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Five years and eight months. I have been asleep for that long. The last thing I remember was a bright light before my date's car crashed into another in a tunnel. David, my date, died. I survived by sleeping.
My mother tells me that it was an accident. But it was partly my fault. My stupid immaturity caused somebody's death and my almost death, too. I remember the night well. David dared me to give him a blowjob while driving. I laughed at his dare, but I teased him by giving him a hand job instead. Yes. I was eighteen. Frisky and immature. Fine. I was pretty wild, too.
I wanted to stop when we were about to enter the tunnel, but he grabbed my hand to force me to continue. I told him to focus on driving, but he kept reaching. He ended up driving over the other lane and crashed into another car. Bright lights. Screams. Sirens. They were the last thing I remembered before I went into deep space and got lost.
My father walks into my room with creases in his forehead. It's the same when he comes home after hearing disappointing news about me. Did I sleep that long to avoid his rage after the accident? His wild daughter did not only kill somebody but also put her life in danger. Worse, he had to spend almost his entire fortune to keep me alive.
The wrinkles in his forehead disappear as he shows me a smile. He's hiding something from me, and he's hiding it well. My heart jolts when a doctor comes in. It’s not him. I still can’t forget that doctor who held my hand when I woke up.
“This is Dr. Richard Carter,” Dad introduces. I look at the doctor. He’s about the same age as that doctor who held my hand. But his brown eyes are different. His face lacks the gentleness of that man. “He’s a therapist.”
Many things happened in six years, and many things can shock me. To avoid any adverse effects on my mental health, I need to go into therapy. Is it why I believe that somebody promised to take care of my heart? Was it all but a dream? Was that handsome doctor I saw when I opened my eyes part of that dream?
“Good morning, Haven,” Dr. Carter greets.
Disappointment pulls my heart down. Dr. Carter's voice is different. None of the doctors around me had the same voice as the man. I also haven't seen that man since that day I woke up. Somebody has yet to tell me why I was in the middle of the hallway to the operating room when I woke up.
Dr. Carter flashes a charming smile. I may have been asleep for six years, but I still know how men show their adoration for me. I'm not arrogant, but I used to have boys swarm over me with charming smiles. I smile a little, but I still can't hide my disappointment. Is that doctor a dream?
“We’ll be seeing a lot of each other starting tomorrow,” Dr. Carter adds.
“I hope you’ll help me get out of here as quickly as possible,” I say in a kidding tone, but I meant it.
My parents often forget that I'm no longer unconscious. I heard them talking about a dispute with a stockholder because I suddenly woke up. I don't understand why my miracle became a complication for my father. But the earlier I get off medical care, the easier their life will be.
“It’s up to you, little miss,” Dr. Carter replies.
Dad softly smiles and invites the doctor for a private talk. I look at Mom, and she can tell my worries. "I already know it is because of me, Mom."
My mother frowns. She blows an angry sigh and corrects me by saying, "It's not you. It's because of this doctor."
“A doctor?”
I slowly go numb with shock as my mother tells me the truth. A doctor tried to buy my heart because his wife needed it. I'm not angry that Dad almost sold me. I'm disappointed that the promise I heard wasn't for me. That doctor promised to take care of my heart as it was to become his wife's.
Worse, his wife died because I woke up. That man probably hates me now. I silently mock myself with a laugh. So much for dreaming that I woke up because someone is meant to love me.
"Can I know his name?" Mom shakes her head. I hold her hand and insist, "I know it's not my fault, but I should at least express an apology to him."
“Stop worrying about it. You have a second chance at life, Haven. It’s time to make it right now,” Mom sobs before adding, “You’re no longer a child. Though you’ve matured into a woman while sleeping, you have to grow up. Catch up with your age.”
I frown a little and turn to the other side. Catch up with my age. And yet, my parents still treat me as the eighteen-year-old daughter who'll make another huge mistake.
"Your father spent all our fortune to keep you alive, Haven. We suffered for six years," Mom finally starts accounting for what I should be grateful for like she always did. "You need to listen and do what we tell you now."
I need to? But how can I object? Mom is right. They sacrificed a lot. The only way I can repay them is to become a good daughter now.
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