I'm Stuck at a Hospital and I Can't Leave - Final Part

If you would have told me at the beginning of the month that I would have been the subject in an experiment by other-worldly beings, I would have scoffed at you.  The mere idea of a PA system controlling people, and being at a hospital that was keeping me trapped on the property seemed way too far fetched to believe.

Yet, it happened, and I made it out.

It feels so good to finally be able to say that.  I am no longer at the hospital.  But I can't lie, it leaves so many unanswered questions and feelings of unease.  It was such an intense experience and almost in a blink of an eye, it is all over.  That statement is now truer than any other turn of phrase for me, because that is what pretty much happened.

I suppose I should explain what all happened.

I was in the security room, typing out my last post, when I was grabbed from behind.  I guess all of the watchers that I saw on the move were headed to the security room for me.  When I was grabbed, they pulled me out of my chair and pinned me to the ground.  I fought back, managed to punch and kick a couple of them, but their numbers were too great for me to have a chance.  They held me down and let loose that silent scream that tore my head into pieces.

That was it, that's the last thing I remember about my ordeal.

When I awoke next, I was in a hospital bed, attached to different machines and devices.  I freaked out a bit and tried to get out of the bed and disconnect the tubes and wires, but I stopped.  I stopped because I didn't recognize the room I was in, and I had people in my room.  Not only did I have a nurse in there, checking on me, but my parents were in the room too.

They looked so concerned, but also extremely happy to see me awake.  I cried, I was so happy to see them.  They both hugged me, and I hugged them back.  I can't describe what I felt seeing new people after weeks of seeing the same faces every waking hour.

I didn't try to explain to them what happened to me, I didn't even try.  They would never believe me, and for the longest time, I didn't believe me either.  I asked the nurse why I was in here, and she left to get a doctor.  I tensed up in the moments between her leaving and coming back, worried that the doctor she left to get would be the same doctor who was the pseudo-mastermind of the greater design.

To my relief, it wasn't.

He explained to me that there wasn't anything majorly wrong with me.  Minor concussion, bruising on the back of my head.  But I was in a coma for over two weeks.

My jaw dropped and I froze.  According to the doctor, I've been in a coma since the first day I went to that hospital.  How could that be?!  I wasn't in a coma, I was interacting with the outside.  But only to strangers on the internet, not to people that I actually knew.  The more I thought about it all, the more I felt my mind splinter, trying to figure out fact from fiction.

The 'people' who were telling me in the comments that I needed to wake up, were they right?  Were they just pieces of my subconscious trying to make me aware of the coma?

I felt my father's hand on my shoulder and he was asking me if I was okay.  I asked him what happened at the hospital, because I didn't remember.  With a deep breath, the doctor began to explain what happened.

Luckily, the hospital had many security cameras set up, so that gave the investigation something to look at.  Apparently at 11:03 am on the day of my appointment, shortly after I arrived at the hospital, fifty one people dropped inside of the hospital, and fifty of them died as they hit the floor.  Civilians inside the hospital freaked out and ran out the door, while staff ran to check on those who dropped.  I was the only person who still had a pulse.

The hospital went into a quarantine while an investigation was done.  People don't just drop dead, so there must be a medical cause, and if someone didn't die, then maybe they had antibodies for a cure?  Except there was no disease, and there wasn't any cure.  As far as they could tell, the people who died just had their hearts give out, and there was no trace of any disease, poison, or drug in their systems.  After the quarantine, I was moved to another hospital, and that's where I have been for 18 days.  There is still an investigation going on, but it doesn't look likely that anything will come of it.

Now if that wasn't weird enough, the doctor started telling me about the tests they did to me.  Of course, after a fall like that, especially in the condition that I was in, they did x-rays and MRI's to my entire body, to make sure I didn't hurt my self even more, or make my current injuries worse.  They found nothing wrong, which was great in their eyes.

Here's the thing though; sure they saw me with a cane and cast in the security footage, but they didn't have a great idea of how serious my injuries were until they got my medical history from the first hospital where I had my surgery.

You see, part of why I went to this clinic was because my bones weren't healing properly, and the insurance company wanted to make sure I was doing everything I could to help promote healing.

The doctor showed my parents the x-rays when they got to the hospital, and the doctor showed me as well.  The bones that were broken from the accident were fully healed, to the point where it looked like there was never anything wrong with them to begin with.  Sure, I still had rods, plates and screws in my bones, but there were no traces of a break.  The doctor pointed it out to us and showed some examples.

