Coma

VII

The days went by alike the ones to the others, with the doctors spreading confidence to Luigi’s brother: “You can see the improvements”, they said to him. “The patient is acting good. His body is reacting in a good way to the suffered trauma”.

Mario was happy listening to these words, but after all he couldn’t wait to be witness of his brother’s awakening, to hug him again.

He wanted to see him like he remembered him before the accident: he was always happy, lively and, most of all, he walked with his own legs.

“He will need a little bit of rehabilitation: staying still for days in the same position, surely his muscles will lose strength. For a period of time he will have to do some exercise, to fully recover”, one of the nurses explained to him.

“He will do whatever it takes to be back to normal”, Mario Mazza confirmed, “He’s a willing guy, so he surely won’t have any problems to engage himself that way.”

“He will follow an accurate program, that will bring him to gradual, but also total rehabilitation.”

“Good, thank you for all that are you doing. We trust your experience.”

“Now, if you don’t mind, I would like a coffee”, said the nurse.

“Don’t worry. I’ll come with you, I need one too” answered Mario.

They went in the corner where the vending machines were, at the end of the corridor.

There was one for hot drinks, one for iced drinks, one for salty and sweet snacks and one for stuffed sandwiches.

Mario put the money and selected a classic espresso, while the nurse, using a magnetic key given to the staff of the hospital, chose a chocolate cappuccino.

“Sometimes I feel a little spoiled”, said the man.

“It’s good to allow yourself to make an exception to the rule. We all should do it now and then”

They drank their beverage and then each of them went his own way. “Now I have to leave you”, said the nurse, “I have a few things to do”

“Don’t worry, I’ll let you go. Thank you for your company.”

Mario Mazza went towards his brother’s room and stopped in the hallway, knowing that he couldn’t go inside.

He was glad that his brother’s conditions were getting better day by day, and that was enough to him now; once completely healed, he would have the chance to stay with him and make up for lost time.

One week to go and everything was going to be back to normal. Almost, at least.

He stayed until the end of visiting hours, then he got out and went home: another day passed by.

VIII

I’m driving, I don’t know where to. I found myself here alone, in the middle of a homogenous black of this room, with a steering wheel in front of me, my only certainty. That’s all I could see, the steering wheel.

I don’t understand what happened to the rest of the car. Because I am inside a car, right?

“Hey guys! I know that you are somewhere. Am I in a car? Can someone confirm it?”

No one is answering. Where is everyone gone?

They’re hiding, that’s the truth. They don’t want to be seen. They’re pranking me. A really bad prank.

I touch the darkness with a hand, but without feeling anything; I can’t feel the air moving, I don’t feel hot or cold…

I keep not understanding where I am, but I’m sure I’m alone. Who brought me here, left, or hid somewhere close.

“Come on, show up! I know you’re here”

Nothing, I got no answer.

What place is this? A basement? It doesn’t give me the idea of being a corridor. It rather seems like a closed space, a room.

At least that is my impression, it’s what I can guess from the elements I have at hand. If I had some more information, maybe I could have more certainty on my situation. I don’t even know if I’m in danger, I don’t know what to expect in the immediate future. Deep down, I still don’t know anything that could be helpful to understand.

How much time spent since I got here?

I realize that any of the questions I asked myself is having an answer; I don’t like it, I’m a person that based on certainty every moment of his life, and losing them could, long-term speaking, bother me.

Is it possible that there’s no one whom I could ask for help? Any kind of help…

I also gave headache, so I wouldn’t mind taking a painkiller, bit I don’t know who I could ask it.

“Is there anyone?”, I shouted, but as an answer I only get silence.

“I need something that makes this headache go away! Please, if someone is hiding there, it’s time to come out!”

I can’t see anything, the place seems empty, besides the car I’m in.

I already saw this scene somewhere: me, on my own, on this vehicle.

Darkness reigns all around, where is everybody?

Someone besides me exists in this World, or not?

Oh my God, in my head is making its way a quite worrying thought, or at least it is for me: what if, by any chance, I’m in another World? In a parallel word to the one where usually humans are?

Have I been kidnapped by the aliens?

I hope I will have an answer about all the question marks that are growing inside of me. And I hope I will have it soon, or I could take the risk of going crazy.

