Coma

All my life has felt fake, I haven't felt real in a very long time. They tell me things will be "quite fine". But, I can not recall the first thirty-five years of my life. Even if someone showed me a photograph of my ninth birthday, I couldn't truly believe the small kid in black overalls, a beaten-down soda tainted shirt and faded Levi pants was me.

"Guedira..."

He looks happy. I note while my eyebrows furrowed with the steam of warm Nous Nous clenched in my right hand, the photo within the left.

But It doesn't look like me, at least I think it doesn't.

"Adil Guedira!" a voice shouted.

Adil looked up and his eyes met a woman of short stature glaring.

"Grandmother Layla," He said quickly while plopping a welcoming peck on both cheeks. "Sorry, I didn't see you there."

"Of course, you didn't..." She huffed while plopping onto a chair, hand waving in the air. "If only you'd get your head out of the clouds, I would prefer you find a nice girl to introduce to me than sticking your head in work all the time."

"Yes, grandmother but I'm very busy-"

"Are you really that busy...?" Grandmother Layla questioned.

"You forgot to take your spoonful of cumin, you know you had bowel movements this morning and rushed into the bathroom, you knocked over your cousin just to get through. Too busy to fix your bowel problems, Adil?"

"Grandmother, I'll be fine...have to go. Someone scheduled an appointment just now."

Adil stood up.

"Be careful, please...I don't want to lose you like I lost your mother or father, Adil...you're my only son." The old woman whispered with a shaky voice, glossy water-brimmed eyes begging him to be careful.

"You have to be safe."

His eyes met hers filled with warmth before running into a nearby cab.

An hour later, in the office Adil Guedira watched the aged, red oak clock.

Tik! Tok! Tik! Tok!

His hand skimmed over many papers, with a lick on his thumb he pulled out a creme-colored file filled with patient information and an ID copy clipped to the top of the application.

Melissa Langnickel, really weird name.

He stared intently at her photo, trying to figure out the sensation of Deja vu that filled his senses.

Honestly, Who names their daughter that? Not the weirdest he's heard though.

He heard the sound of an alarm go off and turned around.

Not a single thing in sight, no one else was in the office, yet.

Maybe his head was making up noises to fill the empty void of the room.

Somehow this feels as though it's happened before. I can't quite put my foot on it.

"Sorry, I'm late! We had an appointment for 3:30PM but it's 4:00PM now-" a woman with chestnut brown hair, bright green eyes yelled as she came into his office.

She paused to breathe as she dusted her clothes off.

She was beautiful.

"Oh, you're fine, miss. I’m your therapist..." Guedira smiled.

"Yes, of course I saw your plaque outside the door...now It's my first time here...really, I'm nervous about opening up. I may not say much about our first session, really."

Her eyes were frantically staring around the room with a nervous swallow.

"It's perfectly normal," Adil assured, noticing her tension, as he stood up and flickered some of the lights off.

"I do an exercise with my first time guests, we relax in a dimly lit room with meditation music, and we do introductions about our dreams, our hopes, and where we would like to be in life. It's a mindfulness sort of practice just to be comfortable around each other."

"Right, sounds lovely." Melissa said as her stomach grumbled furiously.

"Sorry...but do you have a restroom here?"

"Yes but they are closed for repairs. The closest one is five miles from here."

A bag of cumin plopped into her hands, suddenly.

"Use that, take a spoonful and have some of your water it will help."

"Is this part of the mindfulness exercise?"

"No, it's a home remedy. One spoon of cumin, have some water to get rid of bowel problems."

Melissa bent forward and squinted her eyes. "Really? How do I know this won't exacerbate my stomach even worse?"

"My grandmother Layla guinea pigged and experimented on me my whole life, guaranteeing it will work. If not, then I will take you out for lunch, is that okay?"

"Well, I'm always interested in a free lunch, especially if a cute doctor is taking me, " Her lips turned up in a grimace as she drank the cumin with a deep cough. "I don't...usually go on dates with my psychologist, though."

"Well," Adil sat back as he closed his eyes. "It's just an outing...you know, for mindfulness."

"You're really sweet but I'll have to decline, for now. We just met..."

"No, of course. Well, we hardly know each other…Melissa” his voice trailed off as he began to click his pen.

“I mean, have we met before? I’m sure I’ve seen you somewhere?”

"You were right, we just met. So, unless we are dating we aren’t on a first name basis. But thank you for the cumin. I bet your mother gave you the bag."

"Grandmother, but...would you like to start the session now?"

Melissa nodded.

"Clock starts now," Adil said as he scratched his black stubbled chin.

“Well, see, my hopes and dreams ever since I was a child was to work at Soma corporation...but-”

“But?” Adil whispered back in a calming voice.

“But,” Melissa exhaled. “But...well, I’m not sure if it’s what I want anymore. I’d much rather do something else, but Soma found me a suitable candidate for their internship and my parents are expecting me to take the offer…”

“Yes, but what do you-”

“And on top of that, I’m still mourning the loss of my grandmother. She was my biggest advisor, I still think of her every day. I just can’t imagine...after 13 years, why can't I move on? IF this pain will ever end.”

