"Wake up," said the sweet voice of my mother.
"Wake up," she said again, shaking me.
"I'm dead. What's the rush. You can wake me up next year."
She laughed, "you're not dead."
"Yes, I am."
"I need to send you home. You're still breathing."
"No," I argued.
"You're still alive," she said. "Do me a favor and open your eyes."
"What about you?"
"I'll be here in your dreams... and in your heart." She whispered the last part to me, that I almost couldn't here it.
"Wake up," she started again, but her voice sounded unfamiliar.
"Wake up," the boy's voice was familiar again.
"I know you'll be awake, you have to be." But this time the voice was Caleb's. My eyes fluttered open... wide open and alive.