In the morning the doctor came to put me through his tests.
My body was that of a nineteen year old, but my mind and memories were that of a seventy two year old professional, skilled in 'mind craft' and 'presentation'. I played the role of the average nineteen year old waking from a coma.
There was a lot I could and couldn't remember which would match perfectly to the 'portrayal'.
I knew the Doctor would try to provoke me. When he did it was so clumsy I almost giggled, but played flat and dumb, looking up at him as some Messiah.
After all he was a Doctor and I was a nothing!
Hence, I was discharged. My parents came for me with my sister, and there was so much emotion. The car was full of love and joy as we rode home. After all their daughter/sister had been in a coma for two years ... and woke up.
Woke up as a 'better' person.
We arrived home, went up together in the elevator to the last flat I'd lived with my parents. When I entered I moved to what had been my room. My mother was holding my arm.
The room looked exactly as I remembered it. I walked to the closet, there were my clothes. I passed the little table I used as a desk which supported a typewriter.
I touched the antique, thinking of the future of computers and the internet, inventions that would not occur for twenty years.
My father left for work looking at me with such love. I didn't know what to say or do.
My mother made a snack, we ate and I wanted to go outside to see where I'd been injured. My sister wanted to come, but my mother told her to stay here.
At the moment I was unaware why she did it. My memory is that she always liked my sister better than me. But I said nothing.
My mother and I walked to the elevator, down, then around the building to the back yard. I don't recall ever coming here, shook my head.
"Come, let's go to the playground," my mother urged, and I obeyed.
The playground was only down the block, but seemed so far as I was so weak.
I could feel her joy at my weakness. I had been so strong, physically and intellectually. Now, I was a dopey puppy and she could feel superior. And she loved feeling that way.
I realised that was why she liked my sister who had an average intellect with very little volition. Now that I was emanating that attribute, she wanted me to herself. She wanted to relish these moments of being the one with the power. That's why she left my sister behind.
We finally reached the playground and sat on a bench.
Mommy began talking about when I was a child and played in the sandbox. I recalled and nodded. She spoke about the wading pool and the slides, nothing important or heavy.
We sat a time, then to the water fountain and I drank, then to the ladies. In a short time, we walked back to the apartment.
I was tired, went to my bed and plunged into sleep.
Dreams swallowed me. Things that happened in what had been my life but did not exist in this dimension, in this rerun. And would not.
The New Start
I awoke towards evening hungry. My mother made pancakes and I enjoyed them so much. Then my father came home and spoke with me, warm and so different from the way it had been.
In my 'past' I was extremely radical and he was an ex-solider. We argued over everything, me feeling so superior. But now, no. Now I couldn't care less about anything beyond my comfort. To be sweet little compliant me would ensure my comfort. So that is who I would be.
We watched the news. I had to keep myself quiet. I recalled how in my previous existence I would pass remarks against politicians, the war in Vietnam, the racism, but now sat blankly. Sat and looked at the news report as if I were watching a rerun of a boring television show.
I could feel the joy of my parents at my silence and lack of interest.
My parents did not go to their room to watch their television as they had done in 'real life'. They stayed with me, and we watched whatever they wanted together.
My father had bought me a pack of the cigarettes I used to smoke. I took one gratefully, feeling so good. Feeling loved and fitting in, being part of a family.
Playing a New Role
Later that night, when I was in the bedroom I shared with my sister, she said; "You're so different."
Whispering I replied, "I don't remember anything, but don't tell Mommy cause I don't want to go back to the hospital."
"Oh!" she said as if receiving a million dollars, "I won't tell anyone."
Knowing how treacherous she was I said; "You help me... cause I know I'll see people I don't remember and you'll tell me who they are and whatever you know."
"Sure!" she said as if I'd put a leash around my neck and given it to her.
I went to sleep feeling so blessed. Blessed not only that I got another chance, but that I knew the plot. I knew what was going to happen, I knew the characters around me, and could cut and paste myself to fit in seamlessly.
That was the blessing. To know what my parents wanted from me, and give it to them. To know the conniving mentality of my sister, who would not know I remembered. I would see first hand how she twisted the people, the events, to match her narrative.
I lay in my bed giving thanks for getting the greatest possible miracle.