What It’s About:
After an attempted suicide Carter finds himself in a coma. He is able to hear the world around him, yet he can’t move. What he hears propels Carter to begin to see life in a new way, especially when one of his nurses, Kinley, shares parts of her tragic past with him. Soon, Carter realizes he is falling in love with her.
Months after being transferred from the hospital, to a rehabilitation facility, he suddenly wakes up with a passion to live that he never had before and a determination to find the one person he feels may be able to help him put the pieces of his life together again. However, when he returns to the hospital, Kinley is gone and Carter must try to find her based solely on the things she shared with him while he was in a coma.
Only, nothing is as it seems and Carter learns the biggest lesson of them all… the differences between expectation, perception, and reality.
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“BERTHA SHOULD’VE NAMED you Skittles, you always wearing all them bright colors and eating that candy all day.” Stan joked as he clicked a few more selfies. “You, girl, gonna make me have to start wearin’ my sunshades to work.” Stan smiled wide.
“I’ve told you it’s Twizzlers. I don’t eat Skittles, I eat T-w-i-z-z-l-e-r-s.” Kinley reached up and lowered his arm, “We should’ve named you ‘Conceited’ with all the pictures you take of yourself.”
“Gotta get the angles, girl. You know,” he blew her an exaggerated kiss.
“Or maybe we should’ve named you ‘Boring Stan’ with all that khaki you wear. Maybe I need to come to work wearing rose-colored glasses to stomach this,” Kinley motioned over Stan’s body and laughed.
“RUDE!” Stan squealed playfully.
“Gay Stan and Scrubs, I’d love to see you both in a pair of work glasses, now get back to it.” Bertha added as she passed by the nurse’s station.
“How’s the new one doin’?” Stan leaned over the counter and escalated his voice to follow Ms. Bertha down the hall.
She lifted her hand and waved over her shoulder. “Going to check on him now.”
“I hope he pops awake while she’s in there and scares the crap out of her,” Stan laughed.
“That’s not funny.” Kinley became angry, “You are joking about a man who had so little hope in this world that he decided to kill himself, Stan.”
“Oh lighten up, I’m kidding.”
“Exactly, about a man who tried to end his own life.” Kinley took off down the hall after Ms. Bertha.
Carter heard nothing, except the painful throbbing in his head. Maybe he was about to wake up as that nurse said. He hadn’t thought about what he would do once he did.
I won’t screw it up this time.
She got to Carter’s room and rushed inside, “Ms. Bertha, need help?”
“Why you following me in here, Scrubs?” Bertha questioned as she looked up from where she was tucking the fresh blanket under Carter’s leg, “You got work to do. Go on back and do it.”
“I’m actually not on for twenty more minutes,” she hmphed, “but then my work will be in here anyway.”
Bertha walked toward Kinley with determination, “Out. Your puppy-rescuing hormone is seeping out of your ears.” Bertha pointed toward the door.
It would be a waste of your time anyway.
Once they left, and for a long while after, Carter didn’t receive any more visitors, which was perfectly fine with him. The less, the better. He wanted to be left alone.
Only it really did seem like a long time since someone had come in to check on him. Soon, the only noise in the room started to wear him down. beep. beep. beep. beep.
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About the Author:
Michelle Jester lives in Greenwell Springs, Louisiana with her husband, high school sweetheart and retired Master Sergeant. Together they have a son and daughter. She is a hopeless romantic and has been writing poems and stories for as long as she can remember.
One of her prize possessions is a bracelet with only a yellow, Rubber Duckie charm on it; which she wears every day to remind her to enjoy the fun and happy things of life!