If there’s some kind soul somewhere around that would know something more about the few things I know, I’d like that he would show up and explain the situation to me.

No one is showing up. No one come out, they’re all cowards, sissies here because they know they’re wrong and because they know that I could kick them for what they’re doing to me.

“Show up, have the guts for your actions!”

Nothing changes. No one answers.

I have nothing to do but wait, but I hope that soon someone explains to me what’s going on here, because soon I will lose my patience, and when I lose my patience… every man for himself.

IX

Every now and then, thinking about what he went through with his younger brother and seeing the current health conditions, Mario Mazza got tears in his eyes.

He looked after him since they were children and has always been next to him during the following years; they lived many happy moments.

They had similar characters, other reason that made them get on well, and they felt really good when they were together.

The image of a smiley, playful Luigi came to his mind and he remembered only a few sad moments, since his brother, like him, was positive and optimistic for nature.

Although the discrete age difference and the belonging, as a matter of fact, to two different generations, Luigi and Mario together were a good pair: they compensate one another and between them there was an almost indescribable understanding.

It was like they were best friends: the one considered himself the perfect half of the other, at lest under certain points of view, and this situation became stronger and stronger as time passed by, especially after Mario was widowed.

Luigi felt in his debt for all that the older brother did for him: “some things you can’t forget”, he told him the day his wife died, “I’ll always be next to you, always”

And Luigi kept his promise.

Not even a day passed by without them seeing each other, or, for the worst, talking to each other on the phone, usually they always knew the other’s appointments, when they felt the need they asked and gave each other advices.

It was a long time that they both were single and, even if they mutually agreed to live in different flats, they still felt together, the one next to the other.

Sometimes they had like the impression that, in the long term, they developed some sort of telepathy between them, and that developed it with time. They understood each other right away, it was like they transmitted their thoughts with a gaze, and often they didn’t even have the need to talk to decide certain things.

I never thought that all of this could be broken in a few seconds, thought Mario while he found himself before his brother’s body, lying motionless in a comatose status.

Luigi’s conditions kept getting better day by day, or that at least was a good news, but seeing him always there, in the same position, put Mario in an uncomfortable situation: he felt a knot in his throat that would hardly be dissolved before his awakening.

All the days passed by like that since the accident: they all were alike, like photocopies.

And even that day the night came without that Mario Mazza realized, so immersed in his thoughts he was.

When he was awakened from a servant’s voice that invited him to leave the hospital because the time to visit the patients was over, the man walked towards the exit, went down the stairs and, with the coat well closed, he prepared to face the bad weather: outside it started to snow.

X

I’m driving, I don’t know where to. I’m here alone, for a few days now, with a migraine that pulses in my temples at a variable intensity and no one that could help me let it go. Sometimes I feel like dazed, stunned by the pain.

I try not to think about it, but that is pointless because the headache persists anyway.

I’m still sitting on the only seat of this car, I see the steering wheel before me, but now I decide to take my hands off and stretch them along my hips: I could never drive with such a strong headache.

The darkness around me endures and from time to time I touch it lightly with my fingers, as to find a solution to all my problems.

Despite my attempts to understand where I am, I haven’t understood anything yet and that is starting to get on my nerves: when I am missing assurance, it feels like I am suspended in air.

I can’t see anyone here, I can’t hear any noise around, maybe I am isolated from the rest of the world, rolled up in darkness, under a soundproofed glass bell.

Turning at my left, I feel like seeing a shadow, but it stays quite vague at my sight. That, though, gives me hope, I start to think that there’s someone like me here, even though this “someone” wants to stay anonymous, he doesn’t want to be recognized, maybe because he’s scared of something.

I try to be careful to the possible movements, to try to see again that shadow, but I don’t see anyone anymore.

Maybe there never was anyone there besides me, and the shadow that I saw was only in my head, it was result of my imagination.

Is this sort of isolation having some kind of negative effect over me? On my body, but also on my mind? Is it destroying me psychically, slowly wearing me out?

I hope not, in the meanwhile I see that shadow again, as it passes sneakily and hides somewhere, moving from time to time.

That’s what’s going on: someone is playing with me.

Yes, I’m starting to be sure, but that’s a game that I don’t like at all, you know? Where are they hidden? I can’t see the shadow anymore.

