I was breathing!
A sensation I thought I had lost use of.
It was all a dream! Oh the joy! Oh the luck!
I fluttered open my eyes and took one long breath. The air was bitter. I coughed slightly. I looked forward, not to see my room like I had hoped. This wasn't where I was supposed to be. I was supposed to be sitting in my bed, awaiting her call to say that she received my letter and wanted to go out with me this evening.
I wasn't in my boxers, I wasn't sitting in my room. I was in the normal hospital attire, which was only familiar because of shows I had seen on television.
Maybe I had survived the gun wound and I was brought here to heal. I checked my chest. What? No wound was visible, and my skin looked so tan. Last time I checked I was practically snow white. It wasn't my chest. Looking at my arms, my legs, feeling my face, I noticed one thing.... this wasn't my body!
"Your awake!" A squeaky young female voice piped out of my peripheral. I looked over to see a body too old to have owned that voice. But she was the only one in the room.
"Who are you?" I asked harshly. Her smile faded.
"Lucas?" She moaned. "Don't you recognize your own sister."
"No. My name is not Lucas, and I don't have any sister. You crazy-"
She started to cry and I stopped myself before I hurt her anymore.
"What's all the noise?" The nurse asked walking in the room. She looked at me and her jaw dropped. "Doctor Blaire can I see you for a second?" I raised my eyebrow to her.
"What is it Nancy?" The doctor asked.
"The boy! He's alive," She squealed.
"Can Lucas come home yet?" The girl asked through tears.
"We'll have to run some tests," The doctor muttered, dumbfound. "But he should be able to go home today since he's awake from his coma finally."
'Who the hell are you people?" I screamed.
The nurse motioned me to be quite and they took me out of the room. What was going on? Was this a dream to? Some shock from the bullet? Why was this kids story seeming somewhat familiar?