I was sitting with my mom on one of the large rocks near the river with the heat pounding on my face. We were hidden deep in the woods, secluded behind trees and various mosses hiding us behind its cloak. My parents had discovered this picturesque cove when they had first started dating, and had claimed it as their own ever since. My little brothers were splashing under the water as the current slowly dragged them further down the big body of water. My Dad and older brother, Michael, told them to come closer. It never had any effect, though, and they would slowly slip further away. Michael was always our personal lifeguard and promised to save us from anything that would ever hurt us. He would jump in and pull them back up the shore pretending to be a shark, and making them laugh at the top of their lungs exposing their newly sprouted adult teeth.

Around noon, my parents started setting up the lunch they brought. They sprawled the checked mat onto the floor. I stood up and slid the clothes I had been wearing off my body revealing my favorite worn bathing suit, and threw my hair up into a giant messy bun on the top of my head.

“I’m going to go swim while you guys set up,” I told them with a smile. I was staring at the silky blue water. I had always loved the place; and I will always remember it.

“Okay, well be safe,” they nonchalantly instructed me, facing the opposite direction as they searched through the big basket.

“Mhm, I will,” I responded, pushing myself off the edge of the biggest rock a few feet above the top of the water.

I felt the cold water engulf me as I dove into the deep pool, eating me up until I was invisible. Once I hit the bottom, I opened my eyes and explored the heaven underneath the earth. It looked the same as it always had. There was a soft sandy floor, and jewel toned fish swimming around me. That was one of the last things I remember, along with the searing pain in my temple slowly disappearing as I heard the blurred out screams of my family.

I soon heard a loud siren ringing in my ears, as I felt warm hands wrap around my arms and legs lifting me into the air, along with a smooth rocking lulling me to sleep. It was peaceful. It was an odd feeling of bliss resonating within my body.










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I think I’m awake now, but its weird, I can’t feel my limp body as I lie in the middle of the white-sheeted bed. I see doctors scattered around me. They seem worried, hurriedly sliding IV’s into my arm. Its strange, I can’t feel the slender metal enter my skin, but its slowly disappearing out of my sight. I wish one of the people in blue scrubs would stop and tell me exactly what is happening with my body. I would ask, but my words are too heavy in my throat. Truthfully, I’m not even sure if I’m actually awake or not. I see my mom through a wall of glass, tears filling her red stained eyes, mouthing words to the ceiling-asking god to please help me. That was all I could make out from her words, but I don’t understand. I’m right here and I feel fine.
I get up and walk over to her, my feet cold on the linoleum, the floor spotted with her tears. Her typically warm hands feel ghost cold, as I intertwine mine with hers.
“Mom, don’t be scared, I’m okay. I love you,” I keep repeating to her.
Her usual strong façade has dropped, while her sobs grow greater. As I wrap my arms around her frail body, I’m back in the white covered bed, asleep with darkness in my eyes. I watch the room from a different view, looking over my seemingly lifeless body covered in sheets as pale as my skin. The doctors have left, and the room is going dark from the 7 o’clock sun nearly gone during mid November. My mom is by my side. She doesn’t budge as I see my family walking in; they look at me with glazed over eyes. I can feel the silence drifting from wall to wall, while the realization sets in. My little brothers don’t know what’s happened to me either. Did my mom just tell them I’m sleeping? This doesn’t make sense; I should be able to wake up.
Everybody seems to understand what the doctors say are terrible circumstances, but I feel like I’m floating on white clouds above the bed, molded into the warm air. I hug each of them as they walk in telling them not to worry, and reminding them of how just a few days ago we were laughing and playing games. They can’t hear me, and I don’t know what’s going on. Maybe this is just a strange dream.
I’m starting to notice that I’m not awake most of the time, and that my mind is playing tricks on me. I want so badly to tell the people I love that I hear them, and that I’m not gone. I can’t seem to push the words out of my mouth no matter how hard I try, I feel paralyzed, a prisoner in my own body, unable to control a single limb. The doctors say the word, a “coma”. It was triggered from hitting my head and a lack of oxygen. I must have smacked it off the ledge of the rock while trying to pull myself up. My brother seems upset. He thinks its his fault, they didn’t find me until minutes after I had sunk to the bottom. He blames himself.
“Michael, you didn’t do anything wrong. It wasn’t anybody’s fault. I promise.” He can’t hear me. No matter how loudly I scream nothing comes out of my now purple lips.
They don’t know if I’ll ever wake up. They don’t realize that I hear them. That I’m not gone and I still love them. They see me as an empty shell that nobody can bear to leave. My family just sits by my side all day awaiting me to move somehow. If only they knew how much I want to be able too. I wish they knew how I’m still am a part of their life and that I still care about them.
At times, I panic when I think maybe I won’t be able to hug my family again, or tell them I love them. This depression is making it impossible to remember that I am alive, because without being able to communicate, even through tears, I am dying.