The Awakening | A President on Trial

Poker Face

Ezekiel Miller drifted through the murky depths of consciousness, caught in a hazy limbo between dreams and reality. Fragmented memories flickered like distant stars in the void—a kaleidoscope of images and sensations from a lifetime ago.

In one fleeting moment, he was back in his bedroom, the glow of his computer screen casting an ethereal light on him. He was surfing the web and laughing at memes on reddit. He chuckled while Poker Face by Lady Gaga was playing in the background. 

But these memories felt distant, like relics of a bygone era. As consciousness teased at the edges of his mind, Ezekiel sensed that something had shifted, that the world he knew had irrevocably changed during his slumber.

With a slow, hesitant flutter, Ezekiel's eyelids parted, allowing slivers of light to pierce the darkness. The sterile scent of antiseptic assaulted his senses, and the steady beep of medical equipment filled the air, a dissonant symphony of modernity. The tv in the corner was talking about Lady Gaga's role in the new Joker movie as Harley Quinn. 

Blinking away the fog of sleep, Ezekiel's gaze settled on the figure hovering at his bedside—a man whose weathered features bore the weight of a decade's worth of worry and grief. It was his father, Ezekiel realized with a jolt of recognition, though time had etched lines of sorrow into the familiar contours of his face.

"Dad?" Ezekiel's voice emerged as little more than a hoarse whisper, the muscles of his throat protesting against disuse.

His father's eyes widened in disbelief, shimmering with unshed tears. "Ezekiel... my God, you're awake."

The words hung in the air, heavy with disbelief and wonder. Ezekiel's mind reeled, struggling to comprehend the gravity of the moment. How long had he been unconscious? What had happened to him?

As his father recounted the harrowing tale of Ezekiel's decade-long coma—a medical mystery that had baffled doctors and tested the limits of hope, he felt his world turn inwards. He wanted to scream. He wanted to run. Finally his body settled on uncontrollably sobbing into his father's arms.

***

Richard Turner sat in the hospital hallway, his attention split between his laptop screen and the sporadic activity around him. He'd become accustomed to the sterile, antiseptic atmosphere of hospitals, a frequent visitor due to his brother's occasional bouts of alcohol poisoning.

As Richard worked, absorbed in the preparations for a major job, the hustle and bustle of the hospital faded into the background. Nurses hurried past, their urgent steps echoing off the linoleum floors. Richard barely looked up, accustomed to the chaos of medical facilities.

However, the interruption of a nurse nearly tripping over his polished shoes drew his attention. With a hint of irritation, Richard pulled back his foot and glanced up, his brow furrowing at the commotion.

"Excuse me sir!" the nurse said apologetically.

Richard's response was tinged with annoyance as he muttered, "Where's the fire?"

Meanwhile, a receptionist approached, her excitement palpable as she delivered the news.

"Oh heavens! He's awake!" she exclaimed, "He's awake from his ten-year coma! It's a miracle!"

Richard offered a polite smile, but his mind was already back on his work, unfazed by the miracle that had just occurred. He had to make sure the list of jurors for this case went out--

Suddenly his eyes grow wide. 

"Wow ma'am...a decade?" he responded, feigning interest.

"Yes!" she exclaimed. Her voice got lower, "Little Ezekiel has been in a coma since he was eighteen years old, his poor father was keeping him on life-support this entire time. I can't believe his prayers have been answered, oh isn't our Lord good!"

"Very." said Richard as he closed his laptop. He rose from his seat, curiosity piqued, and approached the room where Ezekiel and his father were reunited. He was white. His father, embracing his son, looked like an all-American white collar office type. Ezekiel looked a bit like the yuppie type, but Richard couldn't let this golden opportunity pass. He scanned the room for a last name. Spotting a nurse with a clipboard, Richard's eyes narrowed as he honed in on Ezekiel's last name: Miller.

Miller, Ezekiel. 

Without missing a beat, Richard returned to his seat, reopened his laptop, and swiftly typed Ezekiel Miller's name onto the list of prospective jurors set to receive summons for an upcoming trial.