They say time is relative, a mere illusion that haunt those trapped within its imaginary limits. I have lived this, felt it, seen it and since then my perspective escaped its bounds.
I was on my way to work one morning when I came into a car accident. My life flashed before my eyes in streaks and motions of white. I thought that that day would be the end of everything I had known, leaving my loved ones behind and ready to discover the unknown truths behind the veil. I wasn't completely wrong, however a few days later I awoke in a stern hospital bed with the monitors beeping to the rhythm of my heartbeat. I felt the sting of the IV needle in my arm burning my skin, the heavy cast that felt like concrete on my leg and the dizziness of a possible concussion swirling in my head.
A few moments later a nurse entered the room. Her eyes tired. She carried glass vials of medicine, probably painkillers of sorts, in her hand to add to my concoction of recovery. I slowly glanced at her, turning my neck just slightly.
"Ms. Clarke, I see that you are awake, we almost thought we'd lose you," the nurse said lifting her eyebrows in surprise.
After she changed my medication she went on to do the rest of her rounds. As the medication started kicking in I felt drowsy. I wanted to sleep but then the doctor came by.
"Welcome to the land of the living Ms. Clarke, I'm doctor Wilson," he introduced himself. I gave him a faint smile, not feeling much like talking just yet.
"You have been in a coma for the last three days, and have a serious concussion from the accident. You have also broken your leg, hence the cast," Dr. Wilson explained.
"How are you feeling?"
With my energy draining from my body, my tongue and jaw felt heavy. However, I knew if I wanted to get out of this place I had to show progress - and by doing that I had to speak, or try at least.
"I'm feeling a little drowsy and dizzy, and my body hurts all over. Other than that just fine Doctor," I said, the pain lingering in my raspy voice.
He nodded his head and updated my file. He did extra tests and did a thorough checkup.
"Well, you seem in a better condition than we anticipated, therefore I am going to keep you here for a few days for monitoring purposes whereupon you will be released. And by that I mean you will be allowed to leave the hospital under the condition that you rest at home doing as little as possible," Dr. Wilson explained in a firm voice.
After those few days my mother came to fetch me from the hospital and insisted that I stayed with her and my father during my recovery. I agreed, but something felt off, obscure of sorts. I immediately noticed my mom's hair that seemed different. She always had long brown hair, but it was short and grey.
On our drive home it bothered me, and decided to ask her about it.
"Mom, when did you change your hair? It was long and brown just last week when we went for brunch."
"My darling Samantha, you must've hit your head quite hard. I haven't dyed my hair for about five years now, and you know I have never had long hair, can't stand the feeling of hair dangling in my face and neck," she said, a concerned expression forming on her face.
I nodded in agreement, and wrote it off as an hallucination from the concussion. However, deep down I knew something was amiss.
Over the course of my stay with my parents I noticed a lot of small things that were different to what I could remember - my old room was painted blue instead of pink, the furniture was moved differently, my old prom dress had a sweetheart bustline where I remember it to be a halter neck dress, even the peanut allergy my dad had was gone.
Every time I had mentioned these differences to my parents their response was always the same - "It's probably just the concussion confusing you."
My mom got worried and took me back to Dr. Wilson for more tests as she thought I might have gotten amnesia and filling in the blanks with false memories. Dr. Wilson ran the tests and concluded that I did not suffer from amnesia and that it was just my brain trying to compensate for lost time during my coma. We even went to a second opinion who said the exact same thing.
Confused of what's real and not I started crying in the hospital lobby when the nurse who came by the night I woke up from the coma bumped into me.
"Ms. Clarke, it's so good to see you up and about, I heard you were coming in today. Are you alright?" she asked when suddenly she pressed her finger to her lips and looked up in thought before I could answer her.
"I almost forgot, here is a bag full of your personal belongings I found in the drawer of the room you laid in. It was placed there after we took it off of you after the accident. I put it in this bag and stored it for you and meant to give it to you before you were released, but you know tiredness got the best of me," she explained and handed me a small see-through plastic bag.
Inside was a silver necklace, a ring and my wallet.
That night I laid in my bed, the room dim only illuminated by my bedside lamp. I threw out the contents of the bag the nurse gave me and examined every piece in detail. The ring was a dress-up ring I bought at a thrift store for a party. My wallet had a few dollars and pennies inside with my bankcards and license. But the necklace...
My mother bought me that necklace with a locket heart-shaped pendant for my eighteenth birthday as a reminder that as I entered the adult world she'll still always be there for me. I struggled to open the locket, but luckily it finally budged. Inside the locket I found a photo of my mom and I that was taken the night of my prom, her hair long and brown and my dress a halter neck.
They say time is relative, a mere illusion that haunt those trapped within its imaginary limits, and then it struck me like lightning...
I did die that day in the car accident. Death and time go hand in hand - I died in one timeline but woke up in another where small differences defined reality and the flow of time as we know it...
