I Never Thought Who CH 2

"Baby Girl, please, squeeze mama's hand!" I could hear her, but it was like I was in another body, I couldn't wake up or control my actions. Mom put her head down on my chest and sobbed. It was no better for me though, I wanted to tell her I was all right.

"Carol," Dad walked in and touched mom's shoulder, "Do you think maybe sobbing into her chest will make her better.

"I need her Howard!" She sighed, "I wont' go on without my darling girl!" She turned to him and rested her head on his shoulder for comfort.

"She'll be fine." But he looked doubtful himself.

"I am fine, I really am!" I shouted out, but nobody heard it. I was still in the coma and as long as I was, nobody would hear me. Mom picked up her head and wipped her tears and returned to my bedside.

"Please squeeze it Miranda, please." She prodded again. It took a lot of energy and a lot of sqeezing, but finally I managed enough to sqeeze mom's hand just the slightest bit. "Harold!" Mom's face shot to life. That was the only thing I could do. I know. Because then mom called in the doctor.

"That is a good sign, but lets see if she can do something a little bit more challenging." He took a pin out of his coat and poked my foot.

"OW!" I shouted, but again, nobody heard.

My foot didn't move. "Not yet." They all hung their heads.

"But she did sqeeze my hand!"

"She probably did Carol." The doctor said, "Sometimes these things go slowly. Give her time to muster up some strength." and he left.

Mom returned to the bed to prod some more. "Just say something, I'll settle for anything, really!" I screamed to the top of my lungs, thinking that the harder I worked at it, the louder it'd be coming out, only nothing happened. "Why did that boy have to do this to my darling girl!" Mom shouted.

"It was an accident mom! On our way to school there was a traffic jam, he probably just didn't want to be late." Again, no sound.

"He walked away with a single cut on his wrist and my darling girl lay here with a small chance of life!"

Small chance? I felt OK, but then I recalled that discusion earlier.

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"Carol, Harold, could you please sit?" Mom and dad sat in the chairs as the doctor spoke the horrible news of that crash.

"Moments before you arrived she went into a comma. I'm very sorry, but all her injuries are very bleak looking. It'll be a miricle if she ever gets out of that comma."

Mom had cried into dad's chest and hadn't left me be ever since. Not that I had remembered, but apparently my head smashed through the glass after the impact and caused some brain damage. It wasn't know what it would do or not. If I'd ever to be able to walk again, or if it was as simple as moving my big toe.

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"Carol, why don't we go home and just relax a little. Maybe pray.'' Dad suggested.

"No. I want to be here if she wakes up." Mom plunked herself down on a chair. Dad sighed and joined her.


Days, Weeks, Months passed. People were giving up hope. People stoped visiting. The only voices I ever heard were those of mom and dad's. Doctors and family friends kept insisting that mom and dad just give up on the life support, but mom reminded them of the time two three and a half months earlier when I'd squeezed her hand, but I hadn't done anything since. She refused to give up as long as I was still breathing, even if it was with a tube.

Then one day, four months and three days after the accident, I was feeling stronger and all together, much better.

Just as she did everyday, mom gave me her hand, "Please just squeeze my hand!" She was sounding desprate. I squeezed, and it didn't even take as much effort as last time. "Doctor!" Mom called out. The doctor ran in the room sounding irritated.

"What."

"She squeezed my hand come here!" The doctor took mom's place and I squeezed again. A smile appeared on his face. Things were changing rapidly.

"Harold!" Mom woke dad from his place on the chair. "Come!" Dad rushed over and took my hand. I squeezed once more. Everyone was excided.

"Let's try poking her feet!" Mom said. The doctor leaned over and took his pin out once more. He poked my toe and my foot moved back. Everyone exchanged smiles.

"Is she going to be OK?" Mom asked.

"It's hard to tell, it's only a few things, but a good start to a recovery.''

"Harold, look!" She pointed at me. For the first time in four months and three days, my eyes opened wide and I looked at my mom and dad once again and let their image burn into my eyes.

"Mom."

I read it. I especially enjoyed her conscious struggle against death, because older writers haven't touched on anything like that yet (or so I've seen). I always like anything original, so I liked it overall. There were a few distracting spelling errors, but if you put that through your computer's spellcheck, then those will disappear.

I recognized a semblance of emotion here and there, MandaPanda, but not enough! Try spending even more time explaining how sad the mom is.

i.e.- "She was broken hearted over me! That my wounds would cause her such pain was incredible. I wished to comfort her- to reach out and touch her- but I was held in the cold embrace of bedsheets, stranded for months to the loneliness of comatose."

If you do something heartfelt like that, then the reader would get to see the girl's empathy. And empathy is admirable.

Hey! So, I am using the six traits thing again. I used this on your first chapter, so if you're totally lost because you haven't read my other review yet, go look at that one before this.

Before I start though, a few suggestions/commments. Make the scene where Miranda is in the coma longer. You could probably draw this out for nearly an entire chapter. Have her parents get upset and go back and forth from hopeful to depressed, maybe have some other family come and visit her, possibly someone from school, maybe even the guy who hit her. Give a lot of details, slow down, and show us EXACTLY what happens. WHat goes through Miranda's mind, her parent's, her friends'? The man who hit her might be feeling guilty, or angry, or sad. Her mother may be depressed, may want revenge on whoever hit Miranda, etc... You get the idea. Anyway...

Ideas: Good. Very clear and focused, better than first chapter. You kept me more attentive this time, wanting to know what would happen. It was compelling and focused, and drove me right to the end. 5.5

Organization: Good structure just like last time, excellent beginning, and a good ending as well. 6

Voice: Very good. Original and distinctive, appealing, fairly expressive. 5.5

Word Choice: Excellent. Natural language, good descriptions, strong verbs and engaging language. 6

Sentence Fluency: Good variety in style and length, easy to read, good flow. 5.5

Conventions: Still could use a bit of work, especially punctuation wise, but better than the first chapter, and still certainly not so distracting that I wouldn't keep reading. 5

Okay, overall, excellent, and better than your previous chapter. Show, not tell, fix the conventions, and you will do great things, my friend. Excellent job, and keep on writing!