Still Alive

A woman is mistaken for dead

STILL ALIVE

Sarah’s eyes were open, staring ahead at the whitewashed ceiling.  A strong odor of disinfectant and the bright florescent light reminded her of a hospital room, and as she slowly oriented to this surrounding, the light began to irritate her eyes. She tried to blink, then to turn her head, no movement would come. Panic was slowly working its way around her body, into her throat.  The room was quiet and Sarah knew she was alone. She tried to remember, something, anything. Even her name was gone, as though her mind was as blank as the scene before her. Maybe I’m dreamin, she hoped, and then the sound of footsteps drifted into the room and Sarah realized the door must be open. As the sound came closer, she could distinguish a heavy step, and another that sounded feminine, like the step of high heels. They entered the room. Sarah could hear voices, muffled at first, choked with tears, and then he was there next to her, a male with a hint of cologne, and a soft grip that lifted her motionless hand into his. His breath was against her cheek, but she could not see him. It was as though tunnel vision kept her eyes directed to the ceiling light.
“I will always love you” the man whispered, “You will always be in my heart.”
Sarah caught the shadow of an arm move across her vision, and felt his hand smooth her hair and brush her brow.
“Goodbye my love.” He was crying again, and gently moved his hand away.”
“I am so sorry for your loss Mr. Peters” Said a female voice, and the voices then moved away and Sarah could hear only the heavy footsteps leave the room. She wanted to scream, “come back. I’m here. I’m here!” but no sound would come. Even the muscles in her throat remained still. 
The female steps drew closer, and as a sheet was drawn over Sarah’s face, closing out her small reality, Sarah knew there would be no coming back. Tears welled into her eyes. “Oh my God!!” she thought, and prayed that somebody would pull back the sheet and see the teardrop on her cheek, notice that she really was alive. She wanted to live.
“Help me!” she screamed. But only her silent mind could hear.


Written for The Writer's Cramp contest. 387 words.