I remember laying there and feeling my head dip down and back up again and then left and right. I could feel my back against something hard but I couldn't figure out what. My ears were invaded by the constant sounds of something crashing all around me. Every time my head dipped down there was a crash, and ever time my head was up again there would be a swell of anticipation.
I awoke in the dark surrounded by blankets. My hands were clammy and on my forehead I could feel drops of water sliding down my face. Was I sweating? I couldn't be, last I remembered there was a cool breeze. A cooling breeze, one that made you relax and lulled you to sleep. The kind of breeze that you imagine constantly blowing on an exotic island, a breeze that made everything alright. But now the breeze was gone and I was stuck in the stifling darkness. My heart raced but my mind stayed cloudy. I wasn't scared though but mostly confused. Why wasn't I scared? Scared. It didn't seem to fit, nor did it sound right in my mind.
My body began to melt back into the sheets as my tensed muscles began to relax. My back didn't seem to hurt as much, and I sank in deeper into the mattress. Similarly to before, my head began to dip down again, but this time it was also the rest of my body that was sinking into my mattress. It was congruent with the idea of sinking into quick sand but I wasn't afraid. That word didn't fit either.
When I made it to the other side I was surprised by the silence, until then the crashing noises still vaguely played in the crevices of my mind. The breeze was back but it wasn't the same. I felt... Uneasy? Yes, that's the word, uneasy. Uneasy because the wind played with my emotions as it ran it fingers though my low cut hair, giving me the false hope of not being alone, then instantly killing those dreams as I turned and faced the nothingness that was behind me.
I turned on my side and crunched into a ball. What time was it? I looked at my shadow but it seemed to change its position every ten seconds, making me a useless sun dial. The uneasiness returned so I attempted to use my weakened legs. Where these mine? They looked different. They felt different. However, I managed to get them to work and stumbled through this barren land. It wasn't until then that I realized my extreme thirst. My skin began to crawl as I squirmed on the inside and my throat began to tickle. For an instant of a second I flashed back to the heated darkness of my room but it didn't last long. What was real and what was fake I couldn't tell anymore. I looked down at the ground and watched the sand fly past my legs. My legs felt numb. Hmm, that word seemed to fit, but it didn't feel right. N U M B, it contained hills and valleys in every letter but it felt round in my mouth.When I looked up I was faced with a beige colored wall that contained a single window. As I got closer I could see a young boy laying in a hospital bed with his legs and head elevated and a breathing tube in his mouth. Along with the boy was a nurse and two people who looked like parents. I couldn't make out what they were saying but the mother had tears in her eyes. As the boy laid there I could feel the burning sensation as the nurse changed his IV. I didn't understand, was that boy me? All I wanted to do was go fishing.
More commotion seemed to arise in the room as the mother lunged towards the father who held her tightly in his arms and nodded vigorously at the nurse as the two walked out the room. One by one the nurse started to turn off the machines which kept the young man alive. Once again, my head was confused but my heart was in panic. The words I felt couldn't come no matter how hard I tried to form them; my mind focused solely on the nurse and her every action. The cooling breeze blew stronger as the nurse turned up the A/C. In an effort of hope she slowly removed the multitude of wires that were connected to the boy, praying that some reaction, no matter how small, would occur and cause her to stop. My stomach was in knots and the wind was toying with my hair again. No it wasn't the wind, it was the nurse. Had it been her all along? I tried to look down at myself but the numbness had spread and I could no longer move. I stood, frozen against the window, watching my life end right before my eyes.
In a final farewell she kissed me lightly on the forehead, and I could feel her lips mold against my cold skin and her warm breath as she sighed. The breathing tube was the last to come out and I could feel as the rough plastic scraped against my throat, causing me to gag. There was my chance, my final reaction. But the nurse didn't react. Instead, the parents were called in to say their final goodbyes. In a fit of excitement I could feel my heart pound faster and faster in a failed attempt to survive on it's own as my body ran out of air. The room grew quiet, and I was no more.
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140,890 Literary Works • 673,702 Reviews
This is so amazing! I enjoy reading about health stories. You made me love it even more! It is very moving and very intriguing. I love the way you wrote it and the inspiration you got to write it. I hope to see more medical stories by you. You have a lot going for you. Thanks for making my day.