Actually, I can, I’m seeing it, here next to me, so close.

I turn to my left and see something: the outline of a human figure, of a dark grey tone, that I can distinguish in the middle of the dark unvarying black thanks only to this light tone difference.

“A painkiller”, I say, “I need a painkiller”. But how can I think to get something, an answer of any kind, from a flimsy presence?

The human-alike pulled back after a few moments and I stay once again alone, trying, for a few moments, not to think of anything, hoping that in the meanwhile my headache goes way too.

A question arises: where am I now, time passes by or stays still? It feels like being out of the world, in a parallel world, or in a place, in a system, isolated from the rest thanks to an air bubble or a glass sphere. Where am I?

I have an annoying headache. Can someone help me? Give me something that makes it go away, or at least that it’s able to alleviate it. If it stays like this, my temples will explode in a few hours.

I see that shadow again.

It is coming close to me again, arriving at my left.

He looks at me… so to speak. It’s inconsistent, like a halo, without a face, but if he did have it, the gaze would have been in my direction, at least one meter far away.

“A painkiller”, I say, “I need a painkiller. It hurts like hell!”

The weird presence goes away again; it seems almost like he comes here to me with the purpose of stay a few seconds staring at me and, right after, go away retracing his steps.

Who is he? Or should I say: what is it? I don’t know, but I want to.

Many thoughts are born and evolve inside me, I’m racking my own brain, I’m in confusion, and I have to try to make clear many things: where am I and why, how long have I been here and how long do I have to stay still…

And yet: could I reduce time? If yes, how?

All these questions do nothing but make my migraine worse, so I close my eyes and try to relax, waiting for some change and for someone who can help me get out of here.

XI

Days went by and, although the doctors were optimistic and made Mario Mazza imply that his brother was going to completely recover in a few days, he was always brooding, and he would have been until he didn’t see with his own eyes Luigi walking on his own and go back to his normal life.

Like everyday after the accident, once again memories came to mind, in which he got lost, sometimes smiling, sometimes barely holding back his tears.

Who knows if we could go back to have fun together, to have dinner in nice restaurants in the area of Bologna?

He was awakened by the voice of a nurse that was laughing down the hall and so he realized that he was sitting on that chair since an hour and half, in front of the room accommodating his brother, with the door shut and silence inside.

He got up to have a coffee at the vending machine then he walked back and forth until it was evening, as if he was confident that some doctor would have got to him with some good news; but clearly his brother’s conditions were stationary because he didn’t see anyone coming all afternoon, and when Mario Mazza got out of the hospital to get back home, outside it was snowing again.

Swearing and covering himself up as much as possible, he got on the bus to Bologna’s town centre, where he decided to stop for the happy hour in a pub in Zamboni street.

XII

I’m driving, I don’t know where to. I’m in a car, with a steering wheel in front of me and nothing else.

In this car there are no passengers’ seats, and all around it’s dark.

I didn’t understand the reason, but I’m sure that around here there’s someone that has bad intentions towards me.

I haven’t understood where I am: in a garage? Locked in a secret place?

And, mainly, I don’t know why I am in this unknown place. I feel like I got here by chance, catapulted here, almost against my will.

Headache is coming back, stronger and persistent. What should I do?

“Where are you? Please, I need something to make this migraine go away.”

No one is answering, everyone ran away, are they afraid of something maybe?

“Come on, get out of there!”

No way, the situation doesn’t change.

I try to look at my right and at my left, to look behind me, in the case that I could notice a movement, but I don’t see a thing.

This condition is starting to get on my nerves, I barely stand the darkness because I know that it could hide some trap, I can’t stand being made fun of by someone, known or not that he could be, at this point I can’t stand any of this. For a moment I see…

A shadow, the one that I saw the other time, it’s coming back towards me.

It’s next to be, I notice that he stops, I turn left and I found it in front of me, inconsistent and without its face’s features.

“A painkiller. Do you have a painkiller for me?”, I ask once again, realizing again, only after asking the question, that I can’t insist on an answer. Not from a shadow.

If it had eyes, it would look at me.

“Who are you? What are you doing here?”

I know that there questions, like a lot more that could pop in my head, won’t have any answer, but if I ask them it’s because this way I could find certainty inside me.

