THE MAN WHO NEVER WAS: FINAL

Aryan fell…

The void swallowed him whole..silent, infinite, consuming. There was no light, no sound, just the weight of nothingness pressing in on him.

Then, a voice came.

“Wake up.”

It was his own voice.

Aryan’s eyes snapped open. He was lying on a hospital bed. Machines beeped around him. His body felt heavy, as if it had been asleep for days. A dull ache spread across his ribs, his arms bandaged.

A nurse rushed in. "Doctor! He’s awake!”

The room spun. His mind struggled to catch up. “Was this real?”

A woman appeared beside him, her eyes red and swollen. “Aryan…” she whispered.

His mother.

“Aryan, you’ve been in a coma for six months,” the doctor said. “You were in a car accident. It’s a miracle you woke up.”

His breath hitched. ‘The crash.’ The memory of shattered glass. His broken reflection.

It wasn’t a dream.

The texts. The whispers. The maze.

His subconscious had been trying to wake him up.

Tears burned his eyes. He wanted to speak, but his throat was dry. His mother held his hand tightly, her warmth grounding him.

“You’re back,” she whispered.

The weight of everything settled in. The time lost. The struggle to return.

The doctor adjusted his IV. “Your body is healing, but your mind might take time to adjust. It’s normal to experience hallucinations or false memories after such a long coma.”

Aryan nodded weakly. It made sense. Maybe everything had been a dream. Maybe his mind had created a prison to fight its way back.

Then, something caught his eye.

A small mirror sat on the table beside him. His heart pounded as he slowly turned his head toward it.

His reflection blinked.

He didn’t…

- To be continued??