This is a story of mine. I have been working on it for a week or two, and wanted to share it with all of you, so you could tell me what you think. It wasn't really influenced by ray, but, it's kind of sci-fi, so, reqad it and tell me what you think.

NO PART OF THIS STORY MAY BE COPIED OR REPRODUCED IN ANY WAY!!!

The Silent Savior

It was going to rain today. Michael read it in the paper. It was sunny this morning. Showers would come in the afternoon. Then it would rain until tomorrow morning. Michael liked it when that happened. Mornings were always nice after rain. Nice for Michael.
So there he sat, reading the paper, drinking his orange juice, with the radio on in the background. Country music was playing.

Michael lived in New York City.

The toast was ready. The sound of the crisp meal popping up frightened Michael�s cat, Angel. Michael liked cats.

Michael was thirty seven years old.

As he was buttering his toast, memories of years past pervaded through his head. He always remembered thinking about living in the perfect little town, having the perfect house, the perfect job, and having the perfect family. And, above all else, being perfectly happy.

Michael lived in a town of drunks, drug addicts and prostitutes.

Michael lived in a worn old house with brown shutters that shed flakes of paint.

Michael was un-employed and in financial distress.

Michael was single.

Michael was depressed, even though he only half knew it.

Despite all this, he ate his breakfast, looking through the streaked, yellow window, at the sun. He sat back down, and pretended to look for a job in the paper.
He felt his chin, and needed a shave. He walked through the cluttered half sunlit kitchen to the bathroom. The shower was filthy, the toilet had defecation still in it, the sink was covered with a crusty layer of un-known substance and, there, on the soap holder, was the year old disposable razor with a blade that was nearly rusted through. It created a brown ring on the ceramic around the blade, which was face down.
He picked up the razor, looked at it, and dropped it in the toilet. He tried to flush it, but nothing but bubbles came from the fish-heaven expressway. Michael laughed at the thought.
He looked at himself in the cracked mirror. His eyes were blood shot and had rings around them. His hair was frizzy and there was crusty blood in his right nostril.
His teeth were yellow, and his gums were bloody. He smiled to himself, and walked out.
He stepped outside, sipping yesterday�s coffee, looking at the street were poor children played with their younger crack-baby siblings. He watched as a young girl with thin pigtails and no front teeth rode her red and yellow plastic tricycle. In the background, there was a gunshot, and a scream. Michael, still smiling, did not shift his attention from that little girl.

He sipped his coffee.

He began to walk down the street, still dressed in his dirty, light blue robe and matching slippers. He walked past the drug dealings and robberies and screaming ambulances, not thinking a thing of them.

He sipped some more of his coffee.

He came to a little tree planted beside the sidewalk. It was surrounded by dog feces and flies. He looked up at its branches, then back down at its white trunk.

Mother would be proud.

He focused more on the tree now. Really looking at it. Suddenly his vision began to act strange. The tree became wavy, and it seemed as though somebody was pulling it away, very quickly. Where the tree was retreating to, there as a white light beginning to emerge. He looked around, and all of the children stopped and stared at him. They simultaneously extended their arms and pointed one finger, and started to laugh.
He saw the girl with the pigtails in front of him. She extended her hand, saying, � Come on, mister. Time to go.� He grabbed her hand, and suddenly jolted upright in bed, screaming.
There were women all around him, dressed in red skirts. They spoke a language he couldn�t understand. �Uhh! Bachadill!! Minto!!! Minto!!!� He screamed again. �Aligh!!!� A woman screamed at him and pushed his shoulders back onto the bed. He screamed again. The woman made a gesture with her hands, like a �come here� type of motion. �Vip vip!� Another nurse came with what looked like a two-pronged fork. She pressed the tips between his two ribs. He screamed again.
Then, Michael felt a calming sensation come all over his body. He relaxed his arms, and stopped screaming. � Derry quar wott rung operstat (he�s been in a coma for years)� Said one of the nurses. � Uytlitsen yuter fruy carre wok. Tur trusten, tur serfantie. Sudtyrie (he doesn�t remember a thing. Our language, our city. Nothing.)�
�Yuti rewtrustre tlecken bown (how long has he been in a coma?)�
� Opur tyriue pitrouse wert aganstacie. Jurt derfor trii buio uilytong (his whole life. He had a stroke as a fetus and was born into a coma).�

Michael slept.

When he woke there was only one woman in the room. She smiled at him, and he looked at her. She pressed a button on the wall, which lit up.
He looked around. This was obviously a hospital. However, there was no equipment. The place was totally white, and had a curtain around the bed. Another woman came in from behind the curtain. She had in her hands perfectly folded Navy blue clothes, and shiny black shoes. Both of the women left, and Michael changed. He felt like a million bucks. He walked through the curtain, and found he was in a room with three doors. The first he opened was a closet. The second led to the main hallway in the hospital. The third led into what looked like bathroom.
He went inside, and it looked nothing like a normal bathroom. There was a strange bowl-like object, which might have been like a toilet, and there was another one just like it, but it was elevated more, and had a faucet-like tube on top. Possibly a sink. The only thing the same was the mirror. Michael looked into it, and stopped.

He looked nothing like he remembered.

He still had black hair, but it was shorter. His eyes were brown now and his skin was a bit darker. He was more handsome, but he was very confused. Was this really him? He felt his face, and saw the action in the mirror. Yes, it certainly was still him. But why? Why was he so different from what he remembered? And where was he?

