Act 2

While I was sleeping, I had a dream about the world of the theater. Several people entered the stage and performed a play that I had never seen before. Suddenly, Camille entered, wearing the same red dress and the usual red shoes, attracting all the attention because, as usual, she was the center and the focus of the play. I was happy to witness the spectacle.

It wasn't long before the curtains closed and everything around me was dark and cold. The stage was gone and I couldn't see anything around me. My consciousness seemed to gradually return, and I felt as if I were waking up. I couldn't tell the difference between the dream I was having and where I was. I slowly opened my eyes and found myself in a bed again.

When I looked around, everything was different than when I had fallen asleep. The whole hospital had changed, with many more modern machines and different equipment. It felt like I had only been asleep for a few hours, but what had happened?

As long as no one appeared, I decided to stay quiet and rest; I felt I needed it. I stared at the white ceiling for what seemed like hours.

The sound of the door opening interrupted my thoughts.

"Daughter, how are you feeling?" my father asked.

"Mom, Dad?"

They both entered with the doctor.

"Yes, dear," my mother replied.

"You look so different," I thought. "I didn't remember Dad having so much white hair. How long have I been asleep?"

They exchanged glances and seemed reluctant to tell the truth.

"You've been asleep for 20 years," they finally said.

At the time, I didn't quite understand what they were saying, perhaps because my body was weak and my mind was elsewhere. My parents hugged me as they cried, and I couldn't say a word.

"Sorry to interrupt, but we need to talk," the doctor said.

The doctor had been old before, but now he seemed much older, and there was no sign of the assistant who was always with him. He placed a chair next to the bed so that he could be closer to me.

"Emília, I have good news. We have found a cure for your illness. The hospital has changed a lot since the last time you were 'awake,' and it's all thanks to the discovery of this cure," he said weakly and hoarsely.

"We have won awards and a lot of money for these discoveries, as they have been crucial in curing other serious diseases like yours. That's why the hospital is expanding to accommodate new patients," he said, obviously pleased with their achievements.

Of course, I was happy for their success. I would hate for others to go through what I had experienced, but it made me more curious about myself than anything else.

"Does that mean I can go home?" I asked excitedly.

But the smile disappeared from his face.

"Unfortunately, no. The treatment will take some time. But in a few years, we'll be able to cure you completely."

"Excuse me for interrupting, but I still don't understand what the problem is," my father asked.

"The problem is that we'll have to put Emília to sleep several times over several years in a state of slow aging. The medicine is painful and works slowly, but it can definitely cure her.

At that time, I didn't fully understand how this would change my life and I was completely confused, but I was focused on my dreams and I would accept anything that would cure me. I wanted to walk again, especially to dance.

Before I could answer that I wanted the treatment, the doctor realized that I didn't understand. He asked me, "You probably won't be able to spend much time with your parents. Is that okay?"

Only then did it sink in and I understood what the conversation was about. My parents were everything to me; they helped me, supported me, and tried to cheer me up during those difficult times. Suddenly, my happiness about finding a cure disappeared in the face of this difficult decision.

"Emília, dear, we have talked and we think you should accept. It's what's best for you," my mother said.

"But, Mom... and you?"

"We'll be fine as long as you're fine. We want you to live and fulfill your dream. The choice has to be yours."

Even today, I don't think it's a good idea to leave such a difficult decision to such a young girl. Even if I were older, I wouldn't know what to say.

After thinking and feeling sad for a while, I answered, "Do whatever is necessary.

My parents and I cried. "I will miss you," I told them.

"We will visit you whenever we can," my father said.

The doctor got up from his chair, left the room, and returned with a tall, well-dressed man with short hair. He looked tired and wore a white coat with a Red Cross pin on it, just like the doctor.

The man handed me a red object. "Since you have agreed to begin the treatment, I will give you this bracelet. Keep it on your wrist at all times. We'll begin the preparations," he said.

I put it on as soon as I received it.

"The bracelet is red, just like your dress," the doctor said weakly, smiling.

The number "#001" was highlighted on the bracelet, which had fascinated me for many years, probably because I was the first patient and the number made sense.

"Emília, I'm sorry, but this will be the last time you see me. Dr. Christopher will be taking over the hospital now," the doctor said as he pointed to him.

"We already know each other, little Emília. I'm glad to see that the cryopreservation worked and that you're doing well."

It was only when I heard those words that I connected the dots, seeing the pin on his lab coat. He was that skinny, awkward kid who was always with the doctor. Who would have thought that he would take over the doctor's position? It made sense, since they were always together, and he must have learned a lot in those 20 years.

"I really hope you get better, Emília. I'll leave everything to Christopher," were the doctor's last words.

I didn't say much because I was emotionally and physically shaken. But I'm grateful for their well wishes, their efforts to heal my condition. I feel privileged.

In the following days I stayed "awake" to regain my strength and to eat. It was difficult to get used to the wheelchair. The hospital had grown considerably since the last time I was able to look around; there were many more patients, and it seemed like more were arriving. Everything was different. Where there used to be just the doctor and his assistant, the hospital had hired more nurses to deal with the overflow of patients.

It was hard to get anyone's attention in the hospital, but sometimes Christopher would come to check on me. On a few occasions I was able to talk to him. He told me how important the doctor had been in his life. Christopher pursued a career in medicine not only because of the influence of his "mentor," but also because of his grandfather. The two had been great friends. I asked him about the pin he always wore on his lab coat, and he told me it was a significant gift from his grandfather, who had fought in the war. It had a great story of heroism behind it, something that had motivated his grandfather to become a doctor and could motivate him as well. I liked the story.

It wasn't long before the time came to return to the chamber, and of course I was afraid. This time I had to take another injection in the chamber, and just like last time, everything started to fade away until I fell asleep.