The sunlight is flickering through the slender blinds, and I am bathed in golden fragments of light. There is no movement. I'm suspended in time; not going forward, not going back but just there. 

And suddenly the peace is shattered as the door slams open, permitting my 'mom' and Dr. Logan to enter. They're talking in low voices, and I can only grasp a few words here and there.

"Ready...home...therapy..."

I twist my neck towards them, and spot her tall figure, and his short one, so perfectly mismatched, and yet, so perfectly in sync. She sees my alert eyes first, and stops, uncertain how to approach me. I provide no helpful gesture, but keep my eyes fixed on hers. After a while, she is the one that turns away, turning to Dr. Logan who was watching our not so warm meeting apprehensively. He breaks eye contact with me as well, and presses a silver button present on the centre table. Barely a few seconds later, a nurse appears in the hallway and gazes questioningly, glancing at me every few seconds. After a long and awkward pause, he finally says, "Get her ready for departure. She's being checked out today." With that, and a swish of his long coat, he stalks out of the room. Without looking at me, the woman follows.

I let out a sigh of relief that I hadn't in their presence. Home! Yes!  Maybe they finally realized what a big lie the woman was. I exhaled another deep breath, trying to calm my rapid heart beat.

The nurse is scurrying around the room, tending to my machines and gingerly taking all the plugs off my skin. I feel self conscious in her presence; my scars and burns are visible to all. When she's unplugging a wire on my collar bone, I feel her eyes scan a particularly vicious looking angry burn streching from the top of my neck to my shoulder blade. She meets my eyes, before flitting them away and determinedly gazing away from them. When all the wires are removed, she grips my upper arm and slowly helps me to get up and off the bed.

My first few steps are shaky, and I have to lean on the nurse heavily for support. After a while, my legs get used to the weight and I am more confident. The nurse carefully lowers me onto a maroon velvet couch, and I gratefully sink into its depths. Even the short walk exhausted me. The nurse returns with a couple of clothes draped over her arms. She motions to a plain white door, and I slowly stand up and walk over to it. 

The nurse unlocks the door, and tells me, softly, to sit in the black plastic stool present. She scurries around the bathroom to find a clean towel, wets it, and comes over to me. Gently, she wipes away the dirt and the sweat. When she sees the abundant amount of burns and scars, she purses her thin lips and turns to open a cupboard. Taking out a bottle of antiseptic and some cotton, she dabs the medicine onto it before tenderly rubbing it over my burns. I try not to wince too much, and when she is done, I smile at her, the first real smile since I awoke. Emboldened, apparently, by the simple gesture of affection, she proceeds to keep the antiseptic back, with a slight spring in her step. Looking at the clothes, she asks, "Can you dress?" I nod, and she backs out of the room, softly closing it behind her. 

I stand up, and grab the clothes. It's simple stuff, just a plaid shirt and black jeans. Simple, but stylish. I smile slightly as I try to imagine Emily's reply to the outfit.

"Darlin'! You absolutely have to wear your Converses with them!"

After I'm dressed, I go outside, and find the nurse tidying the room. Suddenly, I frown. She's helped me so much, and I don't even know her name? Involuntarily, the question bursts out.

"What's your name?"

The nurse turns around, clearly startled by my silent approach. "Sarah," she says in a low voice. I smile again, and reply, "Nice to meet you, Sarah." She looks up, and gives me a broad, sparkling smile.

*****

"Okay, remember Bianca, if you feel anything wrong, come straight back. Do you understand?" Dr. Logan asks. I nod, and Dr. Logan, seemingly satisfied with my answer turns to the yellow cab waiting. He helps me in, and soon I am seated comfortably in the cab. 

The cab still doesn't move.

I'm about ask the driver why he isn't starting when suddenly Mrs Haley climbs into the cab. She glances at me, before lowering her gaze to the carpet on the floor. I move my gaze to Dr. Logan, but he's peering at his sandwich, as if there is some defect in it. I take a deep breath.

She's probably just an escort. They won't let a patient go without a guardian. And I know for a fact that mom is overseas. She's probably hurrying back here, overwhelmed with worry.

Because I know, I know, that the coma story? It. Is. Not. Real. I keep repeating that, as if hoping that that will make it real. I'm startled out of my trance when I hear Mrs Haley tell the driver the address. 

"1203 Polly Avenue-"

"What? No, no- you've got it wrong. My house is at 3678 Rose Street!" I blurt out.

Mrs Haley looks confused, before a look of devastating understanding crosses her face.

"No, no, Bianca. We're going to my house."