Waking up from a coma. Roxanna!

“I choose the second option.”

The angel smiled and raised her glowing hand, making the world go black.

Sara awoke to a bright light flooding her eyes, head spinning and right arm throbbing where an IV was secured to it. She blinked slowly, sitting up to find herself in a hospital, a greenish-blue gown on her and an oxygen mask tied to her face. The events of the past few minutes were unclear in her head, blurring even as she tried desperately to recall them. A nurse walked in and, seeing her, dropped her clipboard and ran out, eyes wide and shocked. Sara yanked the mask off her face and pulled the IV out, standing shakily on bare feet, eager to leave the hospital. It filled her with odd feelings, of dread and remorse, feelings she had never known to be hers.


Sara turned to the voice instinctively, feeling a sense of muffled recognition. It was a man, mid twenties perhaps, with light brown hair, looking attractive in a white t-shirt and jeans. There was an unmistakeable hope in his voice, practiced for fear of being crushed.

He ran to her before she could think any further, sweeping her into a passionate kiss, hands cradling her face and messing up her hair. Sara felt her eyes close, eyebrows creasing ever so slightly. He was a stranger, but she knew him. Knew his taste, his touch. Her memories faded even further, into the darkest recesses of her mind.

After the first few maddened caresses the kiss deepened, slow and tender. When they finally pulled away, Sara could feel tears streaming down her face, mixed with those of the man she had just been entangled with. He was Sky McGraw, the actor...Sara could feel a few of his movies come to mind, all of which were instant hits in theatres. What the heck was he doing with her?

“If you don’t m-mind my asking,” she started, voice sounding odd, “Do I know-”

Sara froze, seeing herself in a floor-length mirror nearby. She was taller, slimmer, bustier, and sporting an amazing tan, not to mention her hair...it was falling to her shoulders in tousles, black with pink highlights. A number of piercings sat along her earlobes, studs sparkling in the fluorescent LED lighting. Her arm was riddled with scars, and quite a few tattoos. It all came back much too quickly. She was Roxanna, punk-rock superstar and model, twenty five years old, and involved with every other Hollywood hottie. Not to mention drugs. If the tabloids got hold of this, well...what a scandal.

The End

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