"Come to us. Come back, Josie." The woman's voice contained an interesting mix of both sadness and hope.

It made the girl curious. Seeing nothing but darkness, she willed the muscles in her eyelids to work.

"That's it, my darling. You can do it. Open your eyes, dear girl." The woman urged, now with a hint of excitement.

Josie wanted to do as asked, but the tapping sound of approaching footsteps, the pungent smell of antiseptic, and the cold feel of a small object against her upper chest distracted her. She continued to lie still, listening to her own even breathing.

"I'm afraid your vigil is more of a detriment to you, Mrs. Bradley than it is of use to your daughter," a male voice said from nearby.

"I understand your concern, Doctor, but if I've been able to last this long, I'm not going to give up now . . . oh, look!" she exclaimed, interrupting her rebuttal.

A sliver of light forced its way between Josie's lashes, and she squeezed her lids shut against the intrusion.

"Did you see that? She heard me. She's truly awake." The woman's voice was even closer now, and Josie soon felt a light, warm touch on her arm. "Open your eyes, Josie, and come back to us."

When the girl didn't respond, the woman addressed her companion. "Doctor, please. You must try the salts again."

"I suppose it wouldn't do any harm." The man sighed before Josie heard the faint rustling of fabric. "Can you take a deep breath for me, Josie?"

The smell of ammonia burned her nose, and Josie coughed. The movement sparked something insider her, and she slowly looked up.

The woman stood at her bed, reaching over the thin bars of the side to touch the girl's arm with one hand. Raising the other, she used her long, thin fingers to wipe a lock of hair off Josie's forehead. Her lips quivered, and tears began to flow out of her shapely, brown eyes.

"Oh, my darling. I knew you weren't gone forever." She sobbed, leaning over the girl for a warm embrace.

"Mother?" Josie's voice was weak, her throat dry and scratchy from disuse.

"I'm here, sweet one. Everything is going to be all right now." The woman straightened up once more and smoothed out the strands of wavy dark hair that cascaded around her youthful face.

"What happened?" Josie attempted to push herself to a sitting position, but found no strength to do so. "I recall going to the theater. We were on our way home and then . . .." She shook her head, not remembering the rest.

"There was an accident, my dear. Our carriage was forced off the road, tumbling into a swollen creek made higher than usual by the storm. Father managed to pull us both out just in time, but you've been asleep ever since."

"Ahem." The physician - still standing on the other side of the bed holding a Y-shaped tube connected to a flat, metallic object - cleared his throat. "Comatose. The proper medical term for Josie's condition over the last few weeks is comatose."

"Well, yes. Whatever you want to call it is of no consequence." The woman dismissed his correction with a wave of her hand. "Although there were times your eyes were open, you've been as good as sleeping, Josie. But now you're finally awake. That's all that matters."

"Quite," the doctor mumbled. Pulling his white coat closed over his vest and buttoning it, he stepped closer. "But I will need to examine the girl now to record my findings accurately."

The woman nodded. "Of course." Backing away, she picked up a book from a nearby chair before sitting down. She placed the worn King James Bible on top of a pile on the nightstand as Josie's eyes quickly scanned the other spines: 'Grimm's Household Tales,' 'The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde,' 'Folklore and Mythology: From Transylvania to Ireland and Beyond,' 'The Castle of Otranto,' and 'Cleopatra: The Royal Egyptian.'

The literature was all from Father's library, but Josie still didn't fully understand what they - and she - were doing there. Her head felt as though it was full of cotton, and the increasing activity around her was overloading her senses. The doctor - quite handsome with his slicked-down hair and smart mustache curled upward on the ends - lowered the bed's side rail and began busying himself around her. Not alert enough to care about his actions, the girl looked past him and focused on examining her surroundings.

She'd been in the sick ward of a hospital before, but just as a visitor, never as a patient. Things certainly appeared bleaker from this vantage point.

Beds were lined perpendicular to all four walls, leaving just enough empty space for a door, a small fireplace, and a nurse's desk in the middle. The child-sized mattresses with protective rails held youngsters in a variety of ages. Some were just toddlers, while others like Josie were near their teenage years. Young women - most likely of marrying age - occupied a handful of larger cots located on the far wall.

"The demands are outgrowing the current facilities, I'm afraid." Her mother caught Josie looking at one of the older occupants. "Until the new wing is built just for the children, occasionally the new mothers must spill into these wards," she explained with a sigh. "It's terrible really, especially when they lose a child. What was the name of that young woman, doctor? The one who was here a few weeks ago?"

"Mrs. Blackburn, I believe," the physician answered without looking up. He was still focused on whatever sounds were coming from Josie's chest through the tubes stuck in his ears.

"Yes, Blackburn. That was it. Poor thing died of a broken heart within a few days after delivering that stillborn." She pulled a lace kerchief out of her sleeve and dabbed the corner of her eyes.

