Beeping. That's the first thing I am aware of. I don't know what is beeping or why, just that it is. I don't know when I start hearing the beeping. I might have always heard it and not paid attention until now, or maybe I gradually started returning to my senses, and that was the first thing I noticed. I don't know. The only thing I do know is that before the beeping, there was Nothing. Don't ask me what it felt like; I do not have the slightest clue. What I do know is that while inside the Nothing, it wasn't like being underwater, like some people describe comas, because then, you're aware of something. Except I was aware of Nothing, not even myself, I probably didn't know I existed, at least until the beeping. Until I realize I can't hear anything, besides the beeping. I can however feel…everything.
As I 'listen', I become aware of other things around me. I feel the hum of a desk fan, the flicker of computer monitors, and the movement of fabric. I also hear people. Tiny rustlings, heavy breathing, that sort of thing. I attempt to move…nothing. I try to open my eyes…still nothing. I'm stuck. Just great. I quickly realize that my attempts are futile, so I just focus on listening. I figure I'm not at a hospital; otherwise there would be shouting and many more sound in general.
It's nighttime, I think. Everyone is asleep, and no one seems to be moving around, at least as far as I can tell. As I listen, I manage to figure out the difference in rustling sheets and window curtains. There's a sudden buzz… it sounds like it's coming from farther away than the other sounds. I hear a thunk, and suddenly I feel a door close. I am positive that it is a door; the brief but sudden jerk of those automatically closing doors. Then I feel footsteps. No, really I feel footsteps; like little vibrations in the ground, one after the other in quick succession. They are below me, so I must be on the second floor of this place. There are five more buzzes, some of them close together, others farther apart. I feel two of the newcomers walk into an empty room (at least I think it's empty) and feel something rustling inside. I figure they must be their offices.
And so I listen; to the feel of the footsteps, to the vibrations they make. I feel where they go and what they do. I feel them leave, and return, and start the whole process over again. I do not know how long it takes me to get used to my new(ish) senses, but I quickly learn that I am in a fairly large five story building. I am located on the third floor, as well as about twenty five others. The others, from what I can tell can move, unlike me. They yell and shout sometimes, though I cannot always understand them. I do not hear them yelling, I feel them yelling, like one feels extra loud music at a party; the sounds vibrating off the walls. The only sound I can hear (in the traditional sense) is the beeping.
I don't know how long it takes but eventually my hearing comes back, and becomes just as sensitive as my touch sense. I can suddenly hear the rustles of papers, several unsynchronized ticks (I realize that they are clocks, located in different places), and the shouts suddenly become understandable; they are in pain. I realize I must be in a private hospital of some sort; a place that takes care of those with both physical and traumatic injuries. From what I can tell, no one here is crazy, just people who have trouble grasping reality (I learn this when one of the other patients starts crying out for his military buddies, as if he is in the middle of a fire fight). There are people with normal injuries here though too, from what I can sense, the injuries are mostly broken bones.
I don't hear everything though; my hearing occasionally fades in and out. I let it; after all, there isn't really anything worth listening to. I wonder if I should return to the Nothing. I feel that I can, if I really want to; just sink into the depths and just… cease. I don't though, though I am not sure why. I do not think I would die if I returned, just remain in this infernal coma. To my utter shock, my thoughts are interrupted.
Someone is checking on me, or rather, checking the instruments and tubes sticking out of me. While this in itself is not unusual, I sense there is something different about to happen.
"You are…" She rustles through what seems to be papers on a clip board, "Patient A113. Yes, yes… you should be fine for the slot… and there. Finally, I no longer have to deal with the zombie."
Wait… did she just call me a zombie? Yes she did. If I had the ability to move… anything I would have let my displeasure known, but as it is, all I can do is call her rather annoying names in my head. The name Hag comes to mind, and I have to admit it's rather fitting. From what I can feel, this woman is rather old; her long and bony fingers, her skin like clammy leather, and she has several veins sticking out (at least from what I can tell). She has a strangely squeaky voice that reminds me of nails on a chalk board.
"KRONK," the woman screeches, and a large man comes rushing into the room, and a baritone voice fills it.
"Yes, Doctor Yzma?" he asks pleasantly, and I can feel the woman turn and glare at him.
"I am transferring A113 here to be under the care of Doctor Kai's new nurse, so we won't have to deal with her anymore," Doctor Yzma tells him crisply, and I can feel the muscle man deflate slightly
"Are you sure we can't keep her? She doesn't complain or talk back like some of the other patients do, and she actually listens when I tell her about my new receipts-"
"Of course she listens, Kronk," the woman snipped irritably, "considering she's a human vegetable, it's not like she has anything better to do. Now come on, let's hurry up and get this infernal shift over with."
Ouch. A vegetable? I'm right here you witch! Will you please stop insulting me as if I'm not really here? This whole 'cannot communicate with anyone' thing is going to get exasperating very fast, I can feel it. Something jiggles slightly in my mouth, and I realize that it's a ventilator. Oh great, I can't even move my lungs to breathe by myself; that's just sad. I would have sighed but… well you get the idea. Kronk and the hag finish up with my 'checkup' and I quickly learn that I literally have tubes in places I did not know I even had. Oh god, I am not enjoying this. The hag and her nurse finally leave and I 'sigh' in relief. I hear them talk to someone else briefly, and then the person walks into my room.
This new person is a portly man, and probably a doctor, judging by the solid confidence in his step. Another figure suddenly comes down the hall and comes into my room as well. This person is tiny; possibly the shortest person I have ever encountered. He walks rather pompously and I can feel his toupee bouncing on his head.
"Ah, hello Doctor Kai," from what I can tell, the nasally voice is coming from the midget man.
"Hello Mr. Weselton," says the larger man, Dr. Kai, pleasantly, "I was just about to write down a few things to mention to the new nurse when she takes over the care for Ms. Anderson here."
Finally, someone who treats me like a person. I have a feeling that I am going to like this Doctor Kai.
"Yes," Mr. Weselton drawls, "about that; I was wondering if she has had any progress. Her benefactor is curious."
Dr. Kai sighs and I can feel him shake his head, "I am sorry to say that while it is possible for her to awaken, her chances are very poor. Even if she were to awake, there is a large chance she would have suffered brain damage."
"What is her chances?" Presses Mr. Weselton and the Doctor sighs again.
"At best; twenty five percent," he replies, and I feel the midget shuffle his feet.
"Ah, very well then. Dr. Kai, you may want to give your nurse another patient; Her benefactor will no longer be adding to the deposit, therefore, Patient A113 is going to have to be unplugged. I suppose I should begin the arrangements of having a new long term patient moved into the room as soon as A113 is disposed of."
"Mr. Weselton," Dr. Kai says, he sounds worried, "even if her chances are slim, there is still a possibility that she could wake! We should not jump to any hasty decisions until we know for certain that she is a lost cause."
I feel the midgets feet move so that he is now facing the doctor. He just stands there for a while, and then the midget speaks; "You're not going to drop this are you? Fine, her deposit will run out in six months time, if she does not wake by then, you're unplugging her."
I feel the doctor nod affirmative, and the midget leaves. Oh, god… am I exchanging death by being crushed by a big rig for suffocating? I try to move again; my arms, legs, eyelids, tongue, anything… nothing. My body is completely unresponsive, and I have six months to fix it. I may not be able to see anything, but if I cannot figure out how to move before six months are up… then it is really going to be lights out for me.