I wouldn’t see the empire state building if I was standing directly in front of it. I can’t feel or hear anything either. What’s wrong with me? What in the world could have happened to me to get me into this state? I’m literally just laying here not physically capable of doing anything. Wow, this is more boring and aggravating than a commercial break during Pretty Little Liars. I’m in a hospital room, I can see it. I’m not sure if I’m hallucinating or if I’m actually seeing it, but hey, seeing something is an improvement right? I turn around only to see my very own body, still as a statue, holding on to dear life itself. It’s almost like I’m in that episode of Hannah Montana when Miley has some sort of  “out of body experience”. I didn’t know that happened in real life, I thought that was just the magic of Disney editing. I can’t focus on that right now,there’s a man situated next to my hospital bed. Who is he? He’s certainly not a doctor, he looks almost as he’s known me forever. He has a horrifying look on his face, one brimming with hatred and anger. I’m asking him what he’s doing here but he can’t hear me. “ Hey guy! I don’t know you and I certainly don’t want you in my hospital room!” I’m about to slap him in his horrendous looking face but I can see a bag now, presumably his. I’m seriously battling the cliche angel and devil on my shoulders right now.
  “Don’t do it! You wouldn’t want someone looking through your personal belongings would you?”
     “Oh I think she does, there’s a strange man in here, you deserve to know who he is.”
“Well, you are right I guess.” Wow I can’t believe I just said that out loud. If anyone could hear or see me they would think I’m such a freak. The devil on my shoulder had a good point so, being the snoopy little five year-old everyone knows I am inside, I peer into his bag. Well this is pointless, there’s just a wallet and some altoids in here. Wait, there’s something that looks like it was shoved to the bottom, it’s pictures. Pictures of me. All when I was doing ordinary things. I have a stalker. Wow, you’re never really safe are you? You know, he wasn’t very smart coming in here with all these photos in his bag, someone could walk in here right now and see them, make a connection that he doesn’t know me, and get him arrested. I have to discover who this man is and why he follows me everywhere. I need to go into another room. I can’t bare the sight of my own body on life support. How can I identify him? The hospital normally keeps all the visitors on file in a binder so I might as well start there. “Excuse me, could I possibly see the visitor records please?” Wow I’m an idiot, nobody can even see me. I can just mosey on down to that binder and look there myself. Ava Parish: room 2b, Derek Hale: room 51a. I can’t find anything for my room. He snuck in here didn’t he? Why couldn’t he just make my job easier and walk in here like a normal human being and get put on file? I saw a wallet in his bag, didn’t I? I get to my hospital room and see the bag. I swear if he doesn’t have an ID I will punch a wall. Well he does, but it’s for one Amelia Marin, that’s my name. He has a copy of my ID, wow. How could this be happening? He’s a lot more creepy than I thought, and I already figured he might as well star in Paranormal Activity. Who does he think he is, running around with another person’s ID? Why can’t he be someone else’s problem? Either this is really happening or the overly sterile stench of the hospital is getting to me. One of the nurses is coming in to check up on me, you know she’s really good at applying eyelin- hold up. He’s gone. He jumped out the window didn’t he? I might as well see where he’s going. He’s really quick, this guy is sprinting down this street so fast that even I can barely keep up with him. He finally turned one last corner and hopped into his janky little 1987 Honda. I jumped into his car before he had a chance to shut the door and speed off like a maniac, but that’s not important. He’s driving around seemingly with no destination until we finally arrive at a vaguely familiar shack. I wonder if I had seen it in a dream or in real life. No, definitely real life. I remember when I was a kid I would bike past this place with my dad, I remember begging him every weekend to go on bike rides with me, but he only agreed to twice before he died of apparent drug overdose. I honestly wasn’t too sad when my mother told me he had passed. I can just see his red face yelling at my mother and I, his stubble catching some of the spit coming out of his mouth. What did my mother ever see in him? She’s so beautiful, with her long, curly red hair and perfectly average build. She could’ve done way better. I can hear the strange guy speaking to someone on the phone, he only said one phrase though, “I want her dead.” I am already aware of my fate, no matter what he does, unless there’s some sort of miracle, I am going to die. I have to remember that to everyone else in the world, I’m just a girl in a coma whose time is running out. My feet are glued to the greasy, disgusting tile, and that’s the best part of this little building, next to the ripped up old couch and dirty laundry pile taking up half of this place. He keeps on speaking for a few more minutes to this other mystery person on the phone until he finally decides to go back to the car. Even though I’m well aware that he can not see me, I still take a precaution and start to run to the hospital. It’s a good thing I run marathons regularly, because when I got here, there was still no sign of him. I guess the guy parked a block away from the hospital where nobody could see him unless they were looking for him, behind a tree and  he jumped through the window to my room after running for a little bit. You know, he jumps almost exactly how my dad used to when I would watch the old videos of him in his military training. Is he? No, my dad died over 8 years ago. My mom had picked me up early from school one day when I was in eighth grade a few years after they divorced looking a little pale, she told me the news. I felt like I had to act heartbroken in front of my mom so she wouldn’t see what I was doing inside, which was jumping for joy that he was finally out of my life for good. I hated my father so much, I used to spend all my weekends with him at a friend’s house so I wouldn’t have to see him. My mom and I never went to a funeral for him, or talked about one for that matter. I’m starting to wonder if he really died at all. My mother could have easily fooled me into thinking he was dead, knowing I would be too happy to even think about if he really was gone. Well if she did, and this man is my father, I can’t blame her for not wanting him in my life. I wish I still had her and her good judgement today. She had been having lung problems and was in and out of the hospital. After years, she was finally getting better when we took a trip to Hawaii. We were go-karting and she got in a “crash” (or as close as you can get to one in a go-kart) and a piece of metal impaled her foot. Back to the hospital we went, it started a whole new infection and that New Years day, my very own mother died. I can’t think about that right now. I need to find out if this man really is my father. It couldn’t be, I always knew my father wasn’t the happiest when I was with him, but for him to stalk me? Want me dead? He’ll get money if I’m gone, won’t he? I can’t believe my own father would kill me for cash he will probably use to buy cocaine or whatever other drugs he's gotten himslef addicted to. I need to get my dad out of this hospital room. He and I both are very well aware of the fact that he could easily kill me this second. I’m peering around to see if there is anything for me to get him out of here with. Even some kind of anesthetic or tranquilizer would do. I finally find a sharp tool, which I have no idea it’s purpose, but I don’t care. All I want to do is stab him. I don't care if he dies, I thought he was dead before so what's the difference anyway? I’m walking closer to him as he leans into my body. What is he doing now? He whispers, “Amelia, you shouldn’t be alive.” I’m in the perfect spot to get at him but I can’t move. What’s happe- he pulled the plug.