This was a story that I got inspiration for as of recent. Let me know how you all like it. This is first real story that I am attempting outside of the "Science Fiction" world that we have going on here at Literotica. I hope that everyone likes it. Comment please!
My apologies ahead of time for my writing style… the story is going to start off slow at first, but I love to give a lot of back story on my characters. I am going to take an interesting turn with this. So the next chapter of the story is going to be from Danni's point of view. I hope it does not get too confusing.
Bare with me though. I have a lot of ideas and I would like to continue this story. Please let me know what you guys think! Comment, comment, comment! I will only continue if I get good feedback. Thanks!
The dream seemed to last forever. They say that your mind plays tricks on you, and while in a coma this is truly what happens. Everything that I could remember was so vague that my ability to recall a certain event during the coma was nearly impossible. But the feeling was still there. I felt like that my whole life was reminded and fast-forwarded several times until the second that I woke up.
I really can remember everything. It just takes awhile, and a lot of effort. If I concentrate enough I can remember hearing someone say something, or the touch of a hand on my arm. Sometimes I can even recall the words that the doctors had told my family. I can remember the tears. I can remember the harsh words, the fights, the arguments, and I can remember the decision to take me off life-support. Everything.
The human mind is sometimes taken for granted. It was as-if my body knew that I was being put to death, and the will to live was there. I remember opening my eyes, and taking that one deep breath. The breath of life and the taste of fresh hospital air filled my lungs. I could smell it all. My vision took a few seconds to adjust to the months of non-use, but it eventually did. I could see my parents. Their faces were amazed. The doctors, the nurses, and the rest of my family were all crying. My life had just begun—again.
The car accident was quick. I was hit by a drunk driver and sent over a bridge into a ditch. The car rolled several times and being the idiot that I was I didn't wear my seat belt. I still will never forgive myself for that. After a week or two of constant checkups I was finally able to see my initial charts. I had a massive head injury and bleeding to the brain. I had two broken legs, a collapsed lung, a broken list and a broken nose (I didn't like my nose anyway). My left shoulder was torn out of socket and I was lucky that my neck wasn't broken. The head injury is obviously what ultimately got me.
It was three months, two weeks, six days, fourteen hours, and thirty-three minutes between the time I was emitted to the emergency room and the time that I woke up from my coma. Three months. That was a nearly a whole school semester at college. I had lost several months of time, the ability to recall names and faces on a dime, but I was alive. My mind was still recuperating from the accident when I made the choice to switch schools. It was always my goal to finish college because my parents had never gone themselves. I wasn't giving up because of some amnesia and rehabilitation.
This whole experience is regrettable. I would never want to wish it on anyone or go through the same thing again. But I can't totally wish that it didn't happen to me. You see, it caused me to get a new view on life, and ultimately tell you what this story is about. This story is about love. This story is about the girl that changed my life. The girl that brought me up from the depression, the anguish, and pain that plagued me. If it was not for this accident, not for that driver, and not for those drinks that he had at the bar prior to hitting me I would have never met her. I would have never changed my schools. I would have never gone so far from home that I would need to fly back just to see some family.
This is where my story begins.
It was only a few months since my departure from the intensive care ward in the hospital. With my parents bidding I had made the choice to go to a school a few states away instead of the local state institution. There was a reason for this. My amnesia affected me enough that I could not recall many names or faces. The interesting part is that I remember all of my lectures, notes, tests, class projects, and the games of football that we religiously played Sunday afternoons in the quad. The people though, disappeared, and the only thing that was in their place was memories of events.
So I decided to start from scratch and in order to do so I needed to move. I wanted to move. The closer that I was to home the more I would be reliant on my parents and the less I would need to rely on myself. That was my mentality and I am sticking by it to this day. But honestly it was the fact that I could not remember my friends that struck me. I would look at someone that I graduated high school with and not remember who they were. The face was recognizable but I could not put a name to it. I could not put a movie to it. I didn't even know if I had sex with a girl! I know that I wasn't a virgin but I could not even remember the last person that I had sex with! I was scared. So I decided to start fresh. That's exactly what I did.
My twenty-first birthday had just passed as I began school at a decent-sized university. I refused to have a handicapped accommodation because I would only be on crutches for a few more months. So I was thrown into a single room on the second floor of the building. After the initial mingling everything was going smoothly. It took awhile to get used to the crowd but soon I was accepted and amongst friends. The month of September had passed and my classes were going well. The rehabilitation was going well. The general focus of my life was going well. That is except my love life. That was non-existent. I guess the women just didn't want to hang out with a crippled guy. Who could blame them? I nearly gave up on women until my rehabilitation left me with two working legs, that is, until I found her.
