Jay woke me up.
I could feel it in my veins, in my bones. He was there, with me. I know this as clearly as the fact that the sun is yellow and around his iris is a thin circle of a color that reminds of corroded copper, which expands whenever his instincts claim control over his body.
The secret mark of the Beast inside of Jay.
Just as clearly as I know that I have changed. Not just in character, not just through experience. I am not only not the person who I was anymore: I am not the same human anymore.
I cannot say that they have changed me. Physically, I seem to be just as human as before: not stronger, not more arduous, not more efficient, and definitely not beastlier.
At least, that is how I feel.
Still, I am different. I seem different to my own perception, and I know that I am not the same before I was put into this coma. All I know is that something is different, I am different. Something is missing. And that is the only thought I am willing to think.
Because it feels cold, and empty.
These few words are already too many. And they feel wrong.
All I know, what I really know, is that Jay woke me up.
Jay is the reason why I am awake again.
Even though I am not sure if I even want to be awake again, or that I want to be still alive.
Because I feel... I feel dead inside.
It took me four days to even move. And I am not sure if it was the coma wearing off, or if it was me.
Four days. Four days of painless pain.
I could sense my body slowly aching, but I didn't feel anything. As if it was something remembered on the verge between being awake and asleep, not really knowing whether it is part of a dream or reality.
Lying awake and staring at the ceiling was something I really felt used to, and feel used to right now. Especially when no one is around and the monitor noises are switched off. Well, at least those which have a switch.
Everything else is just... noisy and loud. It hurts in my ears. Sometimes, not all the time, because I remember them. They are familiar to me. I have-not only heard them in the last four days, but in the days before.
I can't tell since when, but I know them, recognize them, just as if you are visiting a place you have been to several times. Even though you are not aware of all the sounds, smells and sensations, you would instantly know if something has changed, but you wouldn't be able to put a finger on it.
I do know. Precisely.
Just as I do know that Jay was here.
Every single day. If not in body then at least in mind.
I don't know if I miss him.
What I know is that the thought of precariousness pains me. Why shouldn't I miss him? Or why should I?
I think that might be the reason why I woke up at all. As in: really woke up. As in: moving my limbs on my own and not by some doctor.
My muscles feel sore, but not un-used.
Shouldn't I need therapy for this?
Or did they do these massages and exercises while I was asleep as well? It would make sense, wouldn't it.
I found my old diary and this one on the table next to my bed, but I can't recall when I got them. I can't recall that I've looked at them either.
My memory is foggy. I think I was able to move long before I was able to think clearly again, think consciously again. And it had nothing to do with myself. Watching my hand move the pen across this paper almost feels surreal. I feel surreal. As if I am still half asleep.
I remember them bringing a third diary though. And that one… I instantly knew, was not mine. The third one is his. I feel like I can smell him lingering between those pages and this thought is unsettling. How could I come up with that if I'm not able to catch a scent. It has to be my imagination.
What else is?
Maybe I'm not awake at all? Maybe I'm still in a coma, unconsciously lying there, a prisoner within myself.
What it none of this was ever real? What if all of this was just part of my imagination?
I could have been in an accident. This kidnapping I remember could have been me being run over and all the pain I've experienced as a result just has been explained by my imagination through this horrific tale.
Is all of this a dream? A nightmare? Am I even awake?
I came back to read through all of your reviews and comments of my story and I can't really express how grateful I am for your support.
It's thanks to you that I have finally started to publish stories under my pen name D. S. Wrights.
This entry is the first entry of the third part of The Beast And Me: The Beast In Us.
If for whatever reason you didn't know about The Beast And Me being rewitten and edited and published - and even if you know about it - please contact me via info , and give me your kindle-email address. Make sure that my email-address is an enabled sender to your kindle, and I will send you both already published books for free. The third part is due in December this year.
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