Inventing Dreams

You know when you have a nightmare and you can wake up from it? Well, I can’t. I’m in a coma. I live my nightmare over and over. I drove drunk and killed our only daughter. I remember the accident like it was yesterday. Maybe it was yesterday? It’s still fresh in my mind. The sounds, the smells, the horror, it’s all still there. I’m trapped in it. My husband comes in everyday to visit me. He’s wonderful. Sits and holds my hand for hours. We talked about what we would do if either of us were in this state. It was kind of a just in case scenario. I said keep me alive no matter what. He said let him go. I really just want to die now. The blur from dream to nightmare to reality is downright frightening. I do know that my smart, beautiful and loving daughter is dead. I killed her. Only in my dreams do I get to see her and talk to her. Hold her and tell her how sorry I am. She comforts me, tells me it’s okay. It’s not, only in my dreams it is. So, I guess this is my heaven and my hell. I don’t want to wake from it. Ever. My last selfish act. I should go to my husband, face what I’ve done. But I won’t. I will stay in my own dream world, trapped between my own heaven and hell. This is best for everyone. Right?

I used to be a happily married man, well I was happy. That was all ripped away from me nearly 3 years ago. I squint my eyes, has it been 3 years? Well, it was 6 months with time off for good behavior. As part of my probation, I have to come to the hospital once a week to care for the woman I put in a coma. I’ve been coming every single day. If she dies, I will be a murderer. She’s been here for almost 3 years and we still don’t know who she is. Nobody has come to visit. I spend more time with this stranger than I do with my own family. They left me just before the accident. I’m not the same man I was. I haven’t been for years. I remember the night she left me. We had been fighting about giving our son a bath. I choked her and hit her. Screamed and left. I was not easy to live with, all the violence. When I came back, they were gone. I flew into another rage. Got into my car and drove. I drank some beers, smoked some pot and just drove. She appeared out of nowhere. I didn’t have time to react. It was too late to anyway. She was on my windshield. I drove for a few miles, ran out of gas and waited. As far as the police could tell, her car broke down and she was walking for help. That’s as much as we know. No identification, nothing. The only distinct thing is her missing right arm but still no clue as to who she is. So, I sit here every day, hoping she will wake up. Answer some questions, give me some peace. This is my nightmare. There is no waking from it. She looks so serene lying there day after day. My only comfort is that she is not suffering. Dreams are wonderful. Right?

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