The shadow goes quickly back on his steps, leaving me alone with many unanswered questions, then it comes back.

“May I know who you are?”, I say, almost screaming. I feel like being on the limit of hysteria; I have to calm down, relax, otherwise I won’t solve a thing, I will never get out of here.

I stay for a few minutes in company of this inconsistent figure, that goes away again:

I try to follow it with my gaze to see where it goes, but I can’t see it anymore, it’s like it dematerialized instantly.

Maybe it’s all in m head, figment of my imagination, nothing is real and true.

But, if it really is like this, my mind is playing tricks on me. So: reality or simulation? Am I dreaming or am I awake?

I try to stop thinking: maybe it would help me calm down and come to sense.

I close my eyes and wait.

XIII

Mario Mazza was quivering from a few days: he knew that soon enough his brother was going to be brought out of the medically inducted coma.

The doctors confirmed it: “In two days, most likely. The cranial injury is almost completely healed: his brother did really good, he reacted perfectly.”

He was happy: he could finally start to think about an “after”; they would have gotten back to their normal life.

He almost couldn’t believe it: at the beginning he was really hopeful for Luigi but, down deep, he thought that he wouldn’t have made it.

The news was a cure-all, that changed in a better way also his mood: they have been dark days and now he had his smile back.

He thought about the happy moments together and, unlike a week before, now he started to believe that they could have fun together again like before, go back to have dinner in those restaurants that they really enjoyed testing, go to the movies, or even simply go in a pub in the town centre for a beer.

If thing really went as predicted, just as at this point it seemed to be, he had to thank from the bottom of his heart the medical staff of the hospital for how much they did and they were still doing.

At the beginning he was quite pessimistic, but by now he was almost sure to be able to let some ghosts go away: his brother was going to make it.

The next day, when he got to the hospital, he was very different from the usual: the smile reappeared on his face, thing that missed from a while; he was finally happy, and also started joking with the nurses: after a few days, now he was close to them and knew what to say or do with them, so that they smiled without getting mad.

The evening arrived in a flash and, when they told him that he couldn’t stay there anymore that day, he went out to go home, this time with his heart lightweight.

XIV

I’m driving, I don’t know where to, but I’m driving.

I’m in a weird car, with the steering wheel in front of me, without the passengers’ sears, and around me it’s all empty and dark.

I can’t figure out where I am.

I have a terrible headache that pulses inside my temples and it creates a strong pain, that grows from minute to minute.

I’m not alone: I see a shadow that comes close to me, so I plucked up my courage and I ask everything, assailing it of questions.

When it gets next t me, the shadow appears like something… I don’t know how to define it… so, it seems a halo. It doesn’t have a face, I can only see the well-defined profile, as if it was the outlined protagonist of a comic book in black and white.

“Who are you?”, I ask, but this figure doesn’t answer. And I believe it, it doesn’t even have the mouth to do it.

The human figure is turned to me, as if it’s watching me, but he can’t see me being without eyes.

It looks like an extra in a horror movie, where I am the main character. However, I realize that I am not scared, but I feel uncomfortable: I feel exiled in this car, without the chance to get out of it and, even if I wanted to, maybe I wouldn’t manage to go anywhere.

Maybe, the only way to get out of this deadlock situation, or at least the most reasonable, would be to kill myself; I’ve been here for a while, I don’t even know how long, and I haven’t had any clue at my disposal to clarify my mind. This makes me take a huge risk: the risk of going crazy.

I’ve always been a calm and relaxed person, that almost loses his mind if he’s out of certainty, of a reference point.

I’m groping in the dark, and not only in a metaphorical way.

The shadow is still there, still, beside me. It moves an arm, or whatever it is, as if he was waving at me. “Are you there?”, he seems to ask; I wave back, but it’s like neither of us saw the other one. I still can’t understand.

I move an arm to try to touch the shadow. I can’t do anything of what I want to, and it’s like unattainable.

Nothing to do, maybe it is not the moment yet for some developments.

So, what should I do? Wait a little bit longer? Who will choose when things are going to change?

The shadow pulls back, goes back where it came from, and I stay still, sitting without any chance to know what is really happening, so I decide to close my eyes: at least like this I mange to rest my mind, maybe.