Duress

A car accident left me in a coma. The machine registers very little brain activity.
“She is gone,” my family thinks. “No hope left.”
But I am here. I can hear them. I can feel them. But, they can't hear me. I scream and shout, but nothing. I can't move any parts of my body. I lay in this hospital bed, hoping and wishing for someone to hear my cries. I have a month left; only a month left to wake up or find someone who can hear me – someone who can understand that I am still here and not gone.

Till then, I remain trapped . . . trapped in this state of duress.