A healed bone looks like it has a small lump around the break, made up of new bone and cartilage.

My bone doesn't have that.

He said if he didn't see the scars and the metal under my skin, he would have thought I never had an accident and I was full of shit.

I was surprised more than anything, my parents were ecstatic.  After months of agony and struggle, I was better.  The doctor even said he did a CT scan too, and my muscles looked fine, maybe even a bit better than my left side.

I couldn't say anything, but I couldn't help but think of the greater design.  Ashby said that they wanted me to be better because what happened to me was a great injury and they wanted to ease my agony.  That is exactly what happened, and no one could explain it.

When I asked for my phone, I was told that my phone was broken.  According to the camera footage, when I fell, my phone hit the ground at a bad angle and cracked the screen.  On top of that, when someone ran to my side to check on me, they stepped on my phone, not being concerned with that as opposed my my life.  I was bummed about that and a little suspicious, but I didn't care a whole lot.

I was a medical mystery, and I was going home.

I only spent another day in the hospital after that.  I hated it and I wanted to be anywhere other than there.  It was fine enough, but the nurses kept telling me that my heart-rate was too high.

I couldn't bring myself to tell them that I dreamt I was in a hospital hell and just being in a bed was causing me stress.

After I was out, things were good.  It's only been a couple days, but I'm feeling better than I did before I got hurt, both mentally and physically.  The only thing that was on my mind was whether it was a coma dream or not.

It all felt so real, but everything is pointing to it being in my imagination.  I asked my family and friends if I texted them at all on the day of the appointment, and they all said that I didn't.  I was even shown their phones and they were right, there were no messages.  I even called the transportation companies that I thought I contacted, and they all said that no one with my name or number called them on that day.

I started chalking it up to a very elaborate and realistic dream, and it stayed that way too.  Until a couple of hours ago.  I was on my laptop looking for a new phone, and I happened to go onto Reddit to look at posts comparing cell phones.  I wanted to comment on a post and logged into my account.  As I was typing the comment out, I thought about the 'coma dream', and I decided to check my profile, just to get a sense of closure.  Seeing that I hadn't posted anything would ease the rest of the doubt on my mind and I thought I could move on.

Except my post history for the past few weeks wasn't empty.

All of the posts that I made were there, along with all of your comments.

I read through everything.  The posts, the comments, the messages.  I read through them all, then I read them again.  For some reason, all of the proof disappeared, except for these.  I don't understand why these are still here, but that doesn't really matter.  What matters is that I'm not losing it and what happened actually happened.  It was a good feeling knowing that my sanity is intact, but I don't know what to do at the same time.

I've decided not to tell my parents or my friends about this.  Not only do I not think they will understand, but they might have me see some new psychiatry help, and I don't see any of that going well for me.  I think I need to just try and figure things out.

Something that I can't get out of my head is the greater design.  Ashby told me that their goal was to heal me because of what happened to me.  While I do believe that and that is what happened, I don't believe that their motivation that purely altruistic.  I believe that there were hidden motivations, but I'm not sure if they are good or bad.

I will be trying to figure that out, but I don't know how long that will take, or if anything will come of it.

I hope something does come of it though, because I've started seeing some things.  I don't know if I'm imagining it or not, but I've been catching flashes in the corner of my eye when I pass in front of windows or mirrors.  If the light is just right, I could swear I see a flash of pink.  It is very brief, but I have seen it too many times to think it is just a fluke.

I've been hyper aware of clocks and I am constantly looking to see if I have lost any time.  I don't want that to be the case, but if I happen to then I will know.

I'm worried that I will become a watcher, or that I'm under their influence.  It would totally make sense if the greater design was for their benefit.

I want to sincerely thank everyone who has read my tale and helped me along the way.  Your questions and comments helped me get through all of this.  My sanity thanks you.  I wouldn't have made it through this brutal journey without your help.

This will be my last post.  Sure, I might come back if I get successful information, but I don't know what the odds of that are.  All I know is that I got out, and I am so thankful for that.  I aim to stay out.

In a strange way, I do hope I never have to comment with anyone like this every again, because if I don't have to, it means everything is ok.

So this is me signing off.

I wish all of you well.  Thank you for your help.

- Cody S