J: Alice #1

I am already dead. Or as close to it as possible. They keep bringing
in my children so surely I am dead. Anyone who knows me knows my
children are the final nail in my coffin.

They don't know me, though. This is what you get when you call the
phone company and insist on an unlisted number. Try your life unnoticed
and your door will swing and swing.

Before my sister took him away, my son came and sat here for days until
I told him to go home and go to school. He said no, he was okay, school
would be fine without him. How do you argue with that? School. I have a
college degree and look where I am.

They have finally removed the tubes from my arms. This is a good and
bad thing. When you can move and it hurts, it's good. When you wonder
if your cries in the absence of a doctor go unheard, that's a bad
thing.

Could I sit up, say hello? No. Could I move my big toe and hope for the
best? Maybe. Will I die? Yes.

I wouldn't mind my son sitting over there right now, eating my
chocolates and laughing at the television.