I remembered the accident, or I thought I did. I thought I’d wake up in the hospital surrounded by my concerned family. I didn’t wake up at all. Well, not in the way that a “normal” person would expect. Some part of me was awake. I don’t rightly know what to exactly call that part. I guess it’s my soul. So my soul was awake, not my body, and my soul was still tethered to that body. I couldn’t make it move. It just lay there connected to machines that monitored it, fed it, and breathed for it. At times, I’d compose a little ditty to the quiet rhythmic ticking of the ventilator and the constant beep of the heart monitor. To date, I’d composed about a hundred or so songs until that girl came into my room.
 
There was a lot of commotion out in the halls when she came in. Her voice was quiet and very tense. “Daddy, everybody is too noisy in this hospital.”
 
The voice of her father tried to comfort her. He sounded a bit weary and vexed at trying to please his daughter. “I’ll see what I can do.”

She huffed in response to his words. “I know you will.”

Who is this girl?
 
“Kim!” His voice was on edge now and very upset. “Don’t bother the bandages on your face. They have to remain on so you can heal. The accident...” Her father’s voice trailed off.
 
“Daddy, my face itches! I want these bandages off!”
 
I could hear her father’s voice falter. “But your face... It hasn’t healed yet.”
 
She antagonized him. “Daddy, wake up! My face is not going to heal. I will be ugly for the rest of my life!”
 
“Don’t say that. Maybe the surgeries will restore your face.”
 
“No they won’t! I want another face.”
 
I was listening intently to this argument between father and daughter when the subject came up. This girl wanted another face? If I had the power to move any of my limbs, I would have rolled out of bed laughing at her. Everyone knows that modern science hasn’t come up with a way for doctors to replace a person’s face. I hadn’t been in this bed for that long. This girl was definitely a spoiled brat that wanted the impossible.
 
Then she said what I thought was hilarious. “Daddy, I want her face. We’re about the same age, and our faces are the same. See?”
 
I guess her father tried to reason with her. “But Kim, that isn’t possible. That can’t be done.”
 
“I bet you could make it happen.”
 
I could just imagine the look on that girl’s face, all devious and expecting the world to be delivered to her doorstep. I guess her comment left her father speechless because I heard them leave soon afterwards.
 
So there it was. This young girl wanted my face, and if she wanted it bad enough, I was as sure as dead. Then again, technically, my current state could be characterized as death. If I could open my eyes, the sight of that girl ogling over my face would have been enough to make me smile. The thought of seeing her amused me. She came to my room each day wishing for some catastrophe like a blood clot, stroke or heart attack to take me out. Well, that wasn’t happening.
 
Finally, I guess after nagging her father to the brink of insanity, Kim’s dad and my doctor came into my room. Dr. Julian Baxter was a kindly old man. I’d only seen him once before going into this coma or whatever it is. He had been in a dilemma because my relatives really didn’t care what happened to me. I guess he wasn’t willing to let me go and kept some glimmer of hope.
      
I could hear his soft voice as the two men spoke. “Mr. Ellison, I can’t fathom doing that to my patient. I won’t hear of it.”
      
“Would you just listen to me, Dr. Baxter? This will really help Kim. It will also be a great leap for the hospital. You will have a hand in the first face transplant at a hospital in this part of the country. Look at this girl. Her family is not concerned about her. She’s in misery by remaining in this coma. The humane thing would be to end her suffering.”
      
Hold on! End my suffering? Granted I can’t breathe on my own or move any of my limbs, but I’m certainly not suffering. I did feel sorry for Mr. Ellison. He was at his daughter’s mercy. And that was suffering in itself.
      
“My daughter, Kim, her face being the way it is...”
      
His voice trailed off again. Poor man.
      
Dr. Baxter tried to reassure him. “Mr. Ellison, I’m sure with the help of remaining surgeries and therapy, Kim will come to terms with what has happened to her. There is no way I’m going to end the life of this girl.”
      
If I played the scene in my imagination, I would guess that Mr. Ellison would be speechless. I heard him leave the room afterwards, leaving me with the good doctor. That man saved my bacon!
      
I felt Dr. Baxter squeeze my hand. “I wish you’d give me a sign and let me know that you’re in there.”
      
There are times during my coma state that I wish I were awake. This was one of them. The most minute but meaningful of twitches would have worked, but this body wouldn’t do anything. Soon after, Dr. Baxter left my room. I was alone again and waiting for a visit from, yes, you guessed it, Kim.
      
I’ve found that fortune can be good and bad. The good news: I didn’t get a visit from Kim for some time. The bad news: she eventually came back. It must have been night because I heard her shuffle into my room.
      
She picked up my right arm and let it drop back to the bed. I wasn’t exactly going to object to it. Dumb girl! I could almost feel her breathing on me, but I can’t recall. “I hate these bandages,” she said. “They make me feel ugly and disgusting. I want a new face, and I’m going to have yours.” And with that, she turned off my ventilator. I felt the automatic pumping of my chest stop. I couldn’t believe she did that. The continuous beep of the heart monitor turned into a long tone. My heart had stopped. I remember Kim touching my cheek as she left the room. “I’ll see you later.”
      
I guess death is not too much different from being in a coma. I just love happy endings. I was put out of the misery of being in a coma, and Kim got her new face. Yep! Kim got her transplant, exactly what she wanted. Like I said, I didn’t have to worry about being in a coma.
      
I really didn’t mind being in a coma or dying, but I had other prospects out there. Kim assured that. Being a face on a new body is a very interesting thing. Kim and I constantly battle each other for control. That girl should really learn to relax. She’s going to end up hurting herself. Mr. Ellison doesn’t worry about her too much. The staff of the psychiatric ward make sure that we are properly occupied. We’re going to be transported to an institution in a few days. That should be fun. I like my new body and the way it moves, even though it’s tethered to a bed or bound in a straight jacket most of the time. Kim should really get used to me. Our lives would be a whole lot easier that way. Every now and then the staff have to show me a mirror so I can have a look at everything, my new body, Kim’s new face.