March 26, 2010
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B l a n k n e s s.


The room is dark.


The lights go on.

“I’ve found a pulse.”

Someone beats my chest.

“Stay with me.”

I hear.

“Is she okay?”

I feel a sharp pain from my feet to my head.

I scream.

“It’ll hurt, but she’ll live.”

Tears flood the room

“Can you hear me?”

I can’t speak.

“Hello? Can you hear me?”
N o t h i n g.

“Why won’t she answer?”

I scream.

The pain is unbearable.

“The drunk driver hit her pretty hard. She must be traumatized still.”

He shouldn’t have been driving.

“Just give her time. She needs to heal.”

Things get blurry.

“We’re losing her.”

I can hear the tears.


The room goes dark.


Why does he get to live?

S i l e n c e.

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