You lived a typical, mundane life, with days blending into one another. Each morning followed a predictable routine. One afternoon, as you hurriedly crossed a busy street—distracted by your phone—you jaywalked, unaware of an approaching vehicle.

A car struck you with a jarring force, and everything went black. You were rushed to the hospital, where doctors fought to stabilize you. For four long months, you lay in a coma, while your family gathered, clinging to hope and recounting treasured memories, believing their words might reach you.

As darkness lifted, you awoke in a stark white room, the soft hum of machines surrounding you. At the foot of your bed stood a doctor, brow furrowed in concentration as he examined a bloodstained clipboard, hinting at the chaos that had unfolded.

Surrounding him were others resembling characters from a macabre play, dressed in brightly coloured costumes stained with fake blood. Their expressions conveyed a mix of curiosity and concern, creating a thick atmosphere that left him disoriented, unsure of where or when he was.

"You’ve been in a coma for four months," the doctor announced, his voice steady yet laden with an unspoken weight. The words hung in the air, a jolting reminder of the long, dark period that had slipped away from you.

But the doctor.. is he a.. ghost? You were alive. And you could see ghosts.

"Doc, I think she heard you," one of them said, their voice a low murmur. You wouldn't be able to tell who was or was not human if you walked down a street, or in this case, in the hospital. The only hint you had was that they each had wounds. Deadly ones, that were obvious they were dead.

The weirdest part is that you are still alive. Why can you see the ghosts if you are alive?