The last thing

June 3, 2008
By Julie Lindemann, Dexter, MI

“Will she alright?” I heard a man say.
“She’ll be alright, you say her name is Lucy and she’s thirteen right?” Another man said.
“Yes, yes.” The first man said.
It was the last thing I heard before every thing went black. I could hear, but it was all distorted. Except one thing I knew I heard for sure was sirens.

“Oh great,” I thought. “I’m the back of an ambulance. How did I get here?” I thought some more.
So many things raced through my mind as the sirens continued, then fading away into another black silence. My mind fallowed into the silence.
For the second time I awoke, but this time the sirens were not going off, only a light pitter-patter on the windowsill next to the bed. “Wait… where am I?” My mind seemed still so fogged from before. “Second of all, how did I get here?”
As I reached up from under the blanket to rub my sore arms, my bedroom door squeaked open silently. A lady I’ve never ever met before pushed the door open the rest of the way open.
“No!” she screamed. “Don’t leave me!” she fell to the bed.
“I wont, I wont…” I repeated. She blankly looked at me, wiped her eyes and got up, then walked out.
“She’s dead bill.” I over heard the lady say.
“There’s no way I’m dead… Is there?” I thought it over, and the darkness came once again for a third time.

I awoke another time to find my self in Déjà vu. I reached for my arms all over again.
Then the same exact lady walked in and said “sweet heart, I’m glad your awake now.”

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