I'm Asleep, If Anyone Asks,

My eyes shot open, the light around me was bright and it was hot. Was I dead? Did I succeed? …Did I go to Hell?
“Where am I?” I asked out as I lay on the floor. Turning my head, I saw rocks; dirt and dust lying along an endless blue horizon as heat waves buzzed along the skies. I felt like a piece of bacon in a frying pan. I turned my head the other way, and saw an old rickety building.
I sat up, eventually getting the feeling to stand up. This place was desolate; that’s exactly what it was, a desert.
“You’re in Neewteb-ni, my friend,” said a girl sitting on the wooden porch in front of the rickety building; carving what seemed to be a little Indian figure. “What? Is that like Japanese or something?” I asked dumbstruck. She stopped carving, then stood up and walked over to me, “No,” she said reaching out a hand, “it’s where you are right now, and it’s where I am and everyone else who happens to pass here,” I reach out to grab her hand as she pulls me up.
“Who happens to pass?” I ask confused as I brush the dirt off my jeans. “Do you have corn in your ears?” she asks in a slight laughing tone. “I just mean…what is this place?” I look and see she’s still holding onto my arm and at that moment, I see my cuts; bare open but not a drop of blood to spill, I yank my arm away in a slight shock.
“Well,” she says puzzled, “it’s not Heaven and it’s not Hell so I guess this is like the waiting room.”
“Waiting room?” I ask questioning again, she shoots me a glare and I shoot back an apologetic look. “Well technically, that is what Neewteb-ni is; it’s just a waiting room between Heaven and Hell,” she points over to a big billboard with flashing lights like the ‘Welcome to Fabulous Vegas’ sign. “Was that there before?” I ask in an almost certain tone.
“You ask too many questions,” says the girl as she shakes her head. “Well, can I just ask you one more question?”
The girl sighs and brushes her blonde hair from her blue eyes, “sure, what the Hell, I’ve got all eternity,”
“Do you have a name?”
“Olympia,” she smiles. I smile back at her, “nice to meet you, Olympia,”
“Do you have a name or do I have to call you stranger?”
“Monica but...everyone calls me Isis,” I reply. “Why, Isis?” she asked. "It's my middle name and...I guess it just had more of a ring too it,"
"Well, Isis," she says as she turns her back to go sit back on the porch, “get comfortable ‘cause Lord knows how long you’re going to be here,”
“Why?” I ask, “How long have you been here?”
She sighs as she picks back up the wooden carving, “Longer than I can remember…”
“So how did you die,” she asked me as if it was nobody’s business. I didn’t answer her because I knew she was looking at my wrists, “the ol’ wrist slitting trick, huh?” I nodded my head slightly ashamed.
“How did you die?” I asked. Before she could answer, she stood up in a defensive stance as she watched an old 1970 black Cadillac zip down the dirt road towards the old rickety building. It was coming at full speed like an angry driver down in Los Angeles traffic. Olympia stepped in front of me as the car fish hooked and parked a few yards away from the porch.
Two identical men, in sunglasses wearing black suits with their hair slicked back approached Olympia without saying a word. Suddenly, they pushed passed her and went right up to me; one of them took off their sunglasses and examined me closely with glass eyes. They looked at each other and then looked back at me; grabbing me by my arms on either side and dragged me to the car. I kicked and screamed, “Olympia! Help me!” I begged. She stood there; expressionless. I knew that there was nothing she could do. She was afraid and I wish I knew why. “Let me go!” I screamed as they shoved me into the back of the black Cadillac.
They slammed the door, shutting me in. I tried to open the door but there was no handle on the inside of the car. What the hell kind of junkie was this? The two men both got inside the car and zipped off at full speed. “Where are you taking me?” I shouted at them. No answer. “I’m talking to you! Answer me! What are you going to do with me?” still nothing. It was infuriating. At an instant, they fish hooked the car, ‘causing me to hit my head on the door of the car. It hurt for a second but before I knew it, the two men were out of the car and opening the back door. One pulled me out by my arm and the other one grabbed my other arm as they escorted me out into the desert till we came upon a cliff.
