Looking down from heaven

Hospital sounds of failure.

Chloe's PoV
I could hear the sounds of hospital beeps.

I heard the chaotic hubbub of the hospital screams and yelps around me.

The sniffles of the newly diagnosed patients, knowing the limited life they have awaiting them.

The splitting sobs of mothers and fathers resting their hands against their cold, crippled child's body.

Knowing that they will never hear the shriek of laughter and joy from their motionless mouth again.

Knowing that their lives will never be the same.

The squeaky laundry trollies and the hallway of chatter.

Nervously awaiting their fate.

Life or death.

I could hear my heart monitor slowly fading and fading.

And the murmurs of the Doctor that my cut was fatal.

And the snappy, strident shouting of my parents asking how they both didn't notice my depression.

How they should of asked me if I was okay.

Blaming it on each other.

When really, they know, it was there faults for not noticing me.

I was invisible.

Moulded into the wall.

Then I realised,

My mum must be alive.

And my desperate rasping body tried to escape the blanket of death that engulfed me, laughing how I'll never see her face again.

How I brought it upon myself to make her alive moment grieved because of my selfishness.

I needed to escape death.

The heart monitor started bleating out faster and faster.

A hushed silence aroused in the room, broken by a thick gasp of amazement. 

My heart started pounding.

My eye lids blinked open.

I took a breathe and then another.

Then I rapidly jolted up right.

And that's when my life began again.