Some people say death is peaceful, calm and gentle...well I say to hell with those people. I’ve practically been ‘dead’ for almost three months now, and believe me, this is far from peaceful. I’m in a coma, a stupid pathetic coma that for some strange reason I can’t get out of. And if you’re wondering how I got into such a state, it all started on the 4th of July 2003.
Summer break, the one time in a year when almost every girl and boy over the age of 18 gets trashed for three consecutive months. What more could a guy ask for...girls in bikini’s, alcohol and most importantly; NO SCHOOL!. But thats was not the case when it came to me. Drinking whilst driving was not the brightest idea, especially at 3 am. But now two deaths and one coma later, I think everyone realized that it’s not the smartest thing that Steven has come up with.
I’d like to say that Steven is an idiot, but I think that’s an understatement. Driving at 180 km’s/hr on a secluded highway is not the safest thing to do but eh, what would we have known. The night pretty much went like this; Guys. Girls. Alcohol. Driver under the influence. Cars. Speeding. Truck. Loud noises. Screaming. White light.
So now I’m left here in a foreign hospital, lying on a very uncomfortable bed, listening to the doctors talking about me like there’s no hope left. Everyday the doctor comes in and has a deep and meaningful with my mother about how there is nothing more they can do, and how they should turn off my life support. In my opinion I think that the doctor should keep his mouth shut and mind his own business. My mum is pretty much my whole life, we have been through everything together. Since my fathers death, my mother has always tried to keep a positive environment, mainly around me. But now I can hear the stress in her voice, the sadness, the anxiety, I need to get through this, for her.
11th June 2003.
“I love you” Mum said grinning at me whilst I was helping her with the groceries.