//------------------------------//
// Somewhere Else Entirely 
// Story: Navigate 
// by Sleestack 
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	At 11:47 PM, in room 3-1105 of St. George’s hospital, coma patient Phillip Nathaniel Stern III’s eyes opened for the first time in approximately three days. Directly following this, he jerked his body into an upright position in his bed, tugging on the IV that was implanted in his right arm, which tore the needle out from his skin. He grabbed the area where the needle was, that was currently bleeding, and called out for a nurse.
A rather surprised night shift nurse, Agatha Seacole, was the one who flew into his room as he cried out. Once two steps into the doorway, she stopped dead in her tracks upon seeing him sitting up. She had been completely stunned that the patient had awoken. None of the doctors were expecting any independent body functions, let alone full muscle and motor control, for at least another few days. But she ignored that and applied pressure to his newly formed wound and told him to do the same as she went to go get bandages. 
When she returned, she found him looking to the right side of the bed, as if he saw someone there, despite the fact he was the only one in the room. Seacole ignored this and continued to reinsert the IV and applied the bandages. When she was done with that, she asked him what he was looking at, and he had only replied only with “I didn’t get to say goodbye.” When questioned about this, he replied with, “Never mind. She didn’t...” and seemed unable to finish the thought. Upon Seacole asking who ‘she’ was, he told her that he couldn’t answer.
The next day, Phillip, referred to as ‘Trip’ by his friends, was visited by his father and sister. When they saw him, they were both washed over with a sense of relief. But his reaction of seeing them was entirely different; his response was to cry, something very uncharacteristic of him, according to his relatives. 
The doctors came and informed him that a concussion, several broken ribs, a broken right arm and right left leg, and two severely fractured hands were the only surprisingly few injuries Trip had received from his car crash. No severe or permanent brain damage had been dealt to him as far as the doctors could see. The doctors didn't have to tell Trip or his family that he was extremely lucky to be in as good of condition that he was in. But later reports from his sister, Renee Elody Stern, said that she had seen a change in Trip, that she could have sworn had to do with his brain being messed up in the crash.
Before his accident, Trip was often characterized as being ‘unfeeling and short-tempered’ by his peers, and ‘distant’ by his family members. After his crash, he had reportedly became more compassionate and considerate of others. He had actually become socially interested in his peers for the first time in what many believed was years. Many were put off by this. He became slightly more open, and would often try interacting with his classmates and peers in situations where he would normally isolate himself. He wasn’t the most talkative or friendly of his classmates, but compared to before, he was a social butterfly.
But the strangest change, according to his sister, was his reaction to one of her favorite (and one of Trip’s absolute least favorite) shows, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic. According to Renee, before his accident, he would always complain when being made to watch it and would always have a surly disposition while watching. 
After his accident, however, he made no complaints about watching the show, and while watching, seemed almost to be apathetic, and even occasionally accepting. However, when his sister would ask what he thought about the characters, or the story, he wouldn't be able to give a response, citing that he ‘ wasn't paying attention’ to the show. Renee claims that was something that hadn't changed. When asked why not, he would respond “I was looking for some... thing.” When asked what it is that he was looking for, he couldn't respond.
After months of healing and physical therapy, Trip had only two desires after his last session. For his first, he asked for his father to drive him to a Flower Shop. His father was confused by this request, but carried it out anyway. They drove to Ann's Flower Shop, where Trip ran inside and bought a single red rose. He then requested for his father to drive to the cemetery where his mother was buried. His father outwardly expressed slight confusion but agreed, and inwardly expressed a sort of relief.
Trip asked to visit the grave alone.

“Hey, mom. I bought this for you.” he laid the rose down on the bright green grass. “I’m pretty sure the rose is a mourning symbol. If not, I know for sure it's a symbol of love, and that should be close enough.” he paused. “Yeah, I know, it’s a little late, but I've got to get around to this whole mourning thing sooner or later. The pain’s a little numb, but it’s still there. I’m dealing with it little by little, mostly in the form of dreams and crying. Geez, how come no one ever told me crying hurt?” he paused again. 
“Well, when they ask, I tell them I had dreams about you. Which, I kinda did, I guess. At the end there. So I guess it counts." Silence. "What? No! Well, cause I don’t think anyone would believe me if I said that. And secondly, whoever would would think I was a pansy-ass b... oh, heh, sorry.” he covered his mouth slightly. “Yeah. Dreamt about freakin’... ponies? No, I think I’ll keep that to myself. Yes, I’m certain it was a dream. Just a non-medication-inspired dream. Yeah, but I don’t blame them. You don’t think a kid in a coma would have to worry about mood swings.”
The wind rustled some of the trees around him. “Yes. A dream. No, I don’t miss any one. And even if I did, I could see them all on TV. Actually, I’d see them weather I missed them or not. Ren’s got me watching every episode. You should really talk to her about that.” he laughed, then looked slightly confused. “Yes, all of them.” he paused for a second, thinking. “Okay, well, maybe not all of them, but...” his feet shuffled as he rubbed the back of his head. 
“God, mom, why you gotta do that? No, it’s just... well, if someone found you in the desert, and you asked them for water, and instead  they just lead you to where they thought water was, you’d still be at least a little thankful even if the place they ended up taking you had no water and your canteen was full all along. Does that make sense?” he paused. 
“Well, I never was one for writing metaphors, anyway. But to answer your question, do I miss...?” he looked away. “I miss you.” he said, hopefully. “Okay, fine. To answer your question honestly, I don’t know. There’s still a part of my brain that’s trying to convince me that none of it really happened. There’s a part that’s trying to hold onto as much of it as possible. I don't know why. I still watch the show and I don't feel a connectedness to any of the characters or what happens to them. But the world, I guess, the world they live in, I kind of care about.
But then, there’s this one, really small part of me, that I’m trying to listen to the most, that telks me that it doesn't really matter whether or not it’s real, cause that I’m here now and all that matters is that I need to go forward. But it’s hard to, you know? Cause, like, apparently, I’m not the only person this has happened to? People with cracks, I mean, I can't be the only one.
And also, my mind, for some reason I can't grasp, keeps going back to physics class. Newton's... first, I think? I don’t really remember, I was never one for Science. But you know the one. for every action, equal opposite reaction, yeah, that one. Something gets pushed, it pushes back. Something goes in, something replaces it. Did I push someone here while I went there? It's kind of scary to think about. But I guess I’ll never know.”
He knelt down and placed his hand on the cold ground below him. “There are just some things I’ll never know, I guess. But I'm really fine with that. Cause that’s how it’s supposed to work, right? No one could know everything there is to know in their universe. They’d go crazy. Err, I mean the universe. There’s only one. Probably. Guess I wouldn’t know.” he lifted his hand back up, and saw he had left a perfect, inch deep, five-fingered hand print in the dirt. 
“Oh, whoops. Sorry. Don’t know my own strength.” he stood back up on his two legs. “I gotta go. Dad’s waiting for me. But I’ll try to make this more common of a thing. It was nice.” he turned around and started walking away. But as he did, he stopped mid step and swiveled his head back around. “Actually...” he said. he walked back to the spot and picked the rose back up, tore off a single petal off, placed it in his pocket and set the rose back down. He turned halfway around, and then looked at the ground. He laughed. “Oh, shut up. It’s not like that.” He turned fully around and walked away.