Author : Jeff Deignan
Let me tell you a ghost story.
I see my sister every day, while she eats and sleeps through the minutes and hours. She walks, she talks- but never to me. The cold, white rooms always seem to threaten to swallow her as she traipses about, and me as I sit and listen through the one-way mirror. To hear her voice, one would think that nothing was wrong, and that at one oâ€™clock all was well.
I live in an apartment, in the Ashland complex just west of town. She lived on campus, before an overcast Tuesday. Elena, my sister, drove to the store around that time for some little groceries, even though the fridge was nearly full. The accident didnâ€™t hurt her much, either, and I can only imagine what went on in her head as she and I rolled through the air in her little foreign car.
They got me back after a few tries, some surgery, and a coma. But my sister always insists that Iâ€™m in the ground, dead and gone. Elena hasnâ€™t responded to a single thing Iâ€™ve said since that day. And she insists to this day that Iâ€™m dead, that the bionics and machinery that keep me living, working, never brought me back after my heart stopped. Elena only talks to the ghosts in her room now, a faux family minus me.
So riddle me this: whoâ€™s the more haunted, this machine or her mind?
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