The sunlight streamed through the window, burning my eyelids. I couldn't move my arms to put a hand over my eyes, and though I didn't particularly want to open my eyes I did. I was quite stunned and confused by my surroundings. When did I get into this room? It wasn't my room at home at all. The walls were a pale blue color, and the window was a tiny thing barely letting any natural light in. As I looked around I saw the machines monitoring my oxygen levels and heart rate and God knows what else. I saw the other beds in the room holding still figures that I was certain were dead. The curtains were pulled back so I could see the four others I shared the room with, and I was the fourth one from the door, the fifth to my right. We all laid on the same white beds, with the same white sheets, and the same blue gowns. This was very unsettling to me.

I began to pull the monitors from my body, each one flat lining as I did. It was the most difficult thing to do, I had almost no strength in my arms. They were thin and hard to use as if I hadn't used them in months. I was so confused. How long had I even been here, I wondered as threw the sheets from legs. I was horrified by my appearance. My legs looked as bad as my arms! I swung them off the bed and immediately collapsed. At that moment nurses burst into the room, rushing to me and pulling me up. They placed me back on the bed, I felt my head getting light, I heard them talking, but I couldn't understand them, and then it went black.


After a few months of physical therapy, and mental therapy, I was released from the hospital. I can't remember anything from before my coma, which I found out I was in for three years, and no one came to identify me at the hospital. So I chose the name Cereza Bayon, and I'm about 27 years old. They chose the date of my awakening as my birthday, I was given a social security number, and a small amount of government aide. I was finally ready to go start my new life. I had to. I had to pay three years worth of medical bills.

I got a job at the local cafe, I found a wonderful woman to call my girlfriend, we got an apartment together, we have a dog and a cat. I'm the manger now and we live moderately together. But recently things have gotten strange. I keep having these nightmares about a man chasing me. He follows me home and when I go to sleep he breaks in, comes into my room and attacks me. I always wake up when I see his face because he has no face. Mary Anne tells me to go see a therapist and I wish I hadn't listened to her.

I went to see a hypnotist and they helped unlock some of my memories. And by some I mean none that are good. I still don't know who the man is who attacked me, a stranger most likely, but I know where I'm from. I know that somehow I was in Wisconsin one day and then in California the next. No one came to find me in the hospital because I was hundreds of miles from anyone I knew. Now I'm flying back home to meet people I can't remember, but they love me so much and begged me to when I finally figured out who they were. I will do this because Mary Anne wants me to, because I want to know these people. But I have another reason for going back.

I remember vividly the days before my coma. I remember the man. I remember what he did to me. Every hour of torture has been branded into my mind. The therapist worked past every defense my brain had constructed to protect me from it. It isn't his fault, he was just trying to help, but he won't help anyone ever again. Not when his corpse is rotting. And now I will go find the men who did this to me and I will make them corpses as well. I will find them and torture them even worse than they did to me.

Now I'm writing my short autobiography on a sheet of paper while on my flight. I doubt I will ever see any of the people I love ever again. I cannot rest until I get my revenge. I want everyone to know that I love them. If I do return I will go to prison, so no matter what I know that my time is limited. To my sweet Mary Anne, I love you more than life. To my family that I am not going to see again, thank you for the support you've shown me. And to my tormentors: I'm coming.