-Unknown391625
Thanks so much! I'm glad you liked it
This is amazing. I also thought that at the beginning the character was simply waking up from a terrible nightmare.
This out of body experience is different than any other I have read. Usually, the person returns to the body and awakens. But I loved how you turned that around and made the boy feel the pain of his death while he watched it. Who knows, maybe this really is how deaths occur. It's beautiful.
Thank you!!
Wow... this is very moving.
I like how at the beginning, I had the impression that the narrator was in bed, simply having a restless night, but as things went on it became very difficult to establish what was real and what wasn't.
I really don't think I have any criticism to add. I really like how the boy's disorientation is shown through his difficulty in choosing the right words.
I do have one point, but it's a tiny one, "In a final farewell she kissed me..." the only she mentioned recently was the nurse so I assume this is who you mean, but I think personally this seems like a strange choice, the mother is sitting right there, should it not be her who kisses you. It just seems a little odd that the professional nurse would kiss the boy, despite the fact that that should probably be the mother's job.
This was really the only thing I could pick out thought, other than that I think this story is really excellent.
Hai, Laure here for a review! Well, this is certainly interesting material to write about. If I'm not wrong, I think what you're writing here is the character's descend into death and what he feels along the way. The title itself, is also quite provoking in its own ways. Is this dream applied in a symbolic or literal way, no matter. I'm going to start off the review with saying a bit on the content and language of this short story.
Content and language:
I suppose this is an interesting piece, articles, stories and novels about deaths are no uncommon between young writers nowadays. We all seem to like the morbid and the eerie, for no particular even though I'm sure the majority of us hasn't experienced it. Yet, what you have written here seems authentic enough but I wouldn't know. What I actually want to discuss here is the style you've written it, you've actually done a lot of what other writers do.
You're telling us things not showing it, I will admit that there are some nice metaphors and similes in here. Though it still feels like you're telling us things and not letting the readers experience and hence get in touch with the characters. Let's take a look at the first paragraph.
First problem: Too many 'i's, try and vary your sentence beginnings especially with pronouns. Is a very fundamental writing asset, so that not all your sentences seems to start and ends the same.
Second problem:
You told us you could feel that your back is against something hard, how about describing to us how hard it was and how it felt?
Try to avoid saying something were something, that is most definitely telling. The same with writing, something of something. Once again telling, so try and use figurative language instead.
Hm, another one I found while reading this piece was actually how much stream-of-consciousness was going on here. I mean a little is fine, but for awhile it was as if the MC was just basically muttering to himself and asking these repeated questions. Which to be blunt, is quite dull. So, even in such an account as this or should I say especially in an account as this. You should focus more of the surroundings and descriptions rather than inner thoughts. Which brings me to the next part, plot holes.
This person is half, if not very close to being dead, correct? Would they really be that acute to his mother's lips and warm breath, they can feel the breathing tube being pulled out and scraped? I would imagine if they had a breathing tube, they are having trouble breathing and will be more panicking over the fact their vision is dimming and hearing and not, 'oh, my life is pulled out. The material is rough, how annoying.'
Previously, you said he could feel his mother's lips and now you're saying, 'oh wait, they are actually outside.' -> Doesn't quite make sense.
Also the use of excitement here, wouldn't exactly be my word choice when someone is dying.
I noticed a few wrong contractions here and there, but nothing you can't fix up on your own so I'm not going to waste my time and comb out every spelling or grammar mistake in this piece. My overall impression is that this is a quite interesting story with a good potential to develop into something. Your writing has a hidden depth in it and you're not bad with descriptions, you just tend to overload your chapter with unnecessary words which happens to nearly 99.99% of the population.
So, keep writing and hope I wasn't too harsh.
~Laure
Was this a dream or a story of a boy enduring his last hours in a hospital bed? Either way it doesn't make sense. I was expecting more so a typical story of a dream. Yes dreams don't make sense but you had an odd way of giving an ironic spin in this little piece. My only critique is: Change the name. I looked through the whole story hoping for something interesting to happen but then all of a sudden it comes to this death of a boy.