He went back to his bed, sat down, and thought for a little while.

He was still thinking when the nurse came in. She looked at him, from his shoes to his face, and smiled in approval. This one is nice, he thought.
� Where am I?� He asked. She looked puzzled. �Where�am�I?� He asked again. She still did not understand. He looked around the room with an intentional expression of bewilderment, and shrugged his shoulders. She smiled, finally understanding. She pointed to him, and put her head on her hands, in a sleeping like position. Michael pointed to himself, making the same sleep like gesture. She nodded.
How could I have been asleep for that long, he thought. Only a�

�coma.

My God, he thought, have I been in a coma my entire life? The nurse�s expression turned slowly from a smile to a frown. That means, he thought, my mother, father, home, everything, never really existed. My whole life has been a dream.

He began to cry.

� No!!!� He shouted. � NO!!! THIS CAN'T BE HAPPENING!!!! WAKE ME UP, PLEASE GOD, SOMEBODY WAKE ME UP!!!� The nurse came to him and started to hug him. He sobbed on her shoulder, screaming, while she made a calming �shhhhh�..� sound. She lifted his head, looked him in the eyes, and hugged him again.
She then took a cloth out of her pocket, and went to the �sink�. She pushed a button on the wall, which caused the sink to jet out water. She wet the cloth, and wiped Michael�s eyes. �Thank you.� He said. �You�re very kind.� She didn�t understand him, but she didn�t have to.
She reached out her hand, and Michael took it. She led him out the door, into the hallway, and down to a large waiting room type place. There, she stood him next to three people. A woman who was probably in her mid to late fifties, a man about the same age, and a woman probably a bit older than Michael. The older woman looked at him and smiled, and came toward him with open arms. She hugged him, but Michael pushed her away with a disapproving �no�. She looked upset, and tried again, and he pushed her harder. � No!!!�
The woman began to cry, and the older man put his arm around her shoulders, leading her away, muttering some senseless babble. The girl stay standing there, looking at him. They locked eyes for a few seconds. She reached out her hand to touch his face, but her father made a gesture with his free hand, and she walked away.
Michael, still somewhat unfazed, watched as a nurse came to their side. � Tyout en thrun yen farsom wakk restrunt (it�s better to leave him alone. He�s been through a lot, and is still in shock).� The woman took one glace back, and continued on her way. He looked at the kind nurse, and she looked back at him. She put up her index finger in a �hold on one second� manner, and reached into her pocket. She pulled out several gleaming coins, which were obviously this place�s currency.
She held it out to him, and dropped it in Michael�s hand. He put it in his pocket, and looked back at her. She took the sides of his face, kissed him, looked into his eyes, and walked away.
Michael sat down in one of the waiting chairs, and analyzed the situation.
Well, he thought, I have been in a coma for most if not all of my life. Why, or how this happened I have no idea, but my life up until this morning has been one big dream, so, everything I�m used to doesn�t exist. Telephones, televisions, microwaves, computers, everything, doesn�t exist.

Then Michael realized something

If my entire life was a coma, he thought, then everything in it, I created. I created televisions, radios, cars, satellites, spaceships, �my God, everything!
He jumped up and started screaming. �I�m a genius!!! I created electricity! I created cars! I created EVERYTHING!!!!�
People started to stare, and he realized how foolish he made himself look. He sat back down, and looked at the hospital. There were objects that emitted light, there were car-like things buzzing about outside, and there were computer-like things on the front desk. Still, even though the concepts have already been thought of in this world, he could still modernize them! He could change the way things worked, for the better. He could help people, save lives, and become a great man.
He stormed out of the hospital, walked across the street, looking at everything. The buildings, the people, everything. He saw a store on the corner, and remembered the money given to him. He went inside, and saw a man behind the counter reading what must have been a newspaper. �Hello!� Said Michael. The man looked at him, puzzled, and said �Hel-lo� mimicking Michael�s salutation. The man laughed, and returned to his paper, and Michael laughed, too.
It was interesting that, in this new world, all humans looked the same as in Michael�s old world. It must have been some instinctive thing Michael was born with, always able to identify other humans.
He was in a convenience store, which was obvious from the food, magazine and newspaper like things all around. He looked at what was the candy beneath the shelf, thinking about what to buy.
All of a sudden, a man with a black cap over his face stormed in, wrapping his arm around Michael�s neck, and pointing what looked like a gun at the cashier. The cashier put his hands up, and was instructed to do something, most likely to get the money. The thief put his weapon against Michael�s head, and pressed the barrel hard against his temple. The cashier was now haphazardly stuffing the money into a bag, and he looked at Michael with a � don�t do anything stupid� expression.
The gunman shouted at the clerk, and he held tighter Michael�s neck with his arm. This caused Michael to choke, gag, and cough. Michael, acting on instinct, tried to pull the thief�s arm away. The thief, taking this as an attack, pulled the �gun�s� �trigger�, causing the weapon to �charge up�, with a bright yellow light and odd noise. �No!� Said Michael. �I�m not trying to��
With a loud sound, the weapon discharged, sending a projectile through Michael�s temple, and out the top of his cranium. As he fell to the ground, he felt a tremendous feeling of vacating energy, like a weight being suddenly lifted from his shoulders. And, as he fell, before sharing any of his ideas with the rest of the world, Michael died, with the image of the kind nurse from the hospital frozen in his mind forever.