The Subconscious - PART ONE - by Hajara Muhammed-Sadiq

I am as light as a feather, stiff as a board. A living being walking in her own mind. Some would call my state being in between life and death. Others, would say I'm but a breath away from being completely lifeless. They do not know how to describe my state. Neither do I. What I would say is that I am more awake than I'd ever been when I was alive. I can see, hear and comprehend more clearly than my earliest years on earth. The reason for this is one I am yet to know. Once, I read a book which described being in the inbetween- you're neither dead nor alive, it said- just a floating sense of self, whose awareness is flickered by everything around. At first, I thought I had gone, I expected a big ray of flashing light waving me up to the one place we as humans call a paradise. There was no such paradise for me. Instead, a darkness where I existed with no pain or emotion, waiting for the next thing that would tingle my senses. When I realised that I was far from death, a constant beeping sound had made me aware of it. At first, I assumed it was a nothing sound, just part of this new darkness I had found myself in. Soon after, I understood it was the sound of my beating heart, connected to cords and machines, regulating it's every move. There was hope, I was alive or struggling to stay, I thought. The next ray of hope came in form of a familiar face- one whom I once called mother. I was bursting through my seams, grasping for her, wanting to tell her, to beg her to free me of this unknown place I had found myself in. How futile my attempts were. I watched her sit beside me, take my hands in hers, cry her eyes out and whisper comforting words. This was when I realised, this wasn't death. I was in a long sleep. The kind of sleep we as children read in fairytales and believed true love could break. In my case, true love would do no such thing. I could hear the words, the whispers, the tears, prayers of people, doctors, nurses, family, friends who came by day in and day out, sat by my bedside and wished I would wake up. How could they not tell that I could hear them, see them? How could they not see how badly I wanted to be free of my dark cage?I pondered over what happened to me. How did I get here? When did I lose consciousness and end up in this stiff state? I tried hard to think, to remember. What had happened to me? Had I been sick? An accident perhaps? A fall. Yes, a fall. The pieces were coming together, but they didn't quite fit just yet. I tried to recall why I was here, but this was the hardest thing I could do. Just like the awakening of my senses, a familiar face helped me answer my mind torturing question. Before I saw her face, I recognized her. Her scent, the tap of her shoes on the hospital tile floor and finally the look of victory in her eyes when she saw my eyes closed, non responsive, shut tight. A flood of memories kicked in and then I understood. The fight, the push, the fall. It was her. Suddenly, the light I once imagined would take me to my supposed paradise suddenly shone on me- so bright, I squinted, so bright, it forced my senses awake, my eyes open. I had escaped my darkness, the in-between and suddenly my eyes were met in perfect collision with the person who drove me there in the first place - my assailant.

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