How high the cost when action does not follow thought

This was an essay I did for an English project. It's very short, around 750 words. Our only restriction was that it had to be a reflective essay. Essentially, it's from the POV of a man in a coma. ^.^

 A deathly quiet filled the room. It pushed against the windows, struggling to escape the grief that stained everything there; the rustle of a child’s tissue; the sigh of a drooping plant; the last breath of hope exhaled from the tormented lips of a woman in pain. In the middle of the room was a bed, occupied by the still body of a man breathing deeply, evenly, lifelessly. A concerned doctor checked his watch as a nurse busied herself with charts, and sighed.

 

“Michelle, we need to talk.”

 

***

 

…

 

And suddenly, the familiar chaos of thought whirs through my head once more.

 

Shallow breaths thrust in and out of my lungs as my chest constricts my heart. My eyes, wide and open and free, take in the world around me. Sheer green hills burst from the lush landscape, tumbling towards the sky, pure blue and shimmering. This place is perfect, but unnaturally so. All around me there is silence. But it is no longer within me.

 

Thoughts.

 

I am alive.

 

“Daddy! Wake up, please, I’m scared!”

 

I jolt in shock as the plea streaks through my mind. A child? Here? I glance about me, though I know it didn’t come from this place. This paradise. Here, I am alone. Confusion drapes itself over my freshly-liberated mind, making the impact of the notion more severe - I’m living in a dream world. I shake my head in frustration. What am I thinking? Getting off the ground, I walk, aimlessly, but with determination. The exquisite land stretches for miles on end, the sun raining down upon me. I clench my fists, realizing that I haven’t seen night for a very, very long time.

 

This is a dream, just a dream…

 

I cradle my head in my hands. No, that’s not right. I was living in a dream, yes, but not now, not anymore… I’m something different now.

 

“… coma for over four months now… less than 15% chance of waking…”

 

Four months? I spin around, try to locate the source of these voices, but there’s nothing, nothing; they’re speaking into my mind. Trembling, I fall to my knees. A coma? Where am I? My breath catches in my throat, beneath a bubble of doubt. Where is -

 

“Julia, honey, go outside with the nurse, won’t you?”

 

I still. That voice, that beautiful soothing voice. I know it.

 

“Michelle…” I sigh, the fragile curves of her name brushing aside the silence around me. My love, my world, my everything… I force myself to ignore the ache compressing my stomach and lift my face to the sky. Michelle, my darling… I need you back with me.

 

The world flickers – I blink – my forehead creases – it flickers again. For the briefest of instants, my paradise turns black. An uncertain smile pushes past the mask of grief covering my face, and I close my eyes. I’m coming back to you.

 

“Mark… I love you… But I hope you can’t hear me right now…”

 

A giddy laugh bursts from between my lips. I don’t understand. All I know is her voice, her words, caressing every corner of my mind. Soon…

 

“… best to take him off life support. I’m sorry.”

 

My eyes snap open to find a world flashing in and out of existence. No! Not now, not when I’m coming back to you, no! I stagger to my feet, reach for her, grasp at the memory of her, stare wildly in every direction, unfazed by the fact that I’m floating in oblivion. I scream her name again and again, sandpaper scraping my throat, but not even I can hear it. Michelle, please, I’m coming! Wait for me! I love you…

 

***

 

“I’m sorry. There’s nothing we could have done to bring him back.”

 

The hollow words echoed in the hospital room, bouncing soullessly from stained wall to filthy window, and out through the drapes surrounding the bed. A doctor smiled thinly across the room at a wilted woman, and followed his words out the room. The woman didn’t move.

 

Michelle stood beside her husband’s bed, tears streaming in rivulets down her face. The silence in the room haunted her, prying into her mind, reminding her over and over that he was gone. A shudder rippled through her body and she choked, gripping his hand in her own. Her eyes never left him; her hand wouldn’t let go. Ripping it from his, she spun on her heel and stumbled away, smothered sobs escaping her control. A wailing girl clung desperately to her arm as Michelle walked away.

 

Silence reigned once more in the hospital room, broken only by the shattering of a tear drop from the creased eye of the dead man.

Author's Note

I have no idea what genre this fits into. =O

Reviews

[Clarie]

It might just have been an essay, but it was beautiful. The story tugs at my heartstrings and was written in a perfectly descriptive manner. Well done, Meh Jenn.