The high shrill of screeching brakes, crashing metal and screams mix together in a haze of confusion. I come to briefly, inside my vehicle remembering the last thing I remembered before the accident, lights coming directly at me – not being able to see where I was going – then suddenly losing reality, and ultimately blackness.
I wake again to the sound of beeping machines and hooked up to tubes. My body not being able to move, my daughter sitting beside me crying.
“Marcia, Marcia, I'm okay, I'm right here. Stop crying.” She doesn't seem to hear me and continues to cry.
She turns to the nurse, “Please give me another minute before you take her off the life support.”
The nurse nods and walks away.
“I'm here, I'm here! I'm okay!”
Why can no one hear me?
Image credit: public domain archive
This is my submission for the flash fiction challenge, Flash Fiction for the Purposeful Practitioner. This challenge is hosted by Roger Shipp and this week he has supplied us with a prompt photo and approximately 200 words with which we create our stories. This challenge is open to everyone and for more information, click here.
To read other stories for this challenge, click here.