39 Days

Eye Sight

I can see it all now. I'm in awe, I'm alive. Well, kind of. I lay still in the bed, I hear the stillness of the white room. I feel like a cloud, comfortable, only I'm unable to move or speak. I see the boy of my dreams who I've known through the entirety of my life. He's always been quiet, and a little bit funny. I hold his presence dear to my heart, not literally though, because I'm incapable of moving. Quite literally, I feel as though he has driven a truck right through my heart. The intense pressure comes to me, but I do not feel pain, I'm anxious. I can see him, though. Almost like a dream. He looks more in pain than I would imagine I'm in, but I can't tell why that is. I don't have the choice to know whether or not he's okay, I almost can't remember one thing from a day that has gone by.

But have any days gone by?

I will never forget though, the recognizable noises of a monitor, or many, if I'm being honest. It's what keeps me sane, though, as I wait.

I wait all day, all night, sleep occasionally, but mostly wait. I have no clue how long it has been, but I know that I've been kept good company by Ian, and maybe a few others.

I would hope that my dad is with me, and my mom, maybe, in spirit.

Besides that, the only things I can do to pass time is keep company of my past, reminisce, I guess.

Growing up was easy for me, for awhile. I was a daddy's girl, never left his side. He kept me on my feet, he taught me to love the outdoors and the beauty of nature and its fruits. But when I came home, it was my mom who kept me calm, she gave me comfort when I scraped my knee, got upset at my dad, or whatever it may have been; she was the light in my life.

My dad and I, closer than ever, never had a dull moment. Never. We lived on the back roads of a small town, the greatest place a person could be. The dusty dirt roads were my favorite. I wasn't so much into the town, just the peace and quiet of home. That's what made me happy.

It all started back when my dad and I would visit the local market every morning, I was excited just to be outside in the fresh air, free and all. Whenever we went, there was always something new in season, the bright fruits and vibrant vegetables lit up the area, and I loved going to the market even to just look at everything because the colors drew me in.

But over time, I was eager to go back every day for another reason. There was this boy. A boy who didn't always want to talk to me but I always thought about him; and I was hoping that one day it would change.