White.
Bright white light pierces my skull, for what feels like the first time. Pouring into my body. From my eyes, into my brain, surging through me, until all I am is light.
Fading.
Colours come as the flood of light subsides. Colours become shapes. Shapes become objects.
Awake.
Propped up in a sitting position. White sheets enveloping me, tubes snaking their way towards me, into me. Beside me, a doctor is sitting in a steel back chair. His gaze fixed on me.
Words.
He asks me how I feel. I’m not sure I understand his question.
“You’ve been away a while” he says, his words muffled, “Take it easy, you’re still waking up.” Brown hair neatly trimmed, but unkempt, spills down his forehead.
Response.
“I’m not sure I understand.” His eyes flick around the room. They are a brilliant shade of green. A stark contrast to the plain lab coat that addorns him.
“You’ve been in a coma.” He is holding a blue ballpoint pen in his left hand, a clipboard rests on his lap.
“H-how long?” The words struggle to push themselves out of my throat. The doctor focuses on me again. His expression is grim, but a hint of triumph lies behind his face.
“Thirty two years.”
Shock.
Thirty two years. Thirty two years since I’ve seen their faces. “What happened, my family are they..?”
The doctor stands.
“I’ve got to run some tests.” he replies. “Then I’ll fill you in on what’s happened.”
Answers.
I don’t need tests, I need answers, “What happened to my family!” The words are sharp, but quiet. The doctor doesn’t hear as he walks past the head of my bed, out of my view.
Questions.
A few minutes pass, he asks me questions. “What is your name? Can you read that poster? Count from 1 to 10, 10 to 1.”
Beeps and whirring underlie his voice, filling the quiet room.
Silence.
The room quiets again and the doctor walks back into view, siting himself back in his chair. In his hand is a large brown file with a name printed on it. My name. He pulls his chair forwards. From the file he passes me a document. “This should have all the information you need for now.”
Conflict.
Would they even want to see me? What would they think of me? Could I even face them? I have to see them, tell them I’m back. The doctor says something but the words are lost to me. The world doesn’t matter to me now. I need to see them, I can’t see them. I have to-
“Hey!” His words, sharp and short, snap me back into reality. “Stay with me.”
“Sorry, I…” I don’t know what to say.
“I said, do you want to call your parents.”
Roaming.
Another day he keeps me in the hospital. I got up at some point, I must have as I am no longer in bed. But I’m not sure when, my memory is patchy. I have some pills he gave me to, ‘help keep me awake,’ as well as some of my old stuff I had on me when- I, well. The memory of everything is too much for now. I have another thing too, a number, and I know where there’s a phone.
Twisting.
Still I haven’t called them. I’m Caught between two ultimatums. Stuck twisting from one to the other. The gaps in my memory only make it worse. I think my memory is getting better now, this day seems longer than the last. It’s hard to tell. I still can’t bring myself to pick up the phone.
Haze.
My memory is fading. I’m talking to the doctor as I have done over the past few days. He gives me a higher dosage of the medication that is supposed to save me. The undertone of triumph is long gone from his voice, now anxiety takes its place, and fear too.
“Don’t be ashamed” I tell him, there’s no one who’s to blame for this. I know there’s something I need to do. A decision I should have made. It’s all slipping away from me now.
Awake.
White sheets enveloping me, tubes snaking into me. The doctor is sitting beside me once again.
“The phone.” A whisper. A decision made to late.
He stirs, leans towards me his voice brittle. “What did you say?”
The phone. I need to, call. Them.
Fading.
The world blurs, everything seems so bright -I need something, I need to do something- the room is slipping away. -I need to- The light grows, -call- filling me -them-, until all I am, is…
White.
2 Comments
Add Yours →Hi Caleb,
Here is some feedback.
Take a careful look at your spelling, punctuation and grammar. There are some minor errors popping up in your writing that you need to identify and correct.
The conflict of your story does not seem to be the centre part of the story. You are taking too long to introduce it and it is only mentioned briefly. This assessment is all about the struggle of having to make a decision and the conflict that comes with it.
You are swapping tenses occasionally. Read your work out loud to help catch this problem and address it.
Good work, keep at it.
Mr Johnson
Hi Caleb,
You need to focus more on the conflict. Remember the assessment requires the conflict to be the central theme for this piece.
There is some inconsistency in your characterisation. It is important that with a story like this, you make it seem realistic.
Some of your word choices are a little odd. Read your work out loud to help catch these moments.
Mr Johnson