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“She’s catatonic. We’re not quite sure why.” Disembodied words drift into my mind.
For those around me, I am to all intents and (medical) purposes locked into a vegetative state, brain-dead. Inside I live. And listen.
Music plays in the background. Someone has brought in my iPod and speakers, thinking to soothe me. But I listen for something – to something else – just beyond the music. I listen to the cue. Click.
“There’s no response. We’ve done so many tests. No response from her whatsoever. I’m so sorry, there’s nothing more that we can do. Perhaps we should consider switching…”
Eyes flicker behind shadows, belying the diagnoses of doctors. I am condemned by those who will soon know better.
“Should we consider moving her to another hospital? We can afford to pay. We have insurance that will cover it.”
My father’s strained words reach me. I hear him breathe heavily, trying to control himself, to hold back the tears.
“Well there is a place, I’m just not sure they’d take her. I’ll make a call and try. If you’d like to wait here, I won’t be long.”
Click. A door closes.
Again I hear the subliminal sound. Minutes pass as it bores its way into my brain until I hear the final note completing the sequence. The call to battle.
Click. A door opens.
“Yes, you’re in luck… they said they’d take……”
The words falter and stop.
In the room there is silence. The eerie silence you get when the monster within finally explodes out and kills. The silence of shock and horror that is unable to utter a word or scream.