"Shock and loss of blood." The doctor straightened up and pulled the device out of his ears.

Josie's mother looked at him with a puzzled expression. "What was that?"

"That young woman. She died of shock and blood loss resulting from childbirth, not a broken heart." He corrected, before turning to Josie. "But that's not our concern today. For you, I have good news. Your lungs finally sound clear. I think we can safely say your pneumonia is gone," he declared.

Josie looked at her mother questioningly and the woman explained. "You swallowed a lot of muddy water in the accident, darling. You vomited most up almost immediately, but your lungs remained partially filled until the next day. You nearly drowned right here in this bed." She covered her mouth with the kerchief to keep herself from crying again. Taking a deep breath, she continued. "The liquid also caused an infection in your lungs, which obstructed your breathing for weeks. Thankfully it seems that has been cured."

"What about Father?" With talk returning to that fateful night, Josie once again noticed his absence.

"Father has his work, you know." The woman avoided Josie's eyes, looking instead at the red-headed nurse removing a vase of wilted flowers from next to the adjacent bed. "He can't neglect his responsibilities, but visits when he can."

"Oh." Josie bit her lip. "And when can I go home?"

"Soon enough now, I would suspect." The doctor motioned to another woman across the room. "Let's take a bit of your blood again, for further examination just to be sure."

The pale skinned woman with hair pulled into a tight bun arrived with a wire basket filled with bottles, vials, and painful looking contraptions. Rolling up the girl's sleeve, she tied a rubber tube tightly on her upper arm. Josie inhaled sharply when the woman picked up a metal siphon with a long, sharp needle on the end.

"You may want to look away, dear," she admonished, and Josie turned her head.

Seeing into the corridor, she observed a blonde-haired young man in white pants and smock sitting in a wheeled chair. He was resting his head on his hands, which were propped on his knees. When a similarly dressed, but dark haired youth caught the other idling about, he tipped the chair forward and dumped the other to the ground.

"Ouch!" Josie jumped as a sharp pain struck her arm. Mistakenly looking down, she saw as the needle submerged under her skin, letting small droplets of blood emerge.

The girl's stomach did flips, and an uncomfortable warmness spread through her body. Her head began to spin, so she squeezed her eyes shut.

"Tea! Get this girl some tea, right now," the doctor ordered.

From somewhere nearby, an old man pushed a cart laden with cups and a kettle until he was also by Josie's bedside. After deftly pouring the drink, he handed it to her and went on his way.

Josie sipped the hot liquid, but she didn't feel any better until the needle was out of her arm. When the nurse and doctor left, Mother took the empty cup and patted her shoulder. "Rest now, darling."

The girl sighed. She somehow felt she'd rested enough, and all she wanted to do was jump out of bed and run all the way home. Instead, she was confined to this railed bed reserved for children with nothing to do. Looking back into the hallway, she was disappointed to no longer see the two, handsome young men. Instead, a couple of nuns in all-white habits glided by.

A tapping sound - as if someone was throwing pebbles against glass - drew her attention to the windows. There, a large, black bird pecked against the pane.

"Oh, they're such a nuisance, those city ravens," her mother lamented, picking up her Bible again. "Why, the other day managed to find an open window and scared that poor boy into pure hysteria."

Josie's eyes widened. "What boy?"

"Oh, Marcus I believe was his name. Came in with a bad cough, but seemed to be all better after a few days. And then . . .,"she trailed off and sighed.

"And then? What happened to him, Mother?" Josie's curiously had been aroused.

"Well, no one really knows. He took a turn for the worst, as if overnight. Fell into a similar state as you, I'm afraid." She looked at her daughter with pained eyes.

Josie looked around. "Is he still here? Is he still asleep?"

Her mother finally smiled. "No, dear. He woke up on his own and is now back at home. I knew if he could get better, so would you." She rose from her chair and adjusted Josie's blanket. "Now close your eyes and sleep. We'll have lots more time for talking later."

Josie shut her eyes, but opened them again almost immediately.

Surrounding her hospital bed, the faces of her children and grandchildren looked on with loving concern.

Josie smiled. She'd had a good life; it was time to let go.

As she took her last breath, a realization - buried in her subconscious for well over half a century - overcame her.

For those months she'd spent as a child in a coma, she wasn't just asleep, as Mother had said. She was floating between life and death, her mind struggling to rationalize the unfamiliar situation. The people she'd seen come and go from the hospital ward became characters in her altered reality, peppered with fantastical details from her readings and Mother's stories.

And it was true she wouldn't remember any of it, until she was once again straddling the worlds of the living and the dead.

Closing her eyes, Josie exhaled for the last time as her heart rate monitor switched from a rhythmic beep to a mournful, flat tone.

~ The End ~