clock. Emma was probably waiting for him to eat dinner. He stood up and walked out of the hospital. Will started his car and popped in an old Journey CD that he's had forever, and sang his worries away.
Two days had passed. It was Sunday afternoon, about 3:15. One by one, the glee kids started spilling into Quinn's hospital room. Mr. Schuester made them visit her all together this week. Clearly, most of them had better things to do. Grumbling, and complained filled the room.
"I have a paper due tomorrow!" Tina cried.
"Time is money. I could be rehearsing right now." Rachel shrieked.
"The weather is so nice. I was gonna play football!" Finn explained.
"I have a test tomorrow!" Mike complained.
Everyone pitched in their complaints, One by one, excuses poured out. Mr. Schuester was getting seriously pissed.
"Everyone SHUT UP!" I'm tired of all your complaints? We are a FAMILY. That means being there for one of your members when she is in a coma. Do you even realize she might never wake up? She could be dead, and you guys won't even take an hour to visit her? Stop pitying yourself! We don't even know how she'll be if she wakes up."
All of their mouths closed immediately. They apologetically hung their heads. Artie stared at Quinn. What was this feeling? Relief? How could he feel this when she was in a coma? Maybe deep down, he was glad that he had someone. After the whole Tina incident, he needed someone like him: an outsider. When she woke up, Artie knew that she would be just like him: Broken, helpless, and lonely. Suddenly, her finger twitched. "Guys, I think she's waking up!" Artie exclaimed.
They all rushed forward to her bed and watched as her eyes slowly began to open. Piercing light flooded the slits her eyes had allowed. God, it felt like her eyes had been sealed with superglue. As the images in front of her slowly focused, she felt extremely confused. A swarm of people were crowding around her. Quinn tried to prop herself up, and some middle-aged man rushed to her assistance.
"Quinn?"
"Omigod. It's awake."
"Are we sure that's like actually her and not some alien?"
"Shut up Puck! You're stupid."
The middle aged was way too close for comfort. He repeatedly asked her the same question. Quinn opened her mouth, then closed it.
"OMG. What if her brain got liked damaged, and she can't talk?" A blonde girl cried.
"I think you're supposed to like ask her trivia questions so the brain doesn't shrink! Asian! Ask her something." The scary guy with peculiar hair shrieked. The Asian girl racked her brain for some useless knowledge.
"Who was the eleventh president? Vice president? When did he serve?"
A girl with blunt bangs rolled her eyes, and sighed. "Tina! Nobody would know that! You don't even know the answer to that!" she said snottily.
The Asian girl pulled out her phone and waved it in the elf's face. "That's what phones are for, obviously!"
The group turned towards Quinn. They were all worrily wondering what would happen. She couldn't seem to comprehend anything. As everyone started to give up hope on her Quinn opened her mouth. "Two things, first of all, James K. Polk, George Dallas, March 4th, 1845. It was a.." She paused for a second, and squinted, as if she was calculating a math problem. " Tuesday. And secondly, who the heck are you guys?"
DUN DUN DUNNNN. Stay tuned for the next update!
~A.B.
