Drifting in and out of consciousness, slowly, I opened my eyes. Several strangers stood guardedly, watching, waiting. I felt uneasy, frightened and alone. I reside in stillness searching the eyes unfamiliar faces, desperately seeking clues to my existence. Panic rose from inside of my belly like a volcano ready to explode. Who am I? Where am I and who are these people? My thoughts raced wildly. The woman standing next to me reached out and touched my hand. I was still wandering between sleep and awakening.

     “Welcome back,” She said. “How are you feeling?” I lie despondently and unresponsive. “Lizzie, can you hear me? It’s me, mom.”

     “Mom?” I mumbled, as if the words were foreign on my tongue. My eyelids felt heavy, but I managed to look up meeting her gaze.

     “You’ve had a terrible accident, “she said softly.

     “Accident,” I repeated trying to recall something, anything even a glimpse of what had happened. But there was nothing.

     “You were in a car accident.”

     My mind was blank I couldn’t bring to mind anything before opening my eyes. Of only three things, I was fairly certain: my name is Lizzie, I had a car accident and this amiable woman was saying she’s my mom.

     “What happened?” I asked.

     “Maybe you should let me take things from here Mrs. Gordon." A voice called from across the room.

     "Lizzie, I'm Doctor Smith, about two weeks ago you were involved in a terrible head on collision with another vehicle. You suffered severe injuries and, as a result, you've been comatose for 13 days."

     "Comatose?" I asked just above a whisper.

     "Yes, unaware in an unconscious state. Do you understand what I'm saying?"

     I nodded, yes. I recognized the words he spoke and I knew there meaning. However, everything seemed amiss. I felt awkward and out of sorts, as if my body wasn't my own. It was as though I was in someone elses skin Raising my hand, I studied the black polish adorning my nails, aghast at the thought of anything other, than pink or purple. I wondered who’d play such a cruel joke on me while I lie obliviously. Doctor Smith interrupted my thoughts.

     “Can you tell me today’s date?” He asked.

     “November . . . November.”

     “That’s right Lizzie it’s November but do you know what day in November it is.”

     My mind raced anxiously. My eyes searching the room for any clues. Decorations of leaves festooned the walls and a giant cut out turkey was hanging on the door. I took my best guess and hoped I was close. “I think it’s before Thanksgiving . . .the twentieth?”

     “Can you tell me your birthday?”

     “April twenty sixth?” I said more like a question than a statement.

     “Good Job.” He said. But I knew he was lying. I had failed his little experiment. “I’m going to step outside with your parents. You can rest now.”

     Doctor Smith stepped out of the room, and everyone followed him. Eager for some rest I closed my eyes drifting into a deep, peaceful sleep.

     “Jax,” someone breathed into my ear arousing me from slumber. Still groggy I half opened my eyes slowly scanning the room. Steadily my eyes focused on someone standing near my bed. Her long blonde hair cascaded past her shoulders and glints of sparkling light illuminated from her skin. It’s as if she seemed to glow.

     “Who are you?” I asked, but she seemed to dodge my question.

      "When they brought you in here, no one thought you were going to make it.

"I was here when the angel brought you back.” She said straightening the blankets on my bed.

     “Who are you?” I asked again.

     “I’m one of your nurses,” she said.

      But she looked awfully young to be a nurse.

     “You were given a life use it wisely.”

     My eyes began to feel heavy, and I slipped back into a deep sleep.

Upon waking the next morning, I felt refreshed. I recalled the evening before, and I wondered why the nurse had called me Jax. Like volts of blinding electricity, my memory sparked visions of the crash. That’s when it hit me. My car had collided with Jackie’s Ford Mustang.

     A sense of overwhelming dread consumed me. What happened to her? Was she here too? She had to be . . . she felt close, I sensed it.

Unexpectedly the door opened disrupting my thoughts. To my Surprise I recognized my visitor. His raven black hair was cut choppy, and his intense green eyes were ringed with guy-liner.

     “Hey, how you feeling,” he asked, slowly approaching me.

     “I’m okay . . .I guess.” He sensed the uncertainty in my voice.

     “What’s wrong?”

     “Why are you here, Damien?”

     “You’re my girlfriend. Why wouldn’t I come here?”

     “Girlfriend?”

     “You act surprised,” he said leaning in to kiss me. Before he could zero in on his target, my lips, I abruptly put up my hand to block his face. “Look, I don’t know what’s going on. Maybe you think this is some kind of sick joke. But I don’t. So, who put you up to this?”

     “What do you mean who put me up to this?”

     “I mean who sent you in here?”

     “Wow, Lizzie, you’re harsh.”

     “Harsh? You just strolled in here and tried to kiss me.”

     “And . . .”

     “And . . . I don’t kiss boy’s wearing more make-up than me!”

     “That’s not what you said two weeks ago when we were making out in your car.”

     “We made out in my car?”

     “Yeah!”

     “Well, two weeks ago things were different.” Damien stood there glaring at me.

     His brilliant green eyes seemed to have lost their luster, and I could tell I’d wounded him.

     “I’m sorry I bothered you. . .maybe, I should just leave,” he said heading toward the door.

     “Wait . . .” I blurted out. “Don’t go.” Damien closed the door quietly and turned to face me.

     “You’ve been through a lot," he said. " I shouldn’t have assumed you were ready to pick up where we left off.”

      “Where exactly did we leave off? I mean . . .I don’t exactly remember . . .you know the whole accident thing.”

      “Two weeks ago we went to a party together. You drove me home. But first we went to the point.”

     “The Point?” I asked unconvinced. Sure, I had heard of the place but I was almost certain I’d never been there.

     “We made out there, and then you took me home.”

     “Is that it?”

     “Pretty much except . . . I texted you on Monday morning asking you to be my girlfriend. That’s where we left off.”

     “Was I texting you when I crashed?”

     “Time seems about right, why?”

     “I’m curious. I usually don’t text and drive. I’m just trying to figure out what was so urgent I’d be texting. ”

     “Right after you texted me, your phone died. I know that because I tried calling you.”

     Damien’s eyes held mine, and I realized just how green they actually were. “Are you okay, Lizzie?” He asked, looking at me peculiarly.

     “I don’t know . . . I guess I’m just not feeling quite myself. Hey, do you know what happened to Jackie Marks?

      Damien’s eyes grew wide with surprise, and he looked at me shocked, like I’d just dropped a bombshell on him. “Didn’t they tell you?” he said with a distressed tone.

     “Tell me what?” I asked.

     “Jackie Marks is dead.”