The same thing for months... Three months have passed since the accident. The accident was terrible, almost fatal. Price barely survived and has been in a coma ever since, but not a day has gone by without you visiting him. Every day you sat at his bedside for hours, talking to him without getting an answer and holding his hand without letting go. Does he even feel it? Does he realise it? Does he even know it's you or who you are? Has he forgotten you?

These questions are still buzzing through your head today, but hope dies last. You sit next to his bed again. Your hand strokes his, your gaze fixed on his face. He is pale, but not as pale as he has been in recent months. You sighed out and smile painfully.