Walk Through Snow

A Story by RedMage

A recollection of what happened within the mind of a coma patient after an attempted suicide.

I sat on the edge of her bed closest to the wall near the nightstand in the garage most of the time. I think she lived out there by choice. She thought it was cool, or she liked the space, it was almost certainly the former. I'd be slouched over holding my IV drip stand that was pumping some clear liquid into my arm constantly. I don't know what it was, but I know that the needle never left my vein as long as I was around her. I'd pull myself up on the pole and look over at her. She was rambling. She was always rambling. Which was good because I was incapable of speech.

Her name was Sam, she sat on the middle of the bed with her legs crossed and her hands pressed on her knees, staring at me. Sam would go on and on, I couldn't tell you about what. She took breaks only to laugh, and every time she laughed I would smirk a little bit and turn away. I think she appreciated the fact that I couldn't talk, though I recall her mocking it at least twice, asking me why I don't "speak up" and giggling to herself.

Sam was dressed in what I could only describe as a punk-rock high schooler's clothes. Donned in an oversized black hoodie and baggie ripped jeans with several black wrist bands, some of them may have even been spiked. She had bright blue short hair and a really nice smile despite the fact that her face was terribly deformed due to a nearly fatal gunshot wound she had apparently suffered from an aggravated ex-boyfriend that had tried to kill her. She had survived somehow but it had left her face scarred pretty terribly. She maintained positivity though. Good for her.

Sam wanted to go outside a lot, and I didn't really have a choice in the matter. She dragged me along. "Rob you're no fun." she'd say as she'd pull me by the right arm. She never touched my left arm for fear of hitting the needle. It was snowing outside, it was always snowing. Eventually after pushing on me and pulling on me she'd get me to stand up and I'd slowly walk toward the door and she'd get excited and cheer and ask me if I needed help walking, to which I'd always shake my head no.

I'd caught a glimpse of myself in a mirror on my way out the door once. My face was pale and my lips were blue like I had frozen to death. I thought maybe that was because of the drip, but would never take it out of my arm. I also couldn't help but feel like that was the reason I couldn't talk. I didn't let it bother me too much. I always had her there guiding me along. Dragging me everywhere I thought I was supposed to go.

There were no other houses. There were no other buildings, even. There was just the garage that Sam lived in, the snow, and a long stretch of plowed road that we walked down for miles. It was never cold outside, so we were never really deterred from walking for long periods of time. She got annoyed with how slowly I had to walk but she never let go of my hand while we were outside. It was like if she let go of me I'd be lost to the white abyss. She still never stopped talking.

After a while I'd get exhausted, or bored, and stop. Stopping meant I was ready to go back to the garage. I didn't really have any other way of communicating with her aside from that but she'd always respond with the same disappointed "already?". Even if we had been walking for hours. So we'd head back for the garage and as soon as we had started heading back we'd be walking up to the bed again and I'd sit exactly where I was before we had left.

This cycle continued for weeks. I'd sit on the bed slouched over while she went on and on about God knows what, she'd suggest we go for a walk, we'd do that for a long while and come right back. Throughout the entirety of it, I didn't question how I knew Sam, how I had met her, why she kept draggin me around despite our clear lack of communication. I just appreciated what we had.

One day while sitting around Sam suggested we go outside, and after goading me for a little bit like usual, we ended up out there. This time though, there was no road. She decided that the road hadn't been plowed yet and we decided to just walk as we normally did. We eventually lost sight of the garage and there was literally nothing but white around us. We walked in that nothingness for what seemed like forever. I could have been content with just walking and listening to her voice for the rest of eternity.

Then she let go of my hand and I woke up. I had been in a coma for a month after swallowing a bottle of antidepressants in an attempted suicide.

I still can't wrap my head around what happened inside my head during that month. The closest thing to what I actually believe would be that Sam is an unconcious manifestation of something guiding me toward the "light" of death, and her letting go of my hand at the last minute.

© 2014 RedMage

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Reviews

Woody

I like the idea a lot. interesting and quite original.
I have just one remark. you almost spoilt it for me by telling beforehand that it was in the mind of a comatose. I'd suggest you remove that or rephrase it without giving the game away. keep the mystery. the surprise at the end will be all the more appreciated. there. just an opinion.