Adil slowly turned the chimes of his radio down. “I know how it feels, I lost my own parents, both of them...losing someone is difficult. It’s even worse that I can’t remember them at all, yet I have photos of them...but those memories, gone.”

“God, I’m so sorry…” Melissa comforted him while burrowing her face in both hands. “This necklace is a bit of all I have of my grandmother, maybe if you have pictures it can comfort you? I suggest taking them to the old town side of Garibaldi to laminate them if they’re prone to sunlight. I actually went last Wednesday for that same reason. ”

“I wish, but yet, it doesn’t bring peace of mind. I just...can’t remember any pieces of my life, in fact I can’t even remember last Wednesday, I can’t remember this morning.”

Melissa sat, silently.

“I can’t remember this morning, I can’t remember 30 minutes ago, I don’t...I don’t remember, but I swear we had this conversation before.”

"Guerida, he's the patient we are examining, we need to alter his simulation consciousness-" A voice echoed.

Adil looked back in shock, seeing no one around.

He peaked at Melissa, heart pounding.

"I didn't know there was a patient here named Guerida as well..."

"Well, Mr. Guedira, there is not. Did someone mention it?" she asked.

"No...I mean, you did. Just now.." He explained rather unsettled.

"Right?"

"No, Doctor."

This is not happening. Not happening.

"Adil, you're home!" Adil could hear his grandmother yell joyfully as he was being ushered to their couch with a cup of chamomile tea in a clay cup.

Feeling very disoriented, he swallowed the lump in his throat.

"I don’t remember how I got here...I was just in my office, then nothing...then I’m here…”

"It is a good thing that I made chamomile tea today," Layla interrupted.

"If you don't subdue the patient's consciousness with an extra dose of the drug, he'll regain consciousness. It could expose us-"

"No!" Adil yelled as he slapped the tea from his grandmother's hands.

"Adil?"

"No, grandma.." He pleaded like a child.

"I need to go to work- yes, work."

"Adil, you just came home. Son, why are you acting this way-?"

"No! No...I think I need to see a doctor," He stuttered.

“What’s the commotion, Adil?” his aunt asked.

He ran out of the house while the voices only grew louder and louder.

"Adil...Adil...Guerida...Psychologist...yes, coma."

"What do you want from me!?" Adil yelled.

"Adil?" his aunt called as she placed a hand on his shoulder.

It all makes sense now.

"No, no, get away. You're not real. You're fake," He pointed while crying. "I'm not alive, I'm dead. I hear the voices of women, of the angels, maybe even God!"

He began to shake violently.

"Bring his blood pressure down! You didn’t administer enough of the anesthesia!"

June 30, eight-sixteen PM.

"Dr. Longmire," Melissa whispered as she walked into a hospital building.

"Ah, there you are Melissa! I hope your internship went well?"

Melissa nodded as she put her suitcase down. "I'm really thankful to work with Soma corporation. I just didn't realize...that after the pre-meditated virus H43P produced by Soma, you'd use people...to test out the new hyperbaric chambers."

"Yes, well...is that somehow against your morals, Melissa? The virus merely wiped out the incapable and left the immune to us. They are special. IF Project Medium is successful, we will work on the rest of the world soon.."

"No...course not, Miss Longmire. I think I should be getting a view of the machines now for hands-on purposes.”

"Good. There are a few we were unable to capture, still out there. But we will find them soon. Actually we just sent out a patrol right now through the woods. Walk right through this door, and take off any precious metals, it disrupts the transmission of the therapy the patients are experiencing."

Longmire brushed her deep burgundy hair back and swiftly turned. "There is something I have to attend to momentarily.”

Melissa stroked her locket and quickly shuffled into the lab.

A cold room as if there was a brutal winter smacked her face upon entering the lab.

It enveloped her and sucked the air from her lungs, leaving her chilled to her core.

“Only 14 people.”

One stood out to her the most.

Her lip quivered as she moved closer. "My god, not you, Adil..."

She took out her hand shakily and brushed the top of the see-through chamber.

Attempting to open it proved fruitless as she noticed a small pad connected to the side of the hyperbolic chamber.

"I don't have the passcode…”

I’ll have to jam the battery compartment with my necklace.

She removed it and placed it in the underside of the chamber.

It clicked open and she steadily sat Adil upwards, holding his head upon her chest.

“Adil, Adil...wake up…”

His face was covered in sweat and his heart was pounding.

In her hand, she held up a few cumin seeds, waving them in his face.

“Melissa…” Guerdia whispered, recognizing the scent of cumin as he woke. “Am I in a dream?”

“Not enough time to explain,” Melissa tearfully stroked his cheek, putting one arm around him.

“Be silent, and be fast…”

“My grandmother?”

“I don’t know Adil...I don’t know…” she whispered upon exiting the back entrance of the hospital.

The city was our home. The city is empty, no soul around. Once busy streets are crying in loneliness, they beckon for a traveler to step upon them once more. The scent of Nous Nous and fresh bread are taken by the calamity. The cooing child and his laughter I miss. Cats and dogs do not roam, and the homes are no longer a place of beautiful memories, but are memorials to what once was and may never be again. The city is in a coma.