Comas and Fortunes

No one is more surprised than me that not only did I come up with something for both prompts this week, I wrote them in one evening. Now, if only that energy could translate to my other writing. *sigh*

Prompt One
You were involved in a terrible car accident and have been in a coma for the past three months. What your family and the doctors don’t know is that you can hear everything that they say. Write the scene.

“Is it true her husband was driving the car?” a young voice asked. Probably another candy striper. There seemed to be an abundance of them in this place.

“It’s true,” a second voice answered. It sounded like Sherry. She must have pulled a day shift this week. “Walked away without a scratch.”

“Isn’t that, like, kind of suspicious?”

“Not my place to say,” Sherry said a little stiffly. “Don’t you have magazines to deliver or bedpans to clean?”

There was a sound of someone leaving the room in a huff. A few seconds later I felt a pat on my head.

“Don’t worry, dear,” Sherry said. “He won’t get away with it.” Then she left too.

Get away with what? I wondered.

I must have dozed off because the next thing I knew I was awakened by the sound of many voices. Oh, good. Time for the family free-for-all.

“Oh, my poor baby!” Sniff, sniff. “She doesn’t even look alive.” Sniff, sniff.

My dear mother.

“Of course she’s alive, my father said irritably. “Just look at that heart monitor.” Was he annoyed at my mother or the fact my heart was still beating?

“Why do I have to be here? I’m missing the field trip. It’s not like she can hold up her end of the conversation.” That ray of sunshine would be my sister Cathy. Such a joy.

“It’s too crowded in here.” Sherry’s voice came like a blessing from above.

“It’s all right nurse,” my father said. “We were just leaving anyway.”

It was quiet for a long time after that, then I hear footsteps. Someone was in my room – a man, judging by the smell of his cologne. A second set of footsteps joined the first and then I was forced to endure the war of the aftershaves.

“I thought you said the respirator was the only thing keeping her alive? She’s been off of it for a week now, why is she still alive?” Ah, the dulcet tones of my loving husband.

“I told you in most cases the patient will expire on their own within a few days of being taken off of their respirators.” That was my doctor, my least favourite of them anyway.

“Well what are you going to do about it?”

“What do you mean, what am I going to do?”

“I paid you a lot of money—”

“To keep her in a coma and take her off the respirator, which I did.”

“She was supposed to die!”

“Keep your voice down,” the doctor hissed.

“I wouldn’t have to if you’d just done your job right.”

“I already did more than I should. I’m done here.”

“Well what am I supposed to do? She could live for years like this.”

“Why don’t you hold a pillow over her face. I’ll put in my report she simply stopped breathing.”

“Fine. But the least you can do is keep watch.”

Seriously? This was how it was going to end for me?

“Hold it right there! You’re both under arrest for conspiracy to commit murder.”

Was that Sherry’s voice?

“I don’t understand.” That was the doctor’s voice.

“We’ve had you under surveillance for a long time, Doctor Death. I’ve been working under cover her for the last six months – I have enough evidence to put you away for life.”

“Good work, officer,” my husband began.

“Nice try, slime ball. We know what happened to your wife was no accident.”

There was the sound of more people arriving, then Sherry’s voice again.

“Take ‘em away, boys. And no need to be gentle.”

There were the usual protests from my husband and the doctor as they were led away, then all was quiet again. But I had the sense someone was still in the room.

“Don’t worry, sweetie.” Sherry patted my hand. “You’re going to make a full recovery. Maybe even in time for their trial.”

Talk about incentive for getting better!


Prompt Two
A fortune teller at the local county fair tells you two things. She tells you something good that will happen, and something awful that will happen. What are these events or incidents?

When the fortune teller told me I’d be meeting a tall, handsome strange who’d sweep me off my feet, I nearly laughed. I mean really, don’t all fortune tellers tell you that? But then three days later I met Brian, tall, handsome Brian whom I’m madly in love with.

The other part of her prediction, the one about how I’d be leaving everything behind to go to a better place, like people do when they die, completely slipped my mind until much later.

It wasn’t until I got the message on my answering machine from my doctor’s office that I suddenly remembered the second prediction. I’d gone in for a routine check up and tests, and now the doctor wanted to see me in his office.

“Babe,” Brian said when he came home that night. “Where are you? We have something important to discuss.”

He followed the sound of my sniffles to the living room. Whatever he was going to tell me was forgotten as he held me in his arms and I poured my heart out to him.

“What if it’s cancer?” I asked, my voice cracking.

“Whatever it is, we’ll give it a good fight. I just found you, I’m not going to let you go that easily.”

He came with me to the doctor’s office the next day. We sat there holding hands as the doctor swept in.

“Look at you two,” the doctor said, shaking his head. “Who died?”

I flinched . Brian tightened his hold on my hand.

“Just cut to the chase, Doc,” Brian said.

“Fine, fine. That cough you’ve had is a little more serious than we thought. It’s that lung problem you were treated for when you were little.”

“But I thought you said I’d be fine as long as I took care of myself during damp weather.”

“Yes, but that was 15 years ago. We’ve had a series of cold, damp winters and high humidity in the summer. And it’s starting to take its toll on your health.”

“What can we do?” Brian asked when I couldn’t speak.

“You really need to spend some time in a drier climate. Move there if you can.”

“Move?” I squeaked out.

“I know it means leaving everything behind – friends, family, job – but you’ll be in a better place for your health.”

“A better place?” I repeated weakly. I turned to look at Brian. “Why do you look so happy?”

“My company offered me a promotion, but it would mean moving to Arizona.”

“Arizona would be perfect,” the doctor beamed.

“I’ve always wanted to live in the desert,” I told Brian with a smile.

“And it’ll be a great place to raise the baby,” the doctor added.

“Baby?” we chorused, looking at him in shock. “What baby?”

The doctor just smiled.