It was cold, so cold after that. Pictures and images swirled around my head, or at least, the black spot where my head would normally be. I have no limbs, I'm just an empty box. A sad, ice cold box. Then there is another white flash and I see a girl, in a hospital cot. A surgery? No, just purple foam everywhere.
I see my mother and my sister crying. I see my father, who I haven't seen since I was 2, kissing me on the forehead. I see my long locks of brown hair being shaved off onto the ground. Flashes of flowers, teddy bears, get-well cards
My thoughts are written around me, music, and words, and dancing. But at the same times there is nothing. And it's so cold. I have to get out of here! I try to run but I have no legs, no body. I no onger exist in the way I used to. I'm a cold, empty box. Visions flash before me, visions filled with life. My life. But my life isn't here anymore.
The blackness proceeds, no designated time it continues for.
YOU ARE READING
Morning Dew
ChickLitAriana used to have a pretty normal life, at least, until she was seven years old and hit by a car, sending her into a 7 year long coma, and leaving her life in a smashed pile of bits on the ground. She must re-live her childhood and learn what it...