I was almost certain it was the Grand Canyon. We approached closer and closer. It was then I realized what was going to happen. They were going to throw me off the cliff!
"No!" I screamed, over and over as I struggled harder. It was no use.
I dug my heels hard into the desert dirt hopping to hit traction and stop but they just lifted me high off the ground and hoisted me out into mid-air.
I was falling. And I wasn't falling off the cliff, I was falling into darkness.
My eyes shot open. It was blurry; my eyes hurt and felt dry.
I looked around, gasping for air as if I had just taken my first breath like a new born baby.
"Isis!" I heard someone shout from a distance. My vision began to become one again. I could see Johnnie, standing over me. And Kit...and Jewel...Edwin. They were all here.
"Just breathe, Isis, it's alright." Said Johnnie as he brushed my moppy black hair back outta my face. I was soaked in sweat from what I could feel and everyone was just standing around me crying. "Go get her mom down in the cafeteria," shouted Johnnie, "and get a nurse too!"
I looked around, slowly taking in the air. "Don't ever scare us like that again," Johnnie whispered as he kissed my head. "What were you thinking?"
I didn't answer. 'That's the point...' I thought to myself, 'I wasn't thinking,'
I stared up at the hospital's bright florescent lights, tightly closing my eyes every few seconds to get moisture back. "Alright, everyone out of the room," the nurse commanded, "there should only be three people in this room, the doctor, me and the girl now get out, all of ya."
I looked at Johnnie as he let go of my hand to leave the room, I reached my hand back out.
I didn't want him to go. Out of all the people in the room, Johnnie was like my brother. I didn't want him to leave. Johnnie could see that in my eyes but he had to leave. He mouthed, "it'll be OK," towards me and I sighed. 'Everything won't be OK....' I thought.

After a few long hours of the nurse and doctor examining me like a guinea pig, my motor skills were fit, my mental state of mind was fit but I was still pale and colorless from blood loss and they wanted me to stay in the intensive care unit till my heart was regulated.
I laid in the uncomfortable hospital bed, staring at my left arm; it was all bandaged. Underneath those bandages were nine long stitches, from what the doctor told me. I stopped staring at my arm and averted my eyes to the door where I heard mumbling, a deep voice and a soft flutter of a voice from which I knew it was my mom talking to the doctor.
Her soft voice sounded even softer and vulnerable, I could hardly make out what they were saying but I knew that my mom wasn't happy. She sounded heart broken almost.
I laid back and rested my eyes for a second till I heard the door open and close. From the soft sniffling, I knew it was my mom.
I felt her presence as she sat down in the chair by my bed, wiping her nose as if she'd been crying. I turned my head over to her and smiled softly.
"Hey there," I said in a raspy voice. She smiled back weakly and kissed my head. "How's my baby?"
"I'm fine mom," I sighed, "just kinda...beat up."
I knew she wanted to angrily interrogate me like on Law & Order but at the same time, I knew seeing me like this just made her want to hold me.
"Honey," she said in a melancholy tone, "I just talked with the doctor and...they don't think you're psychologically fit to leave for home just yet."
I knew this would come; it was a feeling I had in my gut. "They want you to stay in the psychiatric unit, just for week or two, until they're almost certain you won't..."
"Won't what mom," I asked angrily, "do THIS again?" I held up my bandaged arm.
"I agreed to let them keep you till they felt you were safe to come home," I wasn't one to show my anger that much but at that time, I felt like I had been punched through the heart, by my own mom!
"You can still have visitors and I'll visit you every day on my lunch hour, I promise."
I shook my head, "that won't be necessary," I replied in a dark tone. I could see in her eyes she was ready to cry again. "Honey, please." she said holding my hand, gripping it tightly, "I want to be there for you as much as I can."
I didn't grip her hand back, I just looked at her. She let go of my hand and wiped her nose again, sniffling.
"I'll let you visit with your friends, OK sweetie?"
She stood up and kissed my head one last time, "I love you," she murmured. "I love you too, mom." I replied back.
That was my way of letting her know she was forgiven.