What Is Happening To Me?

I could not help but ask, "What happened? Are you in pain or something?"

Maybe he was, after all he too was in a hospital. I could see his pain was getting intense as he said, "If you can see me and I can touch you, it means you are…"

Even though he wasn't making sense, my heartbeat still sped up at his tone.

"What?" I asked. "And you don't even know yet?" The last word almost came out as a cry.

"What do I not know? Look I am going to my room now, you are crazy… I am leaving," and I started to leave but he stopped me again.

"Hey, hey, wait. I am not crazy. You don't understand what is happening to you. I didn't understand when it started to happen with me either, so you need to calm down," he said, again grabbing my shoulders which I immediately shrugged off.

"Don't touch me, you freak. Nothing is happening to me. I am fine, I feel fine, and I am going to my room to rest," I yelled and I started to reach out for the door-knob but I just couldn't.

I tried again, but my hand just passed through it. How?

"What is happening to me?" I shouted, instantly freaking out. I tried catching it again but I could not touch it. I pushed the door but instead of pushing it, I passed through it and fell on the floor.

He was immediately beside me, trying to help.

Scared to death, I pushed him away and started to crawl backwards, hoping to get away from the scary man and also hoping to find something to rest my back on, but instead of finding something, I crossed the bars of a bed and was now almost in a drawer…I stood up shrieking and started to run everywhere in a haphazard manner when suddenly my eyes fell on a still figure on a hospital bed.

Lying there was a lump of a woman. She was in the worst state possible, bruised everywhere and had a huge bandage on her head. Tubes stuck out from every orifice. She was breathing off a life support system… She was barely alive. She was me.

I stared at myself for an interminably long time, but after a while two hands wrapped around me. I knew he was a stranger and ideally, I should shrug him off, but it felt so good, and somehow it felt comforting.

"Am I dreaming?" I asked the first logical question. This was not possible, it must be a dream. I expected a yes but he stood quietly.

"This is not a dream?" I asked facing him, the shock evident on my face.

"Does this feel like a dream?" he asked softly, in an almost painful whisper.

"No," I whispered, "But how can it be real?"

"I am sorry," he spoke, caressing my shoulders as a tear rolled down his eyes.

I felt a deep urge to comfort him, but I had my own tears to control, so I turned to my bed as a tear stream rolled down my cheek. "Am I dead?" I asked between sobs.

"No, you are probably in a coma. But it is just one step before death," he replied calmly.