Cast Away: The Coma
by Andreanna Turner
Tangled and raspy- I sat staring out the window gazing into the abyss that I now considered life. It was strange here- foreign. A desperate solitude – despised. Who was here, who was able to come? Who designed this scrap of a life?
This area was dark and solely unwelcomed. No one to visit no one to yell. Peacefulness- It was maddening. No anger was here. No voice was heard. Where was this place that came in a storm? Where were the memories that harbored this wretched existence?
Every day—no, every hour—the seasons didn’t matter the weather didn’t falter. No change, no climactic interaction. No voices came through the wind. Just the humming the beeping and the raspy sucking. Where were these noises? Where did they stem from?
In this place there was no change in the process. A heavy gravity that held me down yet I felt on the verge of floating. How did I get here? I try to remember. But, I look deep inside and see nothing- nothing- everything’s missing. Sometimes- even though time doesn’t appear here- I catch a scent of a feeling of familiarity. If I try hard enough I can feel warmth holding my hand. It used to be more often… the warmth that I imagined. It used to be continuous- comforting- compassioned.
But, now that It seems to merely come and go the sudden warmth only creeps barely making an announcement. It is unsettling now, when the warmth goes away I’m left sitting cold and uncollected. Far off in the distance I can see a hue. It’s been there since the warmth first stayed away. The hue seems mixed-confused and rigid. Sometimes it gets closer but just as I am about to reach it the loud piercing steady sound comes and the weightlessness that the hue makes me feel is fought with a force. A rhythmic force pushing me down beat by beat. Gravity slowly regains its control as the solid long piercing sound steady’s to a faint beep.
Only one memory pierces this drear rain cloud that I live in. While the sun doesn’t shine except off in the distance. The sun and the hue beckon me to them. The memory is constant- repetitive- the only one I have and I wish it would be forgotten.
It is unclear- this memory that I remember. The rainy dreary haze is there while a car keeps on spinning. The sound is mute and disconnected. I’m not watching it, I’m living in it. On constant replay this cursed memory keeps playing. Is there any meaning or hopefulness in this place that I’ve been sentenced?
Cast away- from family friends and loved ones. I used to remember them. But now I remember nothing- nothing but that car spinning on a rainy dreary day.
Cast away- I used to hear my mother’s voice cracking and the scurry of feet rushing around me. But now I hear nothing but that steady beeping humming and raspy sucking.
Cast away- I used to hear words that showed that there was a glimmer of hope for my return. But now I live on falsely as I sit behind this window in a dreary haze.
I keep trying to float away- up and towards the hue. The only precious feeling of solidness and gratitude.
I keep trying- fighting to get there.
But every time…
Every single time I get within grasp of such a comforting warmth pulling me towards the sun- the hue, the end of continuation. And every single time I am pulled back down, jolts shocked through me as false gravity returns. Every single time I am brought back to this place… this place I now live in. This dreary rainy day that is on repeat with this lone constant memory.
The spinning the beeping the constant humming sound. The rasping of the machines chaining me to the ground.
Author: Andreanna Turner
Major(s): Chemistry, Biology, & Mathematics