Before Then Now

I can hear—hushed voices, beeping machines.
I can smell—antiseptic, nurses’ perfume.
I can feel—the needle in my left arm, chilled fingers on my face.
I know who I am—Benny Thornton, college student.
But I can’t speak. Or move. Or see.
I’m in a coma. Yet I have no idea how I got here.

The doctors say he fell six stories. But Benny has no recollection of it. And while he recognizes the voices of his girlfriend and best friend, he has no clue why they sound irritated with each other. Or his vague feeling of uneasiness. Or the reason behind the searing anger he feels toward his girlfriend.

As he lies in a hospital bed, trapped in a nightmare, fleeting memories of the past come back to him. He tries to piece it all together. The insomnia. The sleepwalking. The death of his father. His mother’s debilitating agoraphobia. Something amiss with his girlfriend that he can’t quite remember.

And the horrifying realization that the real nightmare isn’t being in a coma. It’s waking up from it.