Sight. [story]
Posted: Mon Mar 31, 2008 5:59 am
Reply to this...I'm not sure about it yet... I need feedback.
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Sight.
I can't see anything in this place. I can't even dream.
Its dark here, and cold. Theres no light, but there are people, I cant see them either, but they brush against me, I call out to them, but they dont reply, only bump me and move on, their touch is like feathers, too light to really be people, but thats what they are. I dont know how I know.
And then there are the voices, they come from the depths of someplace, echoing, they're calling me, one way, and the other. The loudest ones call me forward, but they're unfamiliar voices, scary. The softer ones I recognize; my mother, my father, my sister. And some other ones, they're talking about things I don't understand, things like head trauma and collapsed lungs.
I want to go back to the softer ones, but my feet wont move that way, only forward, forward is lighter, it gets brighter, but colder too. I still cant see.
But now, not I can see something:
Me.
Lying on a bed, tubes running from my arms, legs and chest, bandaged from head to toe. I can see my family too, but only just. I cry out, reach for them as panic and understanding overwhelms me. I dont want whats happening, I know whats happening; I spin, away from my parents and sibling. Away from the white bed, away from the world.
No, no, no! I scream silently as the darkness takes me again. No, no, no! I dont want this; Im not ready for this, not now!
I feel. Feel my legs and arms going cold as my surroundings for an instant, before glittering warmth glides up and down my terrified body, I shiver, I calm, as a light, an apparition of such beauty that it made my very soul tremble, reaches down and brushes away my tears, I sigh, I sleep, my sight dims
In the hospital bed, a curtain is pulled, a cry of grief is heard, and a mind sends one last frantic signal to a failing heart before shutting down, a pool of sight dims, and a doctors solemn voice records:
Time of death, 12.32 PM, 1998, November 21st "
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Sight.
I can't see anything in this place. I can't even dream.
Its dark here, and cold. Theres no light, but there are people, I cant see them either, but they brush against me, I call out to them, but they dont reply, only bump me and move on, their touch is like feathers, too light to really be people, but thats what they are. I dont know how I know.
And then there are the voices, they come from the depths of someplace, echoing, they're calling me, one way, and the other. The loudest ones call me forward, but they're unfamiliar voices, scary. The softer ones I recognize; my mother, my father, my sister. And some other ones, they're talking about things I don't understand, things like head trauma and collapsed lungs.
I want to go back to the softer ones, but my feet wont move that way, only forward, forward is lighter, it gets brighter, but colder too. I still cant see.
But now, not I can see something:
Me.
Lying on a bed, tubes running from my arms, legs and chest, bandaged from head to toe. I can see my family too, but only just. I cry out, reach for them as panic and understanding overwhelms me. I dont want whats happening, I know whats happening; I spin, away from my parents and sibling. Away from the white bed, away from the world.
No, no, no! I scream silently as the darkness takes me again. No, no, no! I dont want this; Im not ready for this, not now!
I feel. Feel my legs and arms going cold as my surroundings for an instant, before glittering warmth glides up and down my terrified body, I shiver, I calm, as a light, an apparition of such beauty that it made my very soul tremble, reaches down and brushes away my tears, I sigh, I sleep, my sight dims
In the hospital bed, a curtain is pulled, a cry of grief is heard, and a mind sends one last frantic signal to a failing heart before shutting down, a pool of sight dims, and a doctors solemn voice records:
Time of death, 12.32 PM, 1998, November 21st "